I’ve Written A Book! Writing ‘Living At The Speed Of Light’

I’ve wanted to write a book for years. More specifically, I’ve wanted to write a book about my experiences of mental illness. So about five years ago, I started putting together a memoir, of everything I’ve been through living with Bipolar disorder. When it was finished, I sent it to a few publishers….but it wasn’t what they were looking for. I shelved it, believing no one was interested in hearing my story. In early 2019 I told myself I’d send it out one last time, not with much hope or expectation of anything coming of it. This time though, the response was different. The publisher, Jessica Kingsley Publishers, were willing to work with me, if I made some changes. We discussed it over a couple of weeks and came to the decision that the book could work as part memoir, part guide to living with Bipolar disorder.

I put together a proposal of what the book would look like, and wrote a sample chapter. The answer; they liked it, and I had a book deal!

Now I just had to write it. I couldn’t use my original manuscript, I had to start from scratch. I had four months to get it as perfect as I could. It wasn’t an easy process. Writing a book is bloody hard work! Anyone that writes a blog, journals, or talks about their mental illness on social media knows that it’s draining. After a day spent writing about my experiences for the book, and sharing my insights and advice, I was emotionally exhausted. I had to look after myself during those four months and talk it through with people close to me, like my partner Jimi. Then I sent it to my publisher. I was so nervous to press send on that email! I didn’t need to be – there were changes I needed to make, but nothing stressful. Before I knew it, the editing process was complete.

Of course the book needed a name – and the one we finally decided on – Living At The Speed Of Light. I felt it really explained what life can be like sometimes living with bipolar, with changing extreme moods ruling your life.

Now the book is available to preorder! It’s out officially on 18th March 2021. It’s for anyone who lives with Bipolar, who feels they may have it or is newly diagnosed. It’s for those of you who have someone in your life with Bipolar, and you want to learn more about it, and ways you can help. It’s also for anyone that just wants to know more about Bipolar from someone who’s been through it, and lived with the condition for nearly 20 years.

I’m immensely proud of this book. I wrote it thinking about what I had needed when I was first diagnosed with Bipolar disorder. I needed someone who had been there, that had found their way through the maze of this ridiculously complex illness and had advice and knowledge to share. I would have wanted a story I could relate to, and tips for living and thriving that actually made sense. My goal is that Living At The Speed Of Light will help people with Bipolar disorder, and it will help others understand what it’s like to live with. If it helps one person, then it’s all been worth it.

Hiding Behind A Smile

What do these photos say to you? You probably see a happy, smiling young person, enjoying life. The reality is I was ill in each of these photos.

I’d either just had a diagnosis of bipolar, or was about to be diagnosed. You can’t see it, but I was all over the place mentally – either depressed or manic, it was relentless and I felt stuck in a never-ending loop. I don’t remember being stable for more than a week at a time. Mania made me confident and almost euphoric, but at the same time I was dealing with delusional thinking and spending thousands of pounds that I couldn’t really afford. Then there was the irritability and anger that made me act out and say terrible things. Crushing depression left me feeling hopeless and stuck. I was also struggling with bulimia and in no way was I taking care of myself physically. To be honest, it was a shitty time in my life. Somehow through it all, I was working full time, spent the weekends partying with friends and going to festivals and gigs. I never stopped and I was always, always, smiling.

By that point in my life I’d become an expert at pretending everything was fine, hiding behind a mask and smiling through the pain.

It’s obvious with hindsight what was about to happen; I crashed. I became deeply depressed – the worst I’d ever felt. I was suicidal and couldn’t work, couldn’t go out, could barely function enough to have a shower. It forced me to confront what I’d been going through for years and start searching for a reason why. The answer was bipolar, and that started me on a long road of learning and acceptance. It taught me I have to be honest. I couldn’t hide anymore.

It’s easy to see a smiling face and assume everything is totally ok. But it’s not enough to just assume. Someone you love could be hiding how much they’re struggling and you may never know.

So ask the difficult questions; tell them you’ve noticed signs that something isn’t quite right. Reach out to them if they suddenly become withdrawn. Listen like you’re really listening, mean it when you empathise with them and ask how you can help. The mask will slip, and how you act when it does will make a huge difference to that person.

I wish I’d been more open about how I was coping. I wish I’d told the truth back then. But here I am now, being authentic and honest. It’s never too late to stop hiding, to let people in. I’m always blown away by the support I have from family and friends. It’s not always easy for them, and we communicate our feelings to each other when mental illness makes life tough. I have lost friends but, the ones that really care will stay by your side.

How To Help A Friend With Depression

Depression is common, but it’s also common for people to freak out and not know how to support a friend. Below, I’ve listed a few ways in which you can help a friend with depression.

Listen

Listening, real, active listening, can be your superpower. Hearing what someone has told you means you can then validate their feelings, and make them feel less alone. Ask questions to get more information, rather than assuming you understand. Instead repeat back what they’ve told you in your own words, so they can see you’ve heard. Don’t make it about you and your own experiences, listen and show empathy; do this by showing your interest in what they’re telling you, through your words and body language.

Help them find support

This is easier said than done, but if you can help them get the ball rolling, by encouraging them to make that first phone call, taking them to appointments, or even advocating for them at appointments, it’s better than doing nothing. Depression can make people isolate themselves, and that includes accessing therapy and going to appointments. Check up on them and encourage them to continue with their treatment, by doing one of the above.

Offer to help practically

Practical help can be just as vital as listening. Knowing your place is a mess for instance, can make you feel guilty and worthless. They might need help shopping for groceries and essentials, or help tidying their home or room. It’s important to not take over and do absolutely everything for them. It can make them too reliant on you, or even make them feel guilty and like a burden. Try to share out the workload if you can, or offer to do something they absolutely feel they can’t face.

Don’t pressure them – but don’t exclude

When someone is depressed, they’ll be less sociable. It might feel frustrating when they’re invited out, but refuse to go. Don’t pressurise them or make them feel guilty for not going out. This doesn’t mean ignoring them completely though. You can still include them by extending an invitation. Try saying something along the lines of, ‘we’re going to the pub, you’re welcome to come if you’re feeling up to it.’ Acknowledging they’re having a difficult time, will make it easier on them if they feel they’re not ready..

Be patient

It can be a slow process for your friend to start feeling better and more like themselves. They’ll have good days when you think they’re ok, but then this could be followed by more bad days. Recovering from a bout of depression isn’t linear, and even when they’re in the middle of the storm, they might have days when they seem absolutely fine.

Stay in touch

Don’t let a friendship drift because they have depression! Staying in touch can make all the difference to them, especially during a time when other people might pull away, because they don’t know how to deal with it.

Learn about depression

One of the best gifts you can give a friend is simply learning more about depression. This doesn’t mean showering them with advice and ‘have you tried?!’ it’s reading up about what it’s really like, the signs and symptoms and what kind of support is out there. If you know the signs and symptoms, you will be more aware if they or someone else in your life becomes depressed. You can also share with them any information you’ve found on support groups etc.

Take care of yourself

Make sure to take time for you. Practise your own self care, and set boundaries around how much help you can provide, such as how much time you can spend on the phone talking to your friend.

And remember, this is still your friend. They haven’t suddenly changed into a stranger. You can still treat them and talk to them how you would at any other time.

Managing Sleep

I know a ton of us, especially right now when we’re under lockdown, are struggling to get a good night’s kip. How can a lack of sleep affect us? I’ll also look at some tips and advice that have helped me along the way.

Why is sleep so important?

Sleep refreshes us, it keeps us going. But when you live with Bipolar disorder, or any mental health condition really, a lack of sleep can have a major impact. Sleep disturbance is very common if you live with bipolar disorder. Disrupted sleep is a symptom of mania, but it an also lead to manic and hypomanic episodes. Studies have shown that 25 – 65% of people with bipolar, who had a manic episode, had experienced sleep disruption before the episode.

Breaking down the different types of sleep disturbances

Insomnia – is having problems getting to sleep, and staying asleep, or not sleeping enough. It’s a common problem for many people with mental health problems. Hypomania and mania often lead to insomnia.

Hypersomnia – This is the total opposite of insomnia. Over sleeping affects one third of people with bipolar disorder. It often happens during periods depression, where all we want to do is sleep.

Irregular sleep-wake schedule – This is when your sleep routine goes out the window. The irregular cycle can interfere with treatment.

My own experience

I struggle with insomnia, a lot. It’s incredibly frustrating, and to top it off, for me it often leads to mania. If my sleep is disrupted for more then three days in a row (say, I get 2-3 hours a night) I can become very ill, very quickly. Not sleeping is a major trigger I’ve realised over the years and I have to keep an eye on it, and try my best to get a good night’s sleep. I’m also the type of person that when I’m depressed, I feel absolutely knackered all the time. All I want to do is sleep, and even when I get a good 8 hours, I still feel exhausted.

So what have I learnt to help me sleep?

Get some exercise – Honestly knackering yourself out can help knock you out for the night. Tiring out your body through exercise lifts your mood – and helps you sleep. It doesn’t always mean going for a run, or doing aerobics at home. Sometimes I just have a dance party in my lounge – why not! Just don’t exercise a few hours before bed, because it’s too energising and will keep you up. I realise not everyone can exercise all the time when you live with mental illness. Even a gentle walk is better than nothing.

Avoid screen time – Blue screen is baaaad for sleep. Try to stay away from the television, your phone, computer or laptop, at least an hour before you go to bed. Instead, start your bedtime routine. Read a book, even make a plan for the following day.

Routine – When I was first diagnosed with bipolar disorder, my psychologist wouldn’t stop banging on about sleep hygiene. What this means is having a solid evening routine you stick to. It helps your mind relate certain tasks and sensory experiences to preparing for sleep. Wahing your face, brushing your teeth, moisturising your body are all a great start. Try incorporating calming hobbies and interests into your routine, such as reading a book in bed or in a quiet corner of the room you sleep in. Make sure you go to bed at a regular time at night, and wake up the same time every morning. I tend to have a ‘night off’ from my routine once a week on a Saturday night, but go straight back to it the next day.

Reflect and Plan – Keep a journal and write down what you’ve done that day. It can help you sort through your thoughts and focus on something that might be worrying you, instead of those worries popping up when you’re already in bed, trying to sleep. Writing is cathartic, and can help you understand your anxieties, and work through them. Listing on paper what you have to do tomorrow, can stop you fixating on those plans when you’re laying in bed.

Avoid naps – If you can, or keep them short if you need one. I love a good nap, but I know if I nap in the afternoon or evening, I won’t sleep at night!

Keep your bedroom for sleeping – Limit watching television, or working on your laptop. Try keeping a tidy bedroom that feels relaxing to be in.

Avoid alcohol and caffeine

Get up– It might seem counter intuitive, but if you can’t sleep (say after 30 minutes) get out of bed and try doing something relaxing. Otherwise it’s frustrating to stay in bed worrying why you can’t sleep. Even if you’ve been up during the night, try to get up at your regular time.

I hope some of these tips help you to get a better night’s sleep. If you’re really struggling to sleep, go and see your GP or psychiatrist, who might be able to give you additional support and further treatment.

Bipolar Myths Debunked

People with Bipolar disorder are just moody

There’s an idea that bipolar disorder is just mood swings – something everybody has, so isn’t a big deal. It is though, very different from everyday mood changes. The highs and lows are extreme and can feel like they come out of the blue, or there is no reason for you to be acting the way you are. These mood changes can last several days, weeks, or even months. The difference from bipolar mood changes to regular mood swings is huge. With bipolar, there are incredible, sometimes terrifying for the person living with it, changes in energy, activity, sleep and mood. I’ll give you an example of what bipolar isn’t; you wake up happy, in a good mood. Later on, you start to feel grumpy and irritable. It might be because of something that happened at work, you haven’t had enough coffee, or it may feel like just ‘one of those days.’ At the end of the day, you somehow find yourself happy again. These are normal mood changes – if you think about it, we rarely stay in the same mood all day!

Mania makes you productive, fun and generally in a good mood

Mania might start out as fun, and you’ll feel like the life of the party. It can make you articulate, quick thinking, and exude confidence. But it can quickly morph into an unrelenting monster. That good mood can quickly change into irritability and spontaneous bursts of anger. Spending can spiral out of control, and you could find yourself in serious debt. Impulses take over, and you may start taking more risks and become more reckless. It may result in a loss of control of your thoughts and actions and even losing touch with reality.

You will lose your creativity if you get treatment

I’m a creative person, I always have been. Instead of medication hindering my creativity, stability has enhanced it. I’m clearer of thought, more focused and less forgetful. I’ve even managed to secure a publishing deal during my longest period of stability. It’s a myth that can be damaging, and stop people from seeking treatment they desperately need.

You’re either manic or depressed if you have bipolar

This isn’t true. Bipolar is a complex condition. Many people with the disorder experience what’s called mixed episodes. This is when you feel highs and lows at the same time, or in very quick succession. Also, it’s possible for people to experience long periods when they feel stable, with balanced moods. It varies from person to person, but some can go years without having an episode of mania or depression.

There’s only one type of bipolar disorder

Bipolar I – Someone with this diagnosis will experience manic and depressive episodes.

Bipolar II – Is mostly categorised by mostly depressive episodes. Someone with bipolar II will have experienced at least one hypomanic episode..

Cyclothymia – This doesn’t meet the requirements for a diagnosis of Bipolar I or II, but still can seriously impact your life.

Bipolar disorder otherwise not specified – This is when someone has bipolar – like mood changes, but it doesn’t fit the same pattern of the above.

I hope this clears up some of the myths and misconceptions around bipolar disorder. If you have any questions, pop a comment below, or ask someone you know with the disorder. It’s always good to ask questions, and learn from people with lived experience!

I’m Writing A Book!

Yep, the secret is out! I’ve been offered a publishing contract with Jessica Kingsley Publishers to write a book about bipolar disorder.

The book is going to be a practical guide to bipolar disorder. I’ll offer tips and advice on how to navigate daily life and how to manage symptoms. All of this will be alongside my own experiences of living with the condition!

Now I need to just write the bloody thing! You can send me coffee to fuel me whilst I’m busy working on the manuscript over Xmas and into 2020!

And it all started here, on this blog. I’m truly grateful for each and every one of you that takes the time to read my posts. I’ve thought about giving up writing about mental health, and bipolar in particular numerous times, but the support I have online is incredible and has kept me going, so thank you!

It’s made me reflective and as we head into a new decade, I couldn’t think of a better end to this one. In 2010 I was a mess. I was constantly manic or depressed, there was never any respite from the chaos in my mind. It left me exhausted and physically ill. In mid 2012 I had a breakdown and came close to losing everything. I lost my job, and somehow my partner Jimi stuck with me, supported and cared for me, even though I was terrified he would leave.

Then I was diagnosed with bipolar type 1, but believe me, that wasn’t the end of what became the most gruelling, challenging decade. I was out of work for years, and I had to redefine who I was as a person. My career had been my life, it was me. I went on benefits, and was in a constant state of worry over my finances. I had to find a new way of living my life, a healthier way. It took years before I found medication that worked for me. A combination that didn’t have awful side effects.

2019 has been a better year. I took a huge leap and started working as a freelance writer. I write about mental health, and I’m passionate and committed to my job. I’ve finally felt in control of bipolar, rather than it controlling every decision I make. Now, at the end the year, I have a book deal. I’ve come so far and I’m so proud of myself; something I find difficult to do and admit.

The me of 2010 would never have believed what I’m doing now. She was too focused on getting through the next day, the next hour. But I made it through, I fought my way through this decade.

I can’t wait to share the book with you all. For now, I’ll be typing away on the manuscript, but I’ll still be writing here on the blog when I can!

Bipolar and Credit Cards, Loans and Debt

Mania for me always leads to overspending. I’ll spend an exorbitant amount of money on useless, meaningless stuff.

Shoes, bags, clothes, collectible toys, lego figurines (yes, really), games consoles, hotel rooms – I could go on and on. I’m not a materialistic person by nature, but with mania I just can’t help myself. It’s an overwhelming compulsion.

Overspending is a common symptom of hypomania and mania. It can have a huge impact on your day to day life, especially when an episode has ended. You realise how much you’ve spent and it can lead to debt, anxiety over money and even not having enough money to cover all the bills.

At one time, during a serious and extended bout of mania, I amassed; four store cards, and three credit cards. I maxed them all out. I found myself in a mountain of debt, thousands of pounds worth. I couldn’t afford the repayments and was threatened with bailiffs. Even though I was earning a reasonable wage, I had to give up my flat. Luckily, I could move in with my parents, but was still paying rent to them and had to try and somehow reach the repayments every month.

What upsets me is how I was preyed on by companies when I was extremely vulnerable and ill. One time, I was in the town centre, when I was approached by a salesperson on the street. I was absolutely wired, full of manic energy and couldn’t stop talking. It was obvious something was wrong, that I was very unwell. They used my impulsiveness against me, and with very little convincing, got me to sign up for a credit card. I starting using it as soon as it arrived. I didn’t check the APR before signing up, which was extortionate. Impulsiveness reigns supreme when I’m manic and I’d sign up for pretty much anything if it was offered to me. Every time I was asked to sign up for a store card, I obliged.

There must be some way of prohibiting people when they’re manic from signing up for credit cards, or taking out a loan. I don’t know how this would work, but it would have saved me a huge amount of stress and worry about money. The stress alone has made me ill, and I’ve become severely depressed because of it. I still overspend when I’m manic. Although now I don’t have access to my credit cards unless I really need to use them. I’ve handed them over to my partner, because I can’t trust myself with them when I’m ill. But what if you have no partner or anyone you can trust and understand the problem? I don’t know what the solution is, but companies and banks should be ashamed at how easy it is to qualify for loans and credit cards.

Why I’m anxious about seeing a Doctor

I’ve been putting off seeing my doctor for ages.

Why?

I’m afraid. Afraid that they won’t be able to help me. That they’ll fob me off with a ‘just keep doing what you’re doing’ response. Anxious that they’ll want to change my medication. Again.

I’ve had a difficult year with medical professionals. Long story short, I was discharged whilst feeling suicidal. I made an official complaint to the hospital, and they investigated. The outcome; the psychiatrist denied his behaviour and that I agreed and was willing to be discharged. So he lied, to save himself. I was left without support from mental health services and had to fend for myself. I carried myself through that bout of depression and I’m still here. But that’s not the point. I felt let down, isolated, alone, and incredibly fearful for the future.

This year has been tough on my mental health. I decided to go full time as a freelance writer, giving up the security of a regular wage. Mental illness has kicked my arse. A few months ago I was depressed, and suffering from tactile hallucinations for the first time. I was scared, terrified of these crawling sensations on my skin. It meant I couldn’t sleep. Insomnia is painful. It seeps through your very being and leaves you hollow. I was sleeping maybe 2 -3 hours a night. For months. I tried everything I could think of before heading to the doctors. With the help of medication, I could sleep again. The hallucinations dissipated and the relief washed over me. I felt like I could breathe again.

Despite all this, I can’t bring myself to talk about mental illness with a doctor.

I didn’t mention the hallucinations to my GP (general practitioner). I knew they would refer me to mental health services. The idea of this fills me with anxiety. The number one thought that goes through my head is,

“What if I end up with my last psychiatrist?” The same one I made an official complaint against. Surely there would be some form of animosity from them. I’d be on edge and be distrustful of their competency. So then I’d have to explain this whole story to my GP, before they referred me. I might have to wait even longer than usual to see a different psychiatrist. What if they are the only one available? What would I do? I can’t afford to go private. There are so many questions going through my head, and the process just makes my head ache, and fills me with anxiety.

I know I need to see a doctor. I’m experiencing some weird symptoms that I think might be connected to one of my medications. I don’t want to have to change meds. On the whole, they’re doing a good job. As long as I keep stress in check, they work and keep me stable. It took years to find the right combination and I’m so afraid of losing this balance I’ve achieved.

Again, I need to see a doctor. There’s no way I want insomnia to come back. I’m scared of psychosis and how it could manifest. I need to work through these feelings and book an appointment when I feel brave enough.

The ‘Mental Health Conversation’ Is Not Boring – And Still Relevant

I’ve seen a shift recently in how people view advocacy and raising awareness around mental health and mental illness. To some it’s now ‘boring’ or no longer necessary or needed. I think they’re wrong.

It should be obvious to anyone in the UK that mental health services are underfunded. Waiting times are atrociously long and there is still is no parity of esteem (when mental health is given equal priority to physical health) in the NHS. Understaffed services mean staff are stressed and over worked. Patients can’t be admitted when they’re seriously ill because of a lack of beds. Young people are being sent hundreds of miles away from their families for care. Suicide rates have gone up and are at the highest since 2002. The problems go on and on. It’s vital we talk about this and make change happen by campaigning, writing to our MP’s and making our voices heard when there is a general election.

Some people are making the case for this being the only issue, or at least the main topic, in the mental health conversation. To say we are at saturation point of awareness coverage, or we need to move on, I think underestimates the stigma many individuals still face. It’s almost naive and I think sometimes comes from a position of privilege. Some mental illnesses are talked about more than others. They’re more accessible, easier to digest and people to relate to. Certain groups are more willing to listen, accept and support someone with a mental illness. When you mix in other prejudices that people cope with (racism, homophobia, transphobia, for instance) which exacerbate mental ill health, these issues need to be addressed.

It worries me that with this attitude, there will be instead a shift in focus in the media, to another cause or issue that feels more relevant, or needs addressing. Our valid concerns will be less in the public eye. Changing public perceptions of mental illness shows the public how serious these conditions are and why it’s so important that we can all access quality, timely care to mental health services when we need it. Awareness educates and informs, and sways public opinion to standing up for our cause.

We often talk about reducing stigma/raising awareness or the need for more funding for mental health services, but why are they seen as mutually exclusive? Surely we can talk about both issues and still help to create change. This conversation as so many have labelled it, is far reaching and means different things to different people. So what do we actually mean when we say ‘mental health’ ?

People still don’t know how to talk to someone who is experiencing psychosis. They’re still scared and uncomfortable around people with schizophrenia. They think bipolar is just being happy or sad. They still believe people with BPD are manipulative. That PTSD only happens to soldiers. People still describe OCD as being overly tidy. They still think people talking about depression and anxiety are attention seeking. So can anyone please tell me the conversation is no longer needed?

To My Online World, And How You’ve Helped Me Grow

TW: Suicidal ideation

The period between 2003 – 2013 was a whirlwind of changes for me. The catalyst for these changes came from my online world. A place that held me safely in it’s hands. It was a place without judgement and a community full of compassionate individuals. I could feel the warmth and strength of genuine friendship reverberate around me. I felt like I’d finally found my family.

Where did this vulnerability, this raw honesty come from? The internet was full of the outsiders. Individuals trying to find their people.

In real life I was struggling. I felt like an outcast. I was trying to discover who I was and I felt deeply uncomfortable in myself. I’d never found my ‘tribe’ at school, or even when I started University in 2004. I was constantly called ‘weirdo’, ‘freak’, ‘alien’ during my time at school. I thought University would be a positive change, but I was so very wrong. I found myself surrounded by people I had little in common with. It caused me to modify my behaviour; the way I talked, the music I listened to, the shows I watched, so I could fit in. There was an intense, feverish need to belong. I wrongly thought I was the one that needed to change. That my differences were holding me back. I didn’t have anyone in my life urging me to celebrate them.

University life ended abruptly for me. I didn’t know at the time, but I was struggling with bipolar disorder. For the first term I’d been manic, euphoric and full of an insatiable energy. I fitted in with others in my halls of residence because I was the life of the party. By the next term I was in a downward spiral into depression. I realised the friendships I’d made were based on going out to bars and clubs and my unceasing hyperactivity. I had nothing else in common with them. Feeling alone and desperate, I dropped out.

Going to Uni meant owning my first laptop. At home we’d had a family desktop computer. It was so ancient that my teachers would ask why I was writing essays on a typewriter. I’d missed out on msn messenger. Having one computer between six people as a teenager meant battling with my brothers’ to use it. Homework would have to come first and then there was my Dad who was also studying for a degree. My best friend lived five minutes away so if I wanted to chat, I’d just go over to hers. Now she’d left for University and I was back at my family home. My deepest connection to someone outside my immediate family had disappeared. I felt lost without her.

Having my own laptop coincided with me finding my independence. I didn’t discover the online world until I’d dropped out of Uni. I was a huge anime fan and in my search for original Japanese versions I stumbled upon the then humble world of internet forums. These were the days of hours of constant buffering. An online video could take half an hour or more to buffer enough to make it watchable. Infuriating as it was, it meant my attention was drawn to the forums in the sidebar of these sites. I felt awkward introducing myself to strangers on the internet, but I was bored and wanted to waste some time whilst the wheel of death spun round in front of the video. Greetings started pinging back. I felt a rush of excitement that people were acknowledging me.

I started paying more interest in the content. It wasn’t just people discussing anime. They were talking about their lives, their hopes for the future, their worries and doubts. These were people that were showing a genuine interest in me. Collectively, we were lonely. I had always been made fun of for my passions. I listened to under the radar indie, electronica, house, techno and hip hop music. An eclectic mix that people in my real life just didn’t get. Then I was also a nerd who watched Star Trek and read graphic novels and manga. I played video games and was obsessed with Nintendo and the Zelda games. Now I’d found a group of people that had had the same experiences and liked what I liked. A group that were smart, funny and lovable.

Names didn’t matter in the forums. Your age, gender, ethnicity wasn’t important. What was important was creating meaningful connections and supporting each other. If I’d had a bad day, I’d go straight on the forum to vent my frustration. It didn’t feel like I was shouting into the void.

The first people I came out as bisexual to were my online friends. The connections we’d forged meant I was comfortable enough to tell them. It was the most vulnerable I’d ever made myself, but I wasn’t afraid. I was met with a pure acceptance. These were no longer just strangers, no longer just people, but my close friends. Coming out online to this small, tightly bounded group made me feel safe and secure. One person in particular was almost deafening in their support. She called herself Mel9000, and we’d grown close. About a week later she made an unusually tentative message. She’d found the courage to tell us all she was gay.

This brings me back to why we felt we could be so open online. These were people that didn’t feel accepted, because of their lifestyle, because of their idiosyncrasies. The internet opened up the world to us; we could find people that we clicked with instantly. Many of us felt socially isolated in real life. Everyone else seemed to connect and create friendships so seamlessly. I could hide who I was and put on an act to fit in, but many of the people I met online either wouldn’t do this, or had no idea how to. I wouldn’t say I was lucky to be able to put up a facade and make real life friends. In fact, it made me feel more alone and isolated.

My family didn’t understand how I could spend hours alone in my room. When in fact, I was surrounded by friendly, supportive people; my online family. Mel and mines relationship had grown. We were speaking to each other privately away from the forums. We realised we both lived in the UK, living a few hundred miles apart. Excitedly we realised we could meet, out in the real world. We met and started a relationship. It felt we already knew each other, we had overshared so much of ourselves online.

The most valuable gifts the internet gave me were of self belief. That being weird was an asset. I could use it to propel my creativity forward into new and exciting places. That there were people that would accept me out there in the real world, I just had to work harder to find them, and I did.

The internet began to change. The forums I’d grown so attached to started petering out. But then, I hadn’t been paying them as much attention. I also changed. I met my now husband through online dating. He sent me a ‘wink.’ I brazenly sent back an essay about myself, with a touch of oversharing thrown in. It obviously worked and we’ve now been together for coming up to ten years. The forums had shown me that the internet could bring individuals together, that otherwise would never have met. As we got to know each other, we realised we’d been living in the same town, and going to the same gigs. I’d been up at the front dancing away, he’d been standing shyly at the back. It felt so strange to realise someone I had such a powerful connection with had over the years been standing just meters away from me at music festivals and at bars. To be in so close a proximity to someone but never speak, only to meet online and fall in love shows the power of the internet.

After over a decade of struggling to understand my constantly extreme mood swings and bizarre behaviour, I was diagnosed with Bipolar 1 and Psychosis. It whipped up an array of emotions for me; of a deep guttural anger, a sense of purest relief and of almost overwhelming fear. This was in 2012. I doubt without the forums I was so attached to I would have survived to receive a diagnosis. I never felt judged for sharing my feelings.

I’m still deeply connected to my online world and the connections I continue to create. There’s been this refocus in my online life in the past three years, to twitter and the mental health community that resides there. Twitter can be an endlessly supportive place, it’s just the way you use it that’s important. I’ve managed to find yet again a group of people who I can rely on, that I can lean on when life gets tough. People will share the most intimate thoughts about their mental health which takes serious guts. Most of the time we’re met with love and support, but every now again a troll finds it’s way through. This for me is the major difference in how the internet used to be. It has harsher edges now and it’s easier to find yourself getting cut. It feels more open and although I embrace the fact that more and more people have access to the internet, it can easily lead to confrontation.

I look at it this way; it’s an opportunity to educate and inform someone who has lived life from an entirely different perspective. Whether they are willing to learn and grow from my experiences that I share online, is entirely up to them. I believe by utilising this perspective the internet could become a better place to be in. We need to relearn that we can’t change people. We certainly can’t force that change by shouting and screaming our opinions at one another. We can use the passion for connection and understanding from that more innocent time on the internet. We are capable of putting our thoughts forward with both passion and kindness. There is growth for more genuine acts of listening and accepting difference. In the mental health community on twitter is where I’m seeing a burgeoning sense of togetherness. I feel like part of a group of like minded people again.

I felt pretty lost after my diagnosis. In fact, I became suicidal. I remember I had been sitting at the table crying for what seemed like hours. The thoughts circling my mind were becoming too painful. With conviction, I walked to the kitchen and opened the drawer where my pill boxes were laid out. Collecting them up I spread the medication over the table. I grabbed a bottle of whiskey and began drinking from it, grimacing as I did so. The tears continued unabated and between sips I cried hysterically whilst staring at the tiny pills.

I was inconsolable. I felt there was no hope for me, that I had to keep fighting when I had no fight left. I was crying so much I could hardly breathe through my sobs. I felt devoid of life. It felt like I was in a haze between life and death, of wanting to die and making it a reality. It didn’t feel like my mind was connected to my body any longer. The world around me felt ethereal, and I in a trance. A trance that could only be broken by ending my life. I wasn’t alone for the rest of the day, with my boyfriend coming home early from work to look after me. I don’t remember much else from that day. The hours morphed into a muddied state of tears and an inescapable dread. The only escape I could find was going to bed, and as I lay there I wondered if dying was like falling asleep, and how I wished that it could be this easy; that I didn’t have to ever wake up from this sleep.

I would never have written this, or admitted it, if it hadn’t been for the support I now have from the community on twitter. It’s different to the support I had on the forums back in the noughties, but it isn’t inferior. The way I spoke about my mental illness back then was full of oversharing, but often with a pinch of sarcasm and self deprecation. I hadn’t grown to accept what I was going through and how much of an impact it was having on my daily life.

As a writer I self promote; as a freelancer its essential. I’m older now and the way I use the internet has evolved as I’ve matured. I have more of a foothold, a stronger online presence. I’m fiercely open, loud and proud about my experiences of mental illness and being bisexual. There’s no more anonymity from me. I’ve found that’s a positive step. The forums I found such a connection with may have disappeared, but they gave me the confidence to stand up for the vulnerable, embrace the weird and fight against discrimination. I truly believe these online communities forged the way towards creating a generation more open to difference than ever before.