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.

Living With Psychosis – How Your Language Can Hurt

If you throw around the words ‘psychotic’ or ‘delusional’ to describe someone you disagree with, or roll it out when you’ve been hurt or upset – then you can’t call yourself a mental health advocate, or say that you care about mental health. There, I’ve said it.

People have said to me, “But surely delusional doesn’t just have a pathological meaning?” My answer to that is it depends on the context. I think generally people know what they’re insinuating when they call someone delusional. They know exactly what they’re doing, what they mean, and the reaction they’re trying to invoke. I have delusional thinking and I find it offensive when someone uses it as a slur. Delusional, and the word psychotic, are not synonymous with badness, which is often how they are used. The English language is huge and I don’t think it’s much of a stretch to change up your vocabulary!

The misuse use of these words is one of those things about mental illness that just doesn’t stick when you talk about it. And I’m majorly fed up with explaining it. People either don’t want to change the language they use, don’t see it’s a problem, or simply forget the point, and start using the words all over again. I see or hear the word psychotic misused pretty much everyday. It’s either on social media, in tv or film. So really, it’s EVERYWHERE. It’s exhausting to keep calling it out, or getting annoyed at a show or a movie when they use it in the wrong context.

I’ve had people say to me “C’mon, it’s not a big deal, it’s just a word!” That’s your opinion, but it’s important to listen to the opinion of people that are actually psychotic. That live with the condition/symptom and have to hear the word being used negatively every single day. Imagine you’ve been diagnosed with psychosis. The word psychotic has become a part of your life, whether you want it to or not. You know the feeling of dread when you start to hear, see or feel things that aren’t really there. You remember the extreme paranoia or delusions of grandeur that come with delusional thinking. You’re slowly learning to manage it, but it’s terrifying. It’s confusing and disorientating. It makes you feel extremely vulnerable. You feel untethered from reality and like there is no safety net to catch you. Because of all of this, you’re at a higher risk when you’re ill of being the victim of crime than the general population. Then imagine a friend has had a bad break up. They suddenly start describing their ex to you as a “psychotic nazi.” Later that day you find a show you think you’ll like and put it on the telly. The villain, the character the audience is supposed to hate, is described as psychotic. The next day, a family member rants to you about a politician. They tell you that they’re “evil, dangerous, psychotic.” And it continues like this, with people all around you casually throwing the word around – not once thinking about the impact it will have on you.

All I’m asking is to think before you speak. It all adds up. You might think it’s not a big deal when you say it, but hearing it constantly misused takes it’s toll. If you live with psychosis it warps the way you think about yourself. You start questioning, “Am I a bad person?” “Am I dangerous when I’m ill?” Because the word has been given a different meaning by the people around you and in society in general. It’s so commonly misused you start to doubt whether the way you use the word is right. It grinds you down, it makes you feel like you’re broken and people see you as dangerous.

They’re not ‘just words’ they carry venom that poisons people that are already vulnerable. It stops people from accessing care and support because they don’t want the label. It isolates people that already feel alone and misunderstood.

No, that person you disagree with isn’t delusional

As someone that experiences actual delusional thinking, it’s difficult to hear people using the word to describe someone they disagree with. By using this term all you’re doing is insinuating our symptoms are synonymous with badness.

I live with Bipolar disorder, with psychotic symptoms. When I have an episode of bipolar mania, I might become delusional. This means I often experience delusions of grandeur. I’ve experienced this since my late teens, with it first surfacing at University. I wasn’t diagnosed until my mid twenties. Delusional thinking means I lose touch with reality. A recurring belief I’ve had is that I’m not only invincible, but that I’m incredibly important. I’ll believe it’s impossible for me to be hurt by anything or anyone. I’ll also think that this power extends to people keeping me out of harms way. It doesn’t make sense and it’s not supposed to! In the moment though I’m convinced I’m right, and any evidence to the contrary wouldn’t change my mind. Delusional thinking has caused me to be run over. I would just walk out into busy roads without looking, believing everything would be ok. Luckily I came away with just bruises, which further fuelled the delusions. I’ve also be in quite a serious car crash because I decided I could drive in the middle of the road, because cars would move out of my way. Again, somehow, no one was hurt.

With elections, Brexit and Trump, I’ve heard more and more people use the word as a slur. I’ve even had someone from my extended family use it, when they know I suffer with delusions. When opposing sides are arguing, or even just having a debate on an issue, the go to word seems to be ‘delusional’. I’ve heard phrases in the media, by experts in their field, by politicians in interviews all along the lines of;

“This policy is delusional”

“What they’re suggesting is delusional.”

“This delusion will harm the public/economy/our country etc.

It’s insensitive, lazy and a gross misuse of the word. “But delusional means different things!” It may do, but it’s obvious what meaning people are trying to convey when they call someone delusional when they deeply disagree with someone. It’s hard enough trying to explain what delusions are to family and friends, without them constantly hearing the word in a negative light on the news, on social media and by the people running our country. The more people hear the word used in this way, the more likely they are to use it in their day to day language.

Why does it matter what words people use? It’s just a word isn’t it? Well, it portrays delusions, and the people that experience them, as bad. It fuels the idea that people that experience delusions are dangerous. It’s deeply hurtful to the individuals that experience them. We’re human beings and are affected by an illness that can completely overwhelm us, cause damage to our relationships and our lives. We deserve to be listened to when we say a word used in this negative context is hurtful.

Changing up your vocabulary isn’t difficult. Try using words to convey how you feel about what someone has suggested, such as; unrealistic, fantasy, pipe dream, confused, wrong, ignorant etc. Think about that difference of opinion, and the emotion or belief that first pops into your head, and use that word.

I’ve heard people saying that awareness raising has had its moment; that people understand what depression and anxiety is now. I think the way delusional is used shows that stigma, and a lack of knowledge and understanding is still rife when it comes to certain mental illnesses. The less palatable it seems, the more stigma exists.

Before you say it, think about the person behind the word. Think about the ordinary person, like me, who experiences delusions. Think about how you would feel if something you live with was thrown around to attack, discredit, and insinuate someone is bad and cruel. I don’t think you’d use the word in the same way again.

Ideas To Help Someone With Psychosis

I’ve listed on the blog before about what not to say to someone with psychosis, and although that’s important, I realised I didn’t go into much detail about what helps. As I’ve mentioned before, psychosis covers experiences from hearing, seeing, or feeling things that aren’t really there, and delusions. Delusional thinking causes us to believe grandiose ideas about ourselves, or may make us paranoid and secretive. Here’s a list of 6 things you can do to help.

Be gentle and calm. It’s easy to get frustrated with someone when what they’re saying doesn’t make any sense. You might feel like calling them out and confronting them. Don’t. What they’re experiencing is very real to them at that moment. Challenging their beliefs could easily push them away – if they’re paranoid it could even fuel the delusion.

Listen and try to understand. Listen to what they say and stay calm. You don’t have to agree with what they’re saying. Don’t encourage a delusion as this can make things worse. Ask them what would help, and if you’re struggling to understand educate yourself a little more about what psychosis is.

Focus on their feelings. It’s important to talk about how someone is feeling rather than the experience they are having. If they’re feeling stressed or worried, this could be the reason for why they are having an episode of psychosis. Making them feel safe and secure can help guide them through the experience.

Show them respect. Don’t be critical of what they’re going through or over protective. You might feel that you know better, and telling them what to do will help. However, it often creates a divide. You can respect their wishes to an extent. For instance, if they want to be supported in the home, rather than in hospital you should respect that, unless they become a danger to themselves or others.

Put a crisis plan in place. A crisis plan involves deciding on treatment options and hospital visits. You can also put together an informal plan with your loved one, where you set boundaries. By this I mean, what you can and can’t deal with when they’re in crisis. It’s helpful to be honest and have a plan in place before a crisis hits.

Look after yourself. It can be challenging, upsetting, and sometimes distressing looking after someone going through psychosis. It’s important to take care of your own wellbeing and health during these times.

This isn’t an exhaustive list, only what I would find helpful and how I’d like to be treated when experiencing psychosis. Ultimately, everyone who goes through psychosis has a different experience of it and their needs will not look the same as mine. This is why it’s vital you talk to that person to get an understanding of their unique experiences, before they become ill.

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!

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?

Tactile Hallucinations

For the past few months I haven’t been sleeping properly. It has taken over all aspects of my life. Most notably, here on my blog. I haven’t blogged for months, because I simply haven’t had the concentration span to finish a post.

I’ve been irritable and moody. My short temper is now just a very blunt fuse. Every little annoyance is blown way out of proportion. I’m exhausted all the time. I walk around in a haze not really able to focus.

I have tried everything I can think of to try and sleep. I’ve listened to everyone’s opinions and well meaning advice. I’ve stopped drinking. Cut down on caffeine. I’m exercising more. I’ve even tried meditating, which for me is unheard of. Nothing has worked.

You’re probably thinking,

“Just go to the doctor already!”

You see, I’ve been putting it off. I knew if I went I’d have to talk about the main cause of why I can’t sleep. Everyday for months, I’ve felt like something is crawling over my skin. Mostly I can ignore it during the day, I’m moving around, busy with work, or socialising. At night though the feeling is hellish. Laying in the dark everything feels more intense, more real. There’s a crawling, ticklish feeling over a toe. I slap it with the palm of my hand. A few seconds later I feel something on my leg, my arm, even my face and neck. It goes on and on for hours.

I’ve found with much of the psychotic symptoms I’ve displayed, like hearing voices, my first reaction is to deny, deny, deny. I think, there must be a mosquito in my room. Countless times I’ve got out of bed, turned the light on and scanned the room for the little bugger. I never find it. There isn’t anything to find. This week I’ve managed to face it head on and go and see my GP. I wasn’t going to mention it but the doctor very astutely recognised I was holding back the real reason I was having so much trouble sleeping. Please can we have more doctors like her, who are attentive, empathetic and make time for their patients! I need to go back and sort out a referral to see a psychiatrist, because at the moment I don’t have one. This was after I was discharged in the same appointment where I admitted having suicidal thoughts only hours earlier.

As I’m writing this I can feel a crawling sensation on my thigh. I’m wearing shorts so I can see the skin where there feels like there should be a bug. I’m looking at it and still the sensation lingers on. It’s freaky as fuck. I’m desperately wishing for it to stop now.

I worry intensely about going to bed, because I know I’ll be kept awake by these phantom insects. Every night I think to myself,

“This is the night where it stops. This is the night where I can finally sleep.”

But every night it’s the same old frustrating routine.

This is very new to me, and I’m still coming to terms with it. Even though I’ve experienced psychosis before, and I’m open about my experiences, I’ve still found myself nervously talking to my partner and family about this new symptom. I still worry how people will look at me when I explain the experience. I want to know more people that have tactile hallucinations, have discussions and learn from one another, so get in touch in the comments or message me!

What Not To Say To Someone With Psychosis

Psychosis happens amongst people with the mental illnesses schizophrenia, schizoaffective disorder, post partum psychosis, and sometimes those with bipolar disorder, borderline personality disorder and severe depression. Psychosis is experienced in two different ways; hallucinations and delusions.

Hallucinations are when a person hears, sees, smells, tastes or feels something that isn’t really there. It’s a sensory experience that happens without any outside stimuli. The world around them is perceived differently to everyone else, with others not being able to see, hear, or feel what they can. The whole experience feels very real to the person experiencing it. One of the most common hallucinations is hearing sounds and voices.

Those with psychosis often lose touch with reality and suffer delusions. Delusions are when you believe wild theories and beliefs that often have no evidence based in fact. People may have what’s called ‘delusions of grandeur’ where they may feel like the most important person in the world. They may believe they have powers or intelligence above and beyond anyone else.

Since being open about my experiences of psychosis, I’ve had many ‘helpful’ comments and sometimes some that are just downright insulting. So I’ve put together a list of the top comments that really shouldn’t be said to anyone with psychosis.

“Does that mean you’re violent?

This one comes up again and again. A very small minority of people with psychosis are dangerous. The vast majority are actually far more at risk of being a victim of violence and crime than committing one. Psychosis in fact makes you feel extremely vulnerable and scared of the world around you.

“Have you taken your meds?”

I find being asked this condescending and just rude. When I’m going through an episode of psychosis, being asked this question is not helpful. It actually makes me feel more paranoid than I already am.

“I’ve had hallucinations when I took…”

Ok, you may have taken an hallucinogen at some point, but it’s an entirely different experience when you suffer with psychosis. You have no idea when the next episode may happen, you can’t pick and choose how and when.

“You must be really mental, shouldn’t you be in hospital?”

I have lived with psychosis since I was a teenager and I’ve learnt how to cope with the voices I hear. When I have delusions I rely on my partner and family to keep an eye on me and my behaviour. It is possible to have an episode of psychosis and manage it without hospitalisation. Believing I should be locked away is deeply stigmatising and creates barriers to people discussing it. I might be having an experience that person finds uncomfortable and doesn’t fully understand, but that is on them to educate themselves, not for me to hide away.

“It’s just like having an imaginary friend isn’t it?”

I hear voices and no, it’s not like having an imaginary friend. That’s because children use their imaginations to create stories and scenarios. Psychosis feels like it’s coming from an outside source, from outside your own inner monologue or imagination. Imaginary friends are often a source of comfort to the person. Although voices can sometimes be a positive experience, they can also be deeply frightening and disturbing.

“That’s such a stupid thing to believe!”

Confronting and arguing with someone about a delusion they are experiencing is not helpful. It may sound ridiculous to you, but to them, in a midst of a psychotic episode it is very real. You can’t convince someone to start looking at something in a different way. They’re unwell and need understanding and support. Empathise with their situation and what they’re going through. Try and focus on what might be troubling them and what you might be able to do to alleviate the stress they’re feeling.

“Just stop thinking about it!”

This doesn’t work. It might be frustrating trying to understand, but you can’t just snap out of a psychotic episode. I literally can’t stop thinking about the delusion or the voices I’m hearing. Often the person just needs to ride out the experience if they’re having hallucinations. Instead focus on asking what you can do to help them. Be gentle in your questioning and stay calm.

101 Things No-one Tells You About Mania

It is more than just being happy
Mania makes me feel euphoric
Mania makes me feel constantly ‘on’ and ready
Mania makes me feel a constant sense of anticipation
Sufferers all have slightly different periods of hypomania and mania.
An episode could last days
An episode could last weeks
A hypomanic or manic episode could last months
Mania is not always fun
Mania can be frightening and make me feel completely out of control
Mania can make me delusional
Mania can make me feel furious at everyone and everything
Mania makes me feel irritable and restless to a point where I can no longer sleep
Mania will make me pace incessantly
I will feel that I constantly need to be doing something
Sometimes mania makes me scratch and pick at my skin
Sleep deprivation is agony
Mania has put me in danger
I will have no fear
Fights will start with random people because I have no filter to what I say
I will get run over because I believe cars should stop for me
My driving will be reckless
I will crash my car and laugh hysterically whilst it’s happening
I will believe I can drive like a racing driver
When manic, I’ll drink and take other drugs excessively
I will drink a bottle of whisky in my flat alone just because I want to
When I’m manic I’ll want sex all the time.
I will wake my partner up at four in the morning because I want sex
I will begin wild and whimsical projects that will take over my life
These projects will be left unfinished when mania turns to depression
I will be able to concentrate on projects for days on end
Projects will be so important I’ll stay up all night – and then the next night
I will forget to eat for days at a time
I will not eat because I have more important things to do
I will go to the gym obsessively
I will not eat and exercise excessively
I will faint in the shower because I haven’t eaten and have over exercised
I will lose the ability to understand the concept of money when I’m manic
I will constantly be in debt
I will spend hundreds of pounds on a pair of shoes anyway because I’m manic
I will stop paying bills because my memory is impaired
I will stop paying bills because I believe I don’t need to
I will believe everything will sort itself out because I’m too important for anything bad to happen to me
Mania comes with it’s own special variety of intense anger that can’t be satiated
I will punch holes in the wall so I don’t punch someone I love
I will trash my possessions because the anger is too much
Relationships will end because of mania
The anger will cause me to lash out verbally and hurt the people closest to me
Anger will cost me many opportunities; in education and my career
I will neglect my job
I will regularly avoid attending appointments because I’d rather be doing what I want to do
I will walk out of a college course because I clash with a lecturer
I will believe I’m better than everyone else.
I will believe I’m the smartest person in the room, all the time.
My speech will be pressured
I will get annoyed when I speak too fast for people to understand
I won’t realise I’m doing this and believe I’m acting perfectly normal
My thoughts will race constantly
I will get frustrated when people can’t keep up with my train of thought
I will belittle people and call them stupid for not keeping up
I won’t listen to anyone when I’m manic
I will believe my opinions are more important than anyone else’s
No one can reason with me during mania
People will tell me I’ve upset them and I’ll laugh in their face
I will make people cry
Psychosis when I’m manic can spur me on to do even more dangerous things
Sometimes I will secretly wish to be manic again
The come down from mania to depression will make me suicidal
After a manic episode ends, I will be completely and utterly exhausted
This exhaustion will lead to physical illnesses
You will take more time off school/work than any of your classmates/colleagues
My memory and concentration will be impaired
Medication is not a magic wand
Therapy is not a magic wand
There will be times when I will stop taking medication because I want to be manic again.
Withdrawal symptoms are worse than the flu
It will make me feel isolated and alone
Hearing people say ‘I’m so Bipolar!’ will set my teeth on edge
People will compare me to characters from tv and film depicted with bipolar
People will tell me their jealous of the mania I experience
People will think I’m a creative genius
People won’t believe I have bipolar because they haven’t seen me in full blown mania
I will worry about people finding out and thinking I’m mad
I will worry about telling friends and family for fear they won’t understand
Some people, who might be family or friends, will never understand
The acknowledgement I will never be able to change their opinions of the disorder is heartbreaking
I will worry about disclosing at interview or when I start a job, because they may find an excuse not to employ me
It will take years for me to be diagnosed
I will be tested for every physical ailment linked to depression and tiredness, because I won’t see a doctor when I’m manic.
Mental health professionals will have differing opinions about my care
I will have to adjust to the idea of living with the disorder for the rest of my life
After diagnosis, I will start identifying what triggers a manic episode
I will start to identify the warning signs of a manic episode
I will have to rely on friends and family to identify these warning signs
I will have to tell family and friends to tell me when I’ve upset them when I’ve been manic
I will spend time when I’m stable again apologising for my behaviour
I will learn that mania isn’t an excuse for my behaviour, but an explanation for it
I will learn I have to make lifestyle changes to be stable
I will learn that mania is self destructive
I will learn not to miss mania when I’m stable
I will learn to enjoy stability