A little bit about me

In March 2004, I became unwell. It didn’t feel like an ill feeling at first, quite the opposite. I had worked as a social worker in varying capacities for the last ten years of my life, working hard at university and working full time with a child on my own was hard and it had become increasingly more difficult as the years went on, with mounting debts and teenagers stresses, life had started to feel incredibly one dimensional. I had taken two weeks annual leave following an extremely stressful time at work. I had started to feel panicky and had stopped being able to sleep and for the most part had been using alcohol to get some rest for several months. The idea being that I took some much needed rest. However, this was not the case. I started to think of ways in which I could make the world a better place, being fairly realistic knowing that changing the world was never going to happen I came up with the idea of a project for young people and their families within my community. The project was to be called Sort-ed, sort it out with education. Within a couple of weeks I had across the UK. To cut a long story short, my behaviour had become absurd, e mails flying all over the place containing rude, suggestive and aggressive writing. Over the course of three months I had managed to erode every bit of self-respect I had by making a complete fool of myself very publicly. Everything seemed so intense visually and physically. It was like riding on a wave, never knowing whether I was ten feet up or ten feet below. I spent months dancing, singing, spending, loving, living like I was in wonderland where I could achieve anything, be anyone I wanted, say what I wanted to who ever I liked without repercussion. I had become a ticking time bomb, waiting to explode, instead I was imploding. My sexual desires where at an all time high and for several months I placed myself in incredible risky situations, falling in love and being loved became my goal. As the months progressed my mood worsened. Like all things that go up must come down. And with bi polar the higher the highs the lower the lows. Following treatment with Olanzapine I hit rock bottom. I found myself in a desperately dark unnerving place where death seemed like the only comfortable option. Thoughts of suicide filled my mind and death had become my occupation. I was on death row and luring voices were pulling me closer to my eventual fate. Fearing that my life had spiralled out of control and in desperate plea to get back to normality I returned to work.. being back at work was the worst thing that I could have possible done. I doubted my ability to do anything, began to feel as if I was somehow an impostor in this role of a professional. My mind has completely burned out, it was as if someone has emptied my head of all its contents. I felt utterly useless and desperately haunted by the sheer hopelessness that I felt. I had stopped feeling, thinking and caring about everything. Emotionally unattached my own daughter who I loved more than anything in the world. The world seemed not to have a place for me anymore, I had become a burden to society, a misfit. After three weeks of being on a phased return I could no longer hold back, I stood at the top of a twelve story building and threw myself off. I woke some weeks later in hospital, my body smashed, crushed and a mess. I had landed on my feet and broke my back, my pelvis had exploded out of my body. I had injuries to virtually every part of my body. No one of that mattered though, what mattered to me was my child, her feelings, her despair at this bizarre situation. Her mother who had always been so stable, so in control had become a weak and ….. There are few words that I can find to use to express what I felt at that time other than immense guilt. I didn’t understand myself so how could anyone else have understood. I knew I had bi polar manic depression but was not informed enough about this illness to have known that the feelings of suicide would have eventually passed. The miracle of it all was that despite the fact that I had broke my back, the main nerve remained intact. I had “izalov” frames on my feet which were incredibly painful particularly as they became infected. Never in my life have I been so determined to get out of my bed and walk, I had to piece my life together, to resume the position of being a mother. Ella was my main focus. Its been eighteen months now since this traumatic incident occurred and despite spending several months initially feeling as if I would never be able to work again I have spent the last year learning as much as I possibly can about mental health. ‘knowledge is necessary’ when it comes to having mental health problems like bi polar. Being fully informed about your illness means that you can take control. Bi polar is for life. It can be managed with medication but I find that medication alone doesn’t stop it from being a problem in my life. I have learned what my triggers are and working in child protection is and will always be too stressful for me. I have stopped drinking and that has helped enormously and I am careful about my diet. I know it all sounds a bit boring but I will choose boring and being alive and well any day. I have gone on to set up training agency and a weekly self help group in Sheffield where people can come along and share their experiences and learn from each other. I have found a wonderful group of people within the bi polar community who are colourful and interesting individuals, who without their support I would not have recovered from this so quickly. There are also other sources of support that I have tapped in Sheffield, like First Step Trust, a voluntary agency that helps people with mental health problems back into work, and Carmel Centre who run weekly support groups. There are a huge pool of support within the voluntary sector which is often overlooked by the health service. Despite the fact that I still live in constant and relentless pain, this journey has taken me to places that I would never have been if this incident had not happened. I have also gone on to write a book, ‘come on if you think your hard enough!’ which I hope will be in print by October 2006. It begs belief that as a nation we are still so ignorant about mental health issues despite the fact that illnesses like bi polar claims the lives of thousands of people each year unnecessarily. It is also astonishing that given the huge amount of people within this country alone that pop pills into their mouths on a daily basis, mental health is such a taboo subject and people are discriminated within the work force and are unable to get work due to their diagnosis. Just because someone has bi polar manic depression it does not mean that they cannot work, there is a huge pool of talent within our community that is simply not being ‘tapped into’. We are ‘ill some of the time but excluded all of the time’.