Ok, so after years of thinking about starting a blog, and even writing endless paragraphs that I would just delete without ever posting, I did it! I finally posted my first blog! A totally random one maybe, but I've feel like I've started. Started what though, I still don't know. My not even sure if blogging is the right thing for me, I do know though that the jazzy pictures, and clever website designs are far beyond my capabilities at the moment but I hoping I'll learn as a go so any little tips that you could share with me would be greatly appreciated.
When I was 22 I was diagnosed with bi polar following a long period of mania that resulted in me being sectioned in the local mental hospital. It was early 2009 and although bi polar was recognised I found that there wasn't a lot of useful information around to help me. I've wanted to blog since, not only because I feel writing helps me but maybe by sharing my experiences, I may in some way help someone else. Shortly after I became I'll for the first time I remember looking online and would just end up feeling even more scared and ashamed of this horrible label that I had been given. For me it was a label that made people look at me differently, not everyone of course but I was shocked by the number of people that I had known and spoke to for years, who shyed away from me, sometimes, almost like they were scared. Other people would and STILL DO talk to me like I have a medical condition that requires them to speak very slowly and clearly in order for me to understand what's being said, and of course there are others who are just plain rude "Fucking hell, I would never have put you down as nuts Leanne" I've even had people ask my mother "how is she doing?" In a quiet voice almost lip syncing, with a head nudge in my direction...as a stand right next to her. I've reached a point now where Im not ashamed about having bipolar, or that I sometimes suffer with depression and anxiety. As cheesy as this may sound, I'm certainly not going let it stop me living my life. I've learned to brush off the ignorant comments and the less I've come to care about what other people think the happier I've become.
After a total mental break down, periods of massive highs and extreme lows. Things are now a lot better for me than In 2009 and the rocky couple of years that followed. I'm engaged to a fantastic man, I have a gorgeous little boy and there's not a minute that goes by that I'm not thankful for my life today. I hate to use the word "stable" but for now at least, I suppose that's what I am.
As lucky as I feel today, sometimes doesn't stop of me being absolutely petrified of becoming ill again, if there's one thing that I've learned about mental health problems is that they can strike ANYBODY and at anytime. In the past I haven't really been ready to talk about what happened to me, I'd get upset even thinking about the hospital, scared. Worse though was the utter shame of how I had behaved while I was manic. It's really really difficult to describe what being manic is like, and maybe only if you have experienced mania yourself can you begain to understand it. I always say that when my mood is high it's like there's been a switch flicked on and my thoughts go into overdrive, I have so many different ideas at once, my mind literally feels like it racing. My energy levels skyrocket beyond belief, in the few months leading up to me being sectioned I was getting about 3-4 hours sleep a night, working two jobs,doing an A-level in photography at college in the evenings, two fitness classes a week, I was completely over the top about volunteering for a community gardening project! (That's a whole different story) then there was the odd party or two, i Hadn't long come back from 7 months backpacking and there's no other words other than I WAS ABSOLUTELY BONKERS! I was flying and I loved it.
I was eventually taken to hospital after more or less a full week of no sleep at all. By which point I was completely delusional and had more energy than I'd ever had in my life. I've got a fantastic family and we've always been close but After a massive bust up over them suggesting That I need to see a professional for help, I jumped in my car, realised that I had absolutely no idea where I was going to go or what I was doing. I pulled up outside the police station parked up on the pavement outside, walked in and told them that I just jumped a red light, there's no tax on my car and I was looking for directions to the mental hospital. There was complete silence as two policemen and the receptionist just stared at me. I looked off my face on drugs, I don't blame them of thinking that i was either, my eyes were like saucepans. Before I knew it I was in the back of their car and was on my way to hospital. The only thing I had heard about the place before was that you can get £50 for signing someone in. When I arrived a few of my family and friends were already there waiting, after a few crossed words, I told them to take their 50 quid and fuck off! I was acting completely out of character shouting and hauling abuse at everyone.
It was late at night by the time I had seen the psychiatrist, I refused to stay in the hospital voluntarily for observation and I remember the being told that I had left them no choice but to section me for a minimum of 28 days. I felt total panic come over me. I was taken up to the ward kicking and screaming, I can't remember how many staff there were, just arms and legs everywhere. I was frantic, Running around like a wild animal trying to get out of every door and window. I can still vividly remember the nurses telling me that I must cooperate or I would be jabbed. I had no idea what they were talking about and no idea what they were planning on jabbing me with. I did know that I didn't want medication and I didn't fancy being jabbed much either. After a bit of a struggle I opted for the medication. I lay in the bed with all sorts going through my mind, mainly who else was in here with me. If I'm honest, at this moment I was totally ignorant and I was being completely judgemental to the other people on the ward, I was scared of them all and I hadn't even met one of them. I thought all sorts, it was a nightmare, most people on the ward were sleeping, I could hear some of the other patients crying and groaning In between an eery silence. I feel so over the top when I say this now, but I felt like i had been dropped straight onto the scene of a horror movie.
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