I am definitely in recovery as I am starting to sleep longer – for the past year I have been surviving on 4 hours sleep a night, which everyone will tell you is not enough, however my body clock seemed determined that I would wake up at 3 or 4 in the morning and that was all there was to it.

I functioned fine, or so I thought. Then, last summer, 4 hours became less and one day, I went to work with no hours sleep and that’s when my psychosis became full blown.

I realise now I stayed in psychosis for quite a while last summer. I was only made aware recently of some of my actions which were appalling.

I don’t want to remember all I did. It fills me with shame.

I now find myself in a few situations that are tough to deal with; my return to work the hardest.

I am desperate to return see but my return is being delayed.

I am a little scared of returning to work truth be told, I am not sure if it is the aftermath of the psychosis, who I am or whether the effect of the depression but I am finding it hard being around people for long periods of time.

Reason being, I seem to be an outsider looking in to “normal” life.

I went out to lunch with my friend Miles today and I found myself looking at the people around me and trying to imagine their cosy life. You know, a life with no mental illness.


I felt such an outsider, outcast doing this. I wish my life was simple. As simple as having lunch with a friend or a colleague.

I felt so alone.

It seems most people who have mental health issues have people around them, partners, families, to support them through their hard times.

Apart from a handful of contacts, I have no-one serious. It makes the journey that little, lot, tougher.

Sometimes though I wonder how the journey would feel if I had someone to help me cope with it. Would I feel guilt on top of the other negative emotions? Guilt of not being a different, happier person.

It’s funny, not a month ago, I felt happier than I had been in a long time. How do things go so wrong so quickly?

I am writing all this in the hope it will help me pull through this cycle.

Happy, a month ago.

I wonder where I will be a month from now…



It’s time I accepted something isn’t right with me.

This past year has been amazing, up to July, when I lost the plot and suffered a couple of psychosis.

The diagnosis is Bipolar Type 1. Something I have fervently refused to accept since being back from Canada over five years ago now as I had never had any mental health issues up to then but I must face reality.

I have had six psychosis now since my husband left me and two depressions.

As I write, I am fighting another depression.

Things had been going good til my reality hit me: signed off work with long days of nothing to do, it soon drives you insane.

It did me.

On top of that, my new lover has been sectioned again, he can’t cope with the real world he said, and he was suicidal.

So he is now locked up an hour away from me and he is not fit for visitors. I don’t know what will happen to us.

Part of the depression is realising the damage I caused when I was in psychosis mode. The people I have upset, the relationships that have broken down. I am lucky work took me back as I sent some “interesting” emails to them during that time.

Being alone is weighing hard on me too. I realise I have no-one, no-one to help me in this journey called life. It’s really tough doing it alone.

Every day I am reaching out where I can but it doesn’t feel like it’s making a difference.

So BP1, what does that mean for me? How is my life going to be affected by this?

I am now taking anti-psychotic medication, via a jab every two weeks, should I be medicated for depression too? When does the darkness become too much that it needs medication? Can I even cope with life?

I don’t know what to do anymore. I let each day unfold, hoping it will be a better day but each night I am relieved when it is time to go to bed, another day over. Waiting for the day I will feel better.

Will it happen just like that? Will there be a day I wake up with a smile on my face again?

I had hoped never to experience depression again, I had hoped wrong.