My amazing rugrats…

I’ve had a hell of a life. One of my friends said to me one day that I should write a book. I thought about that for a long while. You couldn’t argue that I am washing my dirty knickers on public because I have a blog, an FB page, a Twitter account and an Instagram. I have not yet been dragged into SnapChat and nor do I intend to. Yet despite all of that I simply do not feel comfortable at all. There are some personal aspects so humiliating and degrading that I simply cannot bring myself to discuss so openly. *shrug* Maybe one day.

Probably the most eventful periods of my life were my childhood and the years that I spent with the man who almost ended me. Painful and dramatic times. :’-( It is so difficult to focus on the positive times of my life when these brutal, evil memories come spilling into my mind without invitation. They make me cry and they cause me such emotional pain.

I was diagnosed with depression officially when I was 18. I think that I had experienced things that caused me to be depressed years before that. My diagnosis of bipolar disorder didn’t come along until around four years ago. A long time to carry those symptoms and not understand what was happening to you. I have a butt load of other issues, including generalised anxiety disorder/social anxiety, agoraphobia, telephonophobia, haphephobia, nyctophobia and more. It’s a horrible existence and staying strong is hard.

However, I have two very special reasons that I stay strong. Two wonderful, blonde headed, blue eyed reasons why I have the inner spirit to fight. My boys are the absolute centre of my universe and I would move mountains to be well for them. I have lost count of the amount of times that I have just about kept it together until the boys have gone to bed, then I have locked myself in the bathroom and sobbed until my throat was raw.

I hate the days where I am so much a coward that I just cannot face going out and I will cancel the appointment. I have fear of going out, then I have fear of the damn telephone that I have to pick up to tell people I won’t be there. I really am pathetic!

I have days where I feel trapped inside my head and I cannot think of how to move forward. I cannot see past the swirling black mass in my head. I sink into depressions and I climb into manias. It is a fucking low way to live.

I try so many different techniques, and one of the most effective has been visualisation. It’s so easy to do and works far more than any other I have tried.

Like I said. For my boys I will try absolutely anything.

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