Everything in my life should be back to normality. It really should. Yet, there's this gaping hole, this inner joy and hurt that comes and goes. Days of profound intelligence and days of sincere stupidity. I have met some very good bipolar friends on the net. Melissa, lola, Joni, Frank, John has had profound influence and support in my life, although only on a keyboard. To finally meet some people that truly understand, truly care, but are normal people in their own right, that fight the same battles s I do, was a real help to me. That amazing inner strength has dissapated, but I have learnt the trick to fight....

Yes, often I fall into depression states, often I go into manias, but at is 90% controlled, yet I kow that a major episode of either and/or both will come. I have accepted it. It is so sad that those closest to me haven't though. It eats at me. I know it's only a matter of time before I will lose my wife, maybe the next mania, the next staying out till 04h00, the next spending spree, who knows.

I am extremely scared of my depression and I am sure every BP is. After 3 suicide attempts, one does tend to get scared. Because it is so well planned usually. Or the emotions of pain and hurt, a purist emotion. One actually live it, feel it, breathe it. Fear.

 I got stronger amazingly quickly, working hard in healing myself externally from the injuries. But my real hard work was the healing on the inside. Accepting the fact that something was wrong. My dad flew up the day after the accident, being at my bedside every day. Being a very hard man, there is also a human touch. And a defence mechanism for your own I assume. All my "friends" were banned by my wife. My ex neighbour, an very intelligent and passive soul, but with a weakness for the karate water, came to visit and told me he had the fright of his life when he saw the car. That was the same Sunday night.

I got moved to a normak ward, and I can still remember thinking, how the hell can they move me to a normal ward, I can hardly move, hasn't started practising walking with crutches yet as the ribs were still broken. But somehow I managed. Not that it was easy. The first time I had to number 2, I was so slow that I didn't make it to the bathroom in time. My underpants I wrapped in toilet paper and discarded of it. Embarassing I tell you.

Everyone wanted to talk. And I just didn't want to. I couldn't. I couldn't because I didn't have any answers or excuses. What happened happened. This was also the first time my wife said that she thinks it's better that we get a divorce when I get out. My thoughts at that stage was, good heavens, this is a bit harsh, but strangely enough, accepted it. Accepted it most probably because somehow I understood it.The only thing that bothered me tremendously then was me thinking I cannot go only seeing my boy once every two weeks. I just couldn't. And till today this stands as truth. It is beyond me how people can get divorced, and live through the pain of not seeing their children daily, especially men.

My thoughts went into tail spins, from hating myself to hating others, asking God for forgiveness and othertimes not. However, I was on this strange high, a different high. My medication was given to me daily, with a nurse ensuring that they actually go down with all the other pain killers. I knew that I had to accept what was wrong, that all of us had it, 90% however in controllable waves. I accepted.

A lot of things still bother(ed) me, but more later. After 10 days in hospital, it was time to go home. At home I still had this amazing inner strength, this amazing positive feeling. Don't know why, maybe I do, it was obviously God that provided this. It was up to me to keep it though. After two days at home I got a call from the CEO of a fast growing retail chain to come and see her. Everyone said I was crazy (ha ha), I can't go for an interview on crutches and the mild pain that still existed. Somehow I knew this was it, take it. So I went for the interview on the Thursday, Friday night I got a call from her offering me the position as Operations manager, second in command in the chain. I accepted. They wanted me to start the following Thursday, and I did. I implemented what needed to be implemented, chose my own team, and so started the process of establishing the company's brand.

The problem is that everyone expected everything to be normal now, and it was, was and still is for them. However, this is like a germ, it pops at any stage. The insomnia is still here, going to bed at 03h00. My mind is still 3 steps ahead, my medication keeping control.

So, all the blogs up to and including this one was a summary of an amazing journey. My blogs from now on will be on moods, every day life, secrets revealed, my highs and lows, my urges, my relationships. It will be open and very straight. The journey has just begun 

Today I am having a downer. My mood is unstable, yet not a massive low. A thinking and withdrawing day. here my thoughts run and I try to keep up, but I can't. I am tired, but can't sleep properly. Tomorrow I will feel better, I hope. My only wish today is for my mind to stop its games.  

My story continued:

The following morning I returned home, still pretty out there, yet a feeling of no worries. Another persistent high, again. By this time my parents knew. They stay 600 miles away. Obviously this came as a shock to them, but something they couldn't really understand either. I mean, here is their son, well educated brought up in a stable family home, trying to commit suicide? My dad isn't really a talker, but I knew he hurt deep down. My mom told me I must remember I have a wife and child.

This somehow woke me up a bit. I went back on the medication and found a part time job, working from 08h00am till 21h30pm. Thinking the more I work, the better. It was a very boring  job though, being a head cashier of a dairy company, counting the drivers' takings for the day, ensuring it balances to the trip sheet. I started to feel normal again, and left my medication again, obviously still not really believing I had a sickness.

One Saturday I was watching sport having a couple of drinks. We decided to go to the local motor racing. When we got there, I was wasted already. This was after a few drinks at home. Everything then is still a blank. However, we managed to get home. Me, off course on a massive high, ade up a story that I needed cigs and left for the local pub. There, I was later told, I spent money left and right, buying drinks for everyone, including myself. Till this day I do not remember how I got home, but I drove, waking up the following morning, in my car. I went inside, my wife and kid not there. I felt nothing, the high still persisting, I went to visit a friend. We had a couple of drinks. Then I wated to party, so we went to the same place again. So I was told, as I shamefully cannot remember it.

Then I went to the video store, collected 5 dvd's, drove home. My last thought which I can remember was I am in deep shit again, and I don't feel like it. This was 31st July.

On the 3rd August I woke up in the ICU unit of a private hospital. There were no thoughts, no questions, no fights. I remember the physio and an assistant holding me down and starting to hit my chest in order for my flemme to loosen. I remember thinking, today I die, so excruciating was the pain. 

I broke my right leg, had to have an emergency op done as my main vein started to leak internally, giving me 15 min to live, my left longue fell flat, had 6 broken ribs. I drove my car into a tree on that fateful night of 31 July.

Here I was lying, not knowing at all what really happened, seeing people but not remembering anyone.

A person, so fucked up, yet still here to share my story. Fucked up.

I think many of you first reaction will be, you should have died you bastard!!!!

But what followed, was a path of amazing recovery, of fate and of an epiphany.  

Now, feeling great I wondered into a sense of godliness. Nothing could get me down, or so it felt. One week after I left my medication, it all started again. I started gambling again, I remember one specific weekend when I spent 15k from Friday evening to Sunday morning. I got lot in sense of time. And off course I lost, but it didn't bother me. Somehow there was always money.

I started staying out late again, for now excluding Fridays. I drank, many a night not even remembering how much I spent or drank. Man a night partying right through till the following evening. So much for having guilt feelings hey. This made me feel good, although it was so so bad. I had friends, man I had friends. I would meet strangers and we would have a ball of a time. Yet, and it's true, I never had a relationship with any woman (yet). And the chances and opportunities did present itself. All the time. But somehow that stayed away. Came close often though. Later I would learn who were true friends and who not. I had a second mobile phone for my friends cause I was scared my wife would find out. And knowing that she would disapprove, especially my female friends. People knew me though, I was popular and I liked it. The downfall is off course that my downs were hidden from them, in fact, from everybody.

Days went passed were did nothing, falling into depression on feelings of guilt, low concentration phases, worrying about everything, but never about money. The lows became more intense, more vicious as I planned suicide again. This time driving into a barrier, ensuring death and an insurance pay out as it would be seen as an accident.

Then I started staying away Friday nights. I would walk in, drunk, take money out of my wife's purse, just to go jolling again.

Then, one Friday night, after a barbecue, my wife moaned about my alcohol consumption. And, knowing that I had plans, I took the opportunity and drank all my sleeping pills. At once. Thank God I didn't take all the litheum as well, as I could have had a brain seizure. Now, after that I can literally remember nothing, except waking up in hospital the following afternoon, with a nurse standing in the room, making sure I dont try anything... My wife and child came later, still not understanding what is wrong, as these things do not exist in her mind....

This was my first brush with death... The real turning point still laid ahead... More on that tomorrow  

 My first dart with a "mental" institution came in October 04. This was after my pulled first suicide attempt. So, I booked myself in through my psychiatrist. She told me that she thinks I am a manic depressive, which I laughed off. So, I wasn't on any medication until my first clinic visit. That night, after a sleeping tablet, I slept like a baby for the first time in 12 years. I met people whom I could relate to, with the same impulsiveness, same lows, highs, highly intelligent individuals that could have long conversations on any subject in the world. I felt at home in a peculiar, yet satisfying manner. This is where I met Chris, who would become a real pillar for a short time. His wife understood his sickness, why couldn't mine I thought at the time. Then one day his wife told me, JD, it takes time. Do you really think there wasn't times I wanted to leave, run away, murder him. But love is a big thing. THis small, yet deeply movng statement, moved me. Every time I saw my son, he didn't visit every day, tears shot into my eyes and I got this extreme guilt feeling. And say to myself, this is it, get yourself right. But the one thing of a bipolar's mind is unfortunately that it is always 3 steps on, hence the lack of concentration for extended periods of time.

My psychologist in hospital, Dr le Kleux, then after day 4 and after intensive visits to his office in the clinic, informed me what I feared, not stress, not tired, but bipolar mood disorder. He spoke openly and harshly with me that I must stop drinking completely as the medication will work against it. Litheum is really a wonder drug, basically salt based. And that day I went onto Litheum and Epilim. His words were simple: "This will keep your life together" I knew as well that a few things needed to change.

After a week, I dismissed myself and felt ready for anything. After one month of continuously drinking my tablets and really feeling great, I made one of the most fatal decisions of my life... I stopped the medication because I felt normal. What followed is of such horror and miracles which I will share with you tomorrow.....