Tag Archives: The perils of having Bipolar and BPD


It is now 2.12am Sunday 26th after a wonderful meeting the Pakistani community and making new friends I have found myself being teary, actually not teary crying. Why does this happen to me. I hate that I can not enjoy the feeling of doing something good, helping people. I always crash and I hate it. The worst part is I have no one here to talk to, work through it, hold me and say………don’t worry it will be ok!!!


Sometimes my life really does suck big time. I know people see the happy me, the okay me, the tired me, the I am competent me, the confident me, the make up me, the mother me, the Christian me, the kind me. I find it so hard to show the vulnerable me. Lets face it why would I want to show the world the sad me just so someone can kick me when I am down. Life has shown me that when it comes to me I know not to be a broken shell only to be trampled me.

This is the time when I know I am truly on my own. Yes I have God and he listens but he doesn’t always help, and I know I am to blame. No one else is to blame as it is my insecurities that make me crash and know just how un-loveable I feel when its 2 in the morning and again I am on my own. I do not know what I would do if I didn’t have my blog.

I wonder if there will ever be a time that my life will be a continuous happy place. But I am dreaming as BPD/BP doesn’t just go away. Tablets can help but they are not the problem its me. I am making it so that no one can see me. The DARK me, the me that is vulnerable and actually wants to say please give me a hug, please SEE me. I am not as strong as people think I am. But people see what I want them to see.

It’s a vicious circle I’m okay——I’m happy——I’m sad——I’m okay—–I’m happy—–I’m sad and it goes round and round and round.

I wonder if people can’t see me then do I see them. Do I know when my friends need a shoulder to lean on or a hug or  just not to be alone. I would hope I do but what if I don’t. What type of friend would I be if I didn’t see if a friend was in need.

I can’t think anymore my brain and eyes hurt let alone the pain in my heart. Why do good people die when the people who hurt people live just to cause more hurt and damage people. It’s not fair!!!!!!!!!!






Yesterday a dear friend who I have known for many years wrote something quite innocent on my wall regarding Piaroo’s Wish Helping the Homeless and Vulnerable in Reading. It was very helpful which I established after a few hours.


Satty…. You need to start taking a register/tally from your drop off in town, especially…

Some folks are making valid points about certain people not being homeless, or no longer vulnerable…
Yeah, you get people who need help as a one off, or a couple of times until they get back on their feet, like I needed it once…
But there are folks who don’t need it, or who are taking more than they need instead of doing their own shopping… Sadly…
I’m ok now, I can forward help on now….
But you need to keep a tally, because some of those folks either, no longer need it and are taking advantage, or are receiving from a food-bank or a church regularly, or even their own families…
I will PM you….                     img_4458

Now for me this is what I read……………

Satty your not doing it right. You need to do this because people are talking behind your back saying that you are a easy target and people you are helping do not need what you are offering.                                                                                                                                                 People are saying that the people you are helping are taking the Michael out of you they are not homeless and they are already getting help from other places. They only need your help once and after that they do not need your help because they are fine and on their feet.  People are taking items from you instead of using the benefit money that they are receiving to buy their own shopping.

You helped me once and that was all I needed and that I am fine now and I didn’t take the Michael out of you. I only asked for what I needed once.

You need o do your job properly because you are doing it wrong. The people you help are not people that need your help. You are doing your job wrong. You need to do a tally because people are taking the Michael out of you. You need to do your job properly. Your wasting your time and everything you have done over the last fifteen months has been a joke and people are laughing behind your back because your useless and a waste of space.



Now as you can see what she wrote was nothing to what I actually read. This is what happens to me when I feel like I am being criticised or told I’m not doing a good job. At first when I read it I went into complete paranoia and on the defence so I asked politely for people on the group page to please read what my friend had written.                                    Funnily enough they all came back and said that what she had written was supportive genuine kind and loving. That she was making valid points and that I should take what she had written to be exactly what is was. If only my mind and brain would listen to everyone’s lovely kind words of wisdom.

I did apologise to my friend on several occasions saying that I had read what she had written completely wrong and that I was in the wrong and that I know she means well and is helpful. Also that she was very clever.

Now even though I totally believed what I had written and agreed that I was wrong and that she was right my head was saying something completely different. My paranoia had taken over and I knew I was in for a rough couple of days. My mental health issues were not going to let this lie. Deep within my mind all my old issues of being told I was wrong, useless, waste of air and space, obsolete and insignificant took hold.                                        So what I did was go onto some facebook events and played deal or no deal and also bingo and I won because I am so competitive which makes me feel like I am someone and that I am clever. Once all that was over I read what had been written in response to my post on the group page and also on my profile. As I reread what had written I genuinely agreed with what people were saying however my inner demons were still saying the usual rubbish and immobilising my happiness.                                                                                              At night my bi polar took its toll. I had the worst nightmare about being a bad mother NOW FOR ME THAT WAS A TERRIBLE THING FOR MY MENTAL HEALTH TO TAKE AHOLD OF.                                                                                                                                                                     My nightmare had only began. I was being hunted and also being verbally abused as a mother. The Asian community or my so called relatives were saying the most nastiest comments and the men were equally or more so aggressive and where mentally abusing me. I woke up around 5am which I was not happy about because I had only gone to sleep at 2am. I woke up with an panic attack and trembling. Its now 8.22am and I’m trembling within and my head is shaky. My impulse is to pretend everything is fine and that I am okay and that there is nothing wrong with me, only thing is I know better.                                I now have to put on a mask and pretend all is okay that I have no inner turmoil, that I am totally fine, that I’m okay however its not true.


This slideshow requires JavaScript.




Nightly Thoughts



Every evening once my son has gone to sleep I am left with my thoughts and I wonder why is it that I do not feel normal. I know I feel normal during the day. it may sound stupid but during the day I have a purpose, I am a mother, I am a volunteer editor for Dee Park News, I am not alone.


I am alone just a different type of alone.

At night I sometimes think what is the point? Why carry on? Do I have a purpose? Has God got a better plan for me or is this it?

I think about all the badness in the world and how I can fight everyone and everything to make life better for other people but I can do that for myself. O have the same thoughts especially on a Sunday Night. The eve before my group therapy session. My anxiety is always worse on a Monday, with minor attacks and the thought of having to spend time in the cold building on Erleigh Road. I can see myself walking slowly not wanting to go and having to force each footstep. With every step I remember the conversations in my head. The subject matter and my anger and frustrations.

I want to kick and stomp and shout and yell and scream and hurt.

I hold so much anger inside and the new memories that have come back have been so confusing for me. I can not comprehend that I have held so many wonderful memories buried in my head. I am glad that they are coming back makes me happy but confused.


The quietness of night has never been good for me. I have never been a friend to the darkness but the stars have lit the path that I had taken to get me to where I am now. This earth is awash with darkness and evil. It is times like this I remember that God is by my side and got me through the worst and best of times. I believe that therapy will do me good but FIRST I need to accept my past to move forward to a life where I know that I deserve to be loved.

I have to BELIEVE that I am loveable inside and out. I NEED to be the light in the darkness so I can see where I am going.

I have to find my smile again!!!





The day after helping the homeless in Reading is always very hard for me to deal with. There are so many factors that bring me down from the amount of painkillers it takes me to do the volunteering on a Wednesday to the feelings of uselessness I feel.

The picture is a picture I took of where a gentleman called Carl sleeps. He shares the space with another gentleman. I took this picture because it reminded me of a doorway I slept in when I was homeless a very long time ago. It is not hard for me to remember that time, where I spent my first Christmas when I left home.

The problem with having a mental illness is sometimes you can not control how your going to feel but I can control the depth I go to, because of all the types of therapy I have had in my life.

I woke up several times last night struggling to sleep, when the time came to get out of bed I struggled with the pain so took some of my painkillers and drifted off to bed. I finally woke up and dragged my carcass out of the bedroom and took more painkillers. As I brushed my teeth the tears rolled down my face and my heart ached with a blackness.  I limped over to the kitchen and forced a sliced of bread and butter and a cuppa down my throat, only because I had to take my morning pills.

I dragged myself to the lounge and put the laptop on and played mafia wars pretending to kills of the demons within me. The telly was on and I did try to listen but my head drifted to a time in my life where life for me was hopeless.  Before I had my son my entire existence  was based on a hatred I had, not just for my past but also I future that was taken away from me at a young age. Anyone who has suffered trauma and had something precious taken from them such as being abused in many forms can understand the loss of a future of happiness love laughter family success and all the things I desired for myself as a child.  This may sound stupid but as a young child I wanted to be like Margaret Thatcher. By the age of 9 I wanted to be a dancer and in my teens I wanted to be a choreographer. I remember going to see Cats at it was amazing. I was lost in a world for a few hours, until I got home.

Now I struggle to walk until I take my pharmacy of tablets and as the day goes on the more I take the better I feel. On days where I have to go out I spend the day before taking it as easy as I can and on the actual day I will pump my body with more than I am suppose to. I know I should not take more than eight painkillers but 8 just touches the sides and I need to do something good. Give back to the world. Try to make this world a better place. Its not just an urgency in helping the homeless its so much more. It is hoping to help someone to have a life. Knowing the kinds of reasons why someone is on the streets and understanding their past to help them have a better future.

No one wakes up in the morning and says to themselves, I know lets be homeless it will be so much fun and we can have a laugh. I ended up on the streets because I was staying in a hostel and it was snowing and that day one of the residents got chucked out and I could not see him sleeping in the snow so I sneaked him in, anyway one of the other residents who had a grievance with me told the night duty officer and we both ended up out on our ears. That night we both slept in a doorway way of restaurant in Slough. We both departed our ways the next day and I was on my own with about six For the next few weeks I found myself stealing from Marks and Spencers in the Queenmere shopping centre. Stealing the goods in any pub I could and sleeping in the car park on the High Street. Going through the rubbish bins for scraps of food when I could not steal anything, picking up cigarette butts to smoke.  Trudging through the snow cold and wearing as many layers as I could was hard but the worst part of being homeless was the looks from people. The look of disgust and loathing. I could image what their thoughts were because I had the same thoughts. My life was over my dreams and passions my wants and desires I had were gone, dust in the wind.

After a few weeks I was arrested and I was lucky that I had the same solicitor as my brother Mr Hobbs. I  must admit I was terrified. Not of the thought of going to prison because it was my first offence and I knew I was just going to get a warning, but that this would be my life in and out of the courts ending up like my junkie brother. Mr Hobbs knew I didn’t want that so when the judge said I was just going to have a caution I actually screamed ” I AM GOING OUT RIGHT NOW AND GOING TO STEAL AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN UNLESS YOU HELP ME NOW!!!!!!!” It actually worked and he then gave me six moths probation with Conditional of Residence in Wellesley House in Windsor. That was the beginning of my way out to a better life and to leave the darkness behind me.

I know some of the reasons why people end up on the streets running from a life of sexual, physical or mental abuse or being beaten by a partner. Listening to Peter’s story of how he ended up being homeless six years ago. he lost his job then his wife wanted out of the marriage, so he left his house to his wife and three children. The council would not help him because he made himself intentionally homeless. Then he got an infection in his left  leg and had to have it amputated. He  has spent the last six years homeless living in a car park in Reading. He is now hoping to be housed. Most people on the streets are vulnerable and may have  mental health issues just like me.

I did start a new life but the darkness that is within me is still there, waiting in the shadows for days like today.  Even though I have tried to make peace with my past I still have questions unanswered and they will always be that way but it does not ease the pain and darkness. As the day draws to a close the darkness lifts and the physical pain eases and I remember who hard I had to fight to be where I am today and that the fight will always be in my life. It will never be an easy life and I just have to continue to be strong not just for me but for my son. For without him I know I would be in the ground decaying and a distant memory.