About Me

What might you want to know about me that would explain the purpose of this particular blog? 

I am a 31 year old married stay-at-home-mother of 4 girls who deals with manic depression (or bipolar disorder) on a daily basis.  I was diagnosed at age 15.  Currently I’m not on medication for various reasons, some of which I have had no control over.  Today, the start of this blog, is a bad day.  I’m stuck at home by myself with the children (hubby is away on a hiking trip), and the monster that is manic depression is rearing its ugly head at me big time.  I’d been going back and forth with the idea of creating a blog simply for my depression, and since I’m in such bad shape with no one to talk to, I decided not only was it a good idea, but it might help me today.  What the hell… worth a try, right?

So… what else might you want to know?

I’m an American living in the UK.  I met my husband on the internet back in ’99, and he traveled from the UK to the USA to meet me; he married me and stayed with me for 4 years.  I thought it only fair that I do the same for him, so we packed up and moved over here in May 2003.  We just celebrated our 8th anniversary a week and a half ago.

My girls range in age from 12 down to 5.  They can be the best part of my day or the worst part of my day – it all depends on how they’re behaving at the moment.

My oldest girl is disabled.  She was diagnosed with epilepsy and PDD/autism at 18 months old.  Now she’s 12.  In a lot of ways, it’s like having a baby the size of a 12 year old.  She can’t do anything for herself, really.  She can walk and run, and she can grab food and stuff it in her mouth, but there isn’t much more she can do for herself.  She can’t speak.  She can’t use the toilet (she’s in specially made nappies).  She can’t wash herself.  She can’t feed herself properly (fork/spoon).  She can’t brush her teeth or her hair.  But… having said that… she is actually the easiest of my children to deal with.  Because we’ve lived so long with her disability, I don’t find the extra work that she requires any kind of burden at all.  I don’t get frustrated with her any more, because I understand the limits her disability puts on her.  And she is the happiest child I’ve ever known in my life.  She’s always smiling and laughing – she just can’t tell you what she’s laughing AT!!  And she seems to have psychic powers or something.  When somebody’s upset – even if you can’t really tell that they’re upset – she seems to just know and will shower that person with kisses and hugs.  And although she can’t speak, she understands at least 95% of what’s going on around her.  How do I know?  It’s all in her face.  She is very expressive, and most of it comes out in her face.

Anything else?

Let’s see….

I only have a high-school education (started motherhood a bit too early to allow me to go to college).  While I’m not working NOW, I have worked in the past.  I used to work for one of the largest insurance companies in the U.S.  Moving to the UK gave me the choice to stay at home, a choice I didn’t really have in the US.

I’m an abuse survivor, which I’m sure affects my depression.  I wouldn’t say that it’s the cause of it, but I definitely think it is a factor.  And – surprise, surprise! – I come from a very dysfunctional family.  I was raised by my paternal grandmother, who divorced my grandfather, who in turn remarried and adopted my younger sister… so my father is my brother and my sister is my aunt.

Yup, there’s a picture of our family under the word “dysfunctional” in the dictionary.

We – meaning our family – are affair survivors as well.  In 2004 my husband had an affair with a woman he described as “an old friend from college.”  It came as quite a shock – I knew things in our marriage weren’t right, but he gave me no indication that he was doing anything wrong.  He just went out one day, saying he was going into town, and didn’t come back.  Two days later he showed up and confessed everything to me.  Somehow we’ve gotten through it, but I have to be honest and say that I’m not over it.  I don’t know if I’ll ever be over it.

Now I realize this is more than most people put on their “about me” pages – but then again, I feel quite comfortable hiding in my anonymity; and as I said in the first sentence, I’m trying to explain the reasons for this blog.  If someone reading this didn’t know that I’m an abuse survivor, for example, they would wonder why I have some strange hang-ups regarding sex.  And if you didn’t know that we’ve survived an affair, you would wonder why I’m unsure about my husband and his feelings towards me.

TMI?  Maybe.  But *I* feel it necessary.


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