Glider/Female/42

Depression had its beginning for me when I was about twelve years old. I wasn't sleeping and I was quite distressed so my parents took me along to a psychiatrist. He expected that my distress would be related to discovering boys and pre-puberty hormonal issues, but instead I was worried about the state of the world. I was writing poetry about the ills of society and how I felt that I didn't fit in. In fact, I felt that I didn't fit in all through my primary school years and it wasn't until the third year of high school that I found a "best friend".

I was overprotected during my childhood, particularly by my mother, but I had a very loving family who gave me everything you could expect from parenting. We had beach houses when I was growing up, so holidays and weekends were spent here and I have many happy memories of times on the beach, surfing, collecting shells and oysters from the rocks.

A mood disorder was beginning to take effect in my last year of high school, although it wasn't until I had left school and home and gone to live in Brisbane that I experienced my first taste of hypomania. I was living a fairly bohemian life in share houses in the West End and I enrolled in psychology at Queensland Uni. There was a boyfriend of sorts, although I was always too scared of sex. I was overconfident and clashed with some people. When I started to come down I contacted my parents and my father drove up to Brisbane and rescued me. I returned home and crashed into depression. My confidence evaporated and I spent all my time with Mum. If I saw someone that I knew up at the local shops, I would try to hide. I remember volunteering at the local op shop, as I am doing again now, and being so withdrawn and painfully shy I could barely speak to anyone. I started taking lithium and was diagnosed manic depressive.

I started coming out of the depression when I volunteered at 2MBS-FM, one of the first community radio stations. I made friends, picked up another boyfriend (but still no sex please, we're too scared and too hung up on our Christian values!) and learned many new skills including on air presentation and audio production.

My family started to worry about me, but I avoided capture by going to Nimbin, a small town in northern NSW known for being the hippie capital of Australia. I loved Nimbin, it was so relaxed and the scenery was breathtaking. I met the father of my first child in the Nimbin pub. He was a fun person and I was a bit attracted to him. I didn't have much in the way of feelings for others, so I just dumped the other guy, Dave and took up with Paul instead. I just gradually came down from my high and never needed drugs or hospital.

So, lets just fast forward ten years. I am in Nambour hospital, Sunshine Coast Queensland. The only way to get me there was to call the local cop and transport me screaming and hammering on the glass in the back of a paddy wagon. I am put into a tiny, bare room with just a thin mattress on the floor in the corner. The nurse leaves, locking the door and I see a hand wave at the small window in the door. I think, this is it ? my worst nightmare. I believe I will never escape from here and never see anyone again. I am terrified.

I have just experienced my first psychotic episode. Paul and I have been separated for four years, I have a six year old daughter Amy and Paul has stopped drinking in his second attempt since I have known him to beat his alcoholism. I had been out of control for about a week and the last few days in and out of consciousness, smashing plates, tearing up books and not sleeping.

Now I'm taking Luvox, as it is supposed to help with anxiety. My anxiety is now just as severe as my depression. Mentally I don't get much of a break, my mind seems to be in fairly constant torment. A few weeks ago I actually felt like I was getting better and could see some hope, but that has evaporated and now I am finding it difficult to locate any hope of feeling better in the future. This makes no logical sense as I have lots of friends who support me, I have Paul and Amy, I have my own little house on a beautiful five acres of land and I have a landscaping business which I could go back to if I could manage it, plus freelance writing work. I know that there is so much to live for, but nothing makes a difference. I have some happy times, like my recent birthday party, where I had a dinner party for 9 adults and 6 children.

I would love to publish a book and have already written over 20,000 words of a journal. If there are any publishers out there who are interested, please contact me via this website. At the moment I am writing a detailed account of my psychotic episodes as I don't believe there is much material like this available.

- January 2002