There is a light, no matter what you think.

My mental health begun at the age of 8, kinda. That’s when I first recognised I was hearing thing’s that other people around me weren’t hearing, and I had the energy not even adults had. This begun to scare me, I didn’t know what to do with all the rapid thoughts racing around my mind and at 11 started to self harm, which I thought was the perfect way to deal with how I was feeling. It wasn’t, because still, at 21 I am self harming, to degrees where I require stitching and hospital treatment.

However, I’m 21 and I’m still here. I attempted suicide at the age of 13, and then 15, and then after 18 it became something I tried at least 2 times a week. My horizons were broadening, I was learning new things off the internet every day, and that’s when I was hospitalized after 3 police officers and my darling fiance jumped on a train line to try and save my life, which I didn’t think was worth living.

I was soon after diagnosed with Psychotic depression, Type II Bipolar, ADHD, and a load of other thing’s I can’t really explain. I was in hospital for 6 months before being discharged. There were a few short term admissions between now and then, which brings me on to my latest admission.

I’d seriously had enough, I was uncontrollable, some would say on self-destruct, and I was. My flat was a bloody mess (litterly) and it has been that way for about a week. I’d had about 17 stitches in my arm, and a number of teams out to see me – none of which thought I need psychiatric help.

That was it for me, I’d asked for help; and I didn’t get it, so I took an heroine overdose which landed me in resus, and ICU for almost a week. 6 Police officers and 4 paramedics smashed my door down, and I woke up on a hospital ward with 2 drips in, oxygen, and 2 officers by my bed.

I knew I had come close to death before, but not that close. I was petrified, and for once, was afraid to die. I had a mental health assessment act a few days later and was of course placed on a Section 3. I had an amazing family and fiance by my side who didn’t want to see me go, and no despite all my efforts to push them away – they just wouldn’t bugger off. I’m glad they didn’t though, because that would have been all the more reason to give up.

It’s now the 20th Aug 2015 and this is currently my longest stint out of hospital. I’m in the best shape mentally and physically that I’ve ever been. This isn’t through the services around me (although my CPN has a small part to play.) It’s will power. I haven’t cut since my discharge 5 months ago, and although times are hard sometimes, you know, I feel a manic episode coming on, or I feel extremely low, I turn away from the blade, and the reckless behavior because that just sent me round in circles.

I work with my illness, and it works with me. I know it will never go away, because it can’t. But day by day I get stronger, and it gets weaker.

I’m happy, and I’m content. I’m even planning a family, and a wedding. Never, ever loose hope.