All posts tagged Depression

Would it surprise you at all that the outcome of the 2016 US Election was decided behind closed doors long before the sun began to rise this morning?

“How can something like that be achieved” and how “is that even possible?” are the questions that many people would be right to ask, and there is no simple answer that I have found to answer those questions, but there are many possibilities.

One of which can be explained (albeit very simply) using a single image:


From what I have personally experienced, and learned from the people I have talked to, both online and IRL, is that the 2016 US Presidential campaign is being conducted during the most devisive, confusing, dangerous, hate-filled, and poisonous atmosphere in living memory …. So much so that whatever the result, there is a very real possibility that not only a civil war, but a world war may ensue as a result.

Following a financial crash which will plunge America into a state of mass panic and chaos of course.

I suggest to you, that all those conditions may have been purposely engineered using the well-proven and very successful techniques employed whenever ‘Psychological Operations’ are implemented on a large scale.

You must already be aware that the media have been using terms like ‘Conspiracy Theory’ to describe what Republican candidate Donald Trump has based many of his speeches around, and I also suggest that Trump has given the ordinary person a glimpse, for the first time, of what has been really going on behind the scenes, and has been going on for many, many years.

“The Establishment will have made a horrible miscalculation if the election is stolen on Tuesday – the Republican Party is done, forever.” – Dr David Duke

Buckle up folks, and get prepared – it’s going to get very ugly from here on in.

This is a short update to some earlier published articles on this site, which examined in some depth, the still-ongoing mystery of the large number of suicides which have occurred in and around the town of Bridgend in South Wales.

At this time, the number of deaths that have occurred in and around Bridgend by way of suicide has exceeded 110, there has been a significant news blackout around these incidents and no reasonable explanation has been offered, either by the authorities, or by any number of the investigations that have been undertaken by professional or citizen journalists.

Everything from a Teenage suicide ‘cult‘ to possible ‘alien abductions‘ have been put forward at one time or another by a number of online sources, some of which are obviously more plausible than others, but none, as far as I am aware have managed to submit a definitive, or even satisfactory solution.

I am also aware that this, or any other published article may not shine a light upon what has really been happening in Bridgend since 2007, but it would be remiss if me if I did not publish what has been made available to me since the last article that was published here, which may be of significance.

Among those who have contacted this site over the last few weeks, were three people who do not live in South Wales, but have had cause to visit the town and subsequently experienced something which has, so far, defied (medical) explanation.

What they have claimed to have experienced, however, does corroborate something that a number of others have related to both my source and to myself directly, and is something which to my knowledge has not being reported upon by the mass media, nor has it been discussed online in any great detail.

The day after spending the day in the town, all of those who contacted me attended their local casualty units with what can only be described as: “The worst pain that they had ever experienced”. A pain which suddenly ‘exploded‘ through their heads, completely out of nowhere and had totally incapacitated them for around three minutes before disappearing completely.

These attacks continued at intervals throughout the day and by that evening all but one had no option but to present themselves at (separate) hospitals, unable to speak coherently until the pain had subsided to a point where they were able to be examined.

Following a number of hospital tests, and a follow-up examination at a neurological outpatients department, they were diagnosed as suffering from something known as ‘Trigeminal Neuralgia‘, or ‘Fothergill’s Disease‘.

TN, is a severe and chronic disorder which affects the cranial (Trigeminal) nerve which carries sensations from the face to the brain and controls facial motor functions like biting and chewing.

One distinguishing feature of Trigeminal Neuralga is that it has been described as being ‘one of the most painful conditions known to humankind’.

TN, is also known as The Suicide Disease …. because sufferers have been known to take their own lives during an attack in desperate attempts to relieve the pain.

It’s that bad apparently.

Of course, these events may be entirely coincidental and unconnected to the tragic events that have occurred in and around the town over the greater part of a decade, but should that automatically rule it out as a contributing factor?

The story will continue, I am in no doubt about that.

The news that Comedian Robin Williams has died, allegedly taking his own life, has brought about the only to be expected ‘Conspiracy Theories,’ involving numbers, significant dates, an illuminati human sacrifice, LSD dealing allegations and anything else that appears to be doing the Internet rounds at the present time.

I do not subscribe to any of these theories however.

Robin Williams was only one of thousands of people, many of whom are in, or were in the public eye who suffered from, or are living with Manic Depression, or Bipolar Disorder every day of their lives.

Bipolar is no respecter of wealth, intelligence, power, status, gender, ethnicity, personality or position, and until you have actually lived with it’s endless fluctuations, with it’s kaleidoscope of colours which have been likened to butterflies who fly with razor wings inside your mind, which exist alongside the ever-present spectre that is the desolate blackness and utter futility – you can never, ever, truly understand the nature of this particular beast.

And it can affect anyone, at any time.

It is often said that ‘genius walks hand-in-hand with madness’ and for those with bipolar, that is very often the case, as many of the most gifted, and most talented out there, are said to have, or have had the condition, and it is a notoriously thin line which separates the two.

Angelina Jolie
Catherine Zeta Jones
Amy Lee
Mel Gibson
Amy Winehouse
Richard Dreyfuss
Sinéad O’Connor
Stephen Fry
Jeremy Brett
Jim Carrey
Rosemary Clooney
Robert Downey Jr.
Patty Duke
Carrie Fisher
Connie Francis
Linda Hamilton
Margot Kidder
Vivien Leigh
Burgess Meredith
Spike Milligan
Ben Stiller
Tracy Ullman
Jean-Claude Van Damme
Robin Williams
Ludwig Von Beethoven
Tim Burton
Francis Ford Coppola
George Fredrick Handel
Vincent Van Gogh
Ted Turner
Buzz Aldrin
Larry Flynt
Ray Davies
Peter Gabriel
Jimi Hendrix
Charley Pride
Axl Rose
Del Shannon
Phil Spector
Sting, Gordon Sumner
Tom Waits
Brian Wilson
Sylvia Plath
Theodore Roosevelt
John Daly
Ilie Nastase
Patricia Cornwell
Graham Greene
Edgar Allen Poe
Mark Twain
Virginia Woolf

The very first article I published on this site, related my own attempt to put into words what it was like living with this condition, which can be found HERE, but I have also re-published it at the end of this article with some small changes which reflect my current status.

Some have described it as a brave thing to do, sharing what is quite obviously a very personal view of having a ‘Mental Illness’, although there are of course, those who have used it to attack and try and discredit and ridicule me via Social Media sites like Twitter for example.

I have little doubt that there are others who have been targeted in a similar manner.

Would they be so venomous and vocal in regard to any of the people on the list above I wonder?

I am still here of course, I have an extremely strong and at times, very protective support network, but others may not be so lucky.

THE DARK PLACE (Updated)….

“This is one of those subjects that most people will say has no place in their lives.

Maybe they are right, maybe not, but I do not really care, it is just my point of view.

I suffer from an condition which will affect me for the rest of my life, an ‘illness’ which is very much feared, ridiculed, and mostly misunderstood by the vast majority of the population.

I am Bipolar

My own journey into madness began when I was nineteen years old, the prime of my life.

In the great scheme of things, it could be so much worse; it can be treated – to a certain degree, and there are periods (sometimes months or even years) when there are no outward ill affects.

It’s not Leukaemia or Cancer or Alzheimer’s, or even HIV/Aids, all of which (and rightly so) gain public sympathy and research funding, whereas a ‘Mental’ illness, still conjures up images of half-human wrecks shuffling along the corridors of Victorian grey-walled asylums, and therefore people thus afflicted are to be avoided at all costs.

In it’s own way, Depression can be as debilitating as any number of physical diseases, and is of greater prevalence than many people realise.

One in every three people in this country will suffer from or know of someone with a mental illness at some time in their lives.

Misunderstanding walks hand-in-hand with ignorance – have you heard the people who say ‘I feel depressed today’, a comment which never fails to make me want to grab them by the throat and scream at them.

Severe depression is not waking up feeling a little miserable, everybody gets the ‘blues’, true depression is not wanting to wake up at all, and then waking up furious because you have woken up.

You do not want to get out of bed because there is no point, it’s a way of killing time as opposed to killing yourself.

Winston Churchill once described his depression as ‘A visit from the black dog’, Sophocles said ‘When a man has lost all happiness, he is not alive, call him a breathing corpse if you will’.

I myself call it ‘The Dark Place’.

It is existing as opposed to living, functioning on autopilot if you can function at all.

It’s living in chaos because you cannot see the chaos.

It’s been addicted to the euphoria of the mania that makes you feel invincible, almost superhuman in your words and actions.

But, you are also so totally alone, detached from everything, including yourself and your actions, forever at risk from sinking into utter desolation and despair, and that my friend is a very dangerous place to be.

Every meaningful relationship in my life has suffered as a result of my condition, I was always seen as being too ‘Too Much Trouble’ for most people to deal with.

I seemed to always end up in a lot of trouble, spending much of my teenage years and early adulthood in the Care and Prison System.

The odds are that everyone of you knows at least one person who has had a taste of the dark place, if you are lucky, you will also have got them back.

Manic Depression affects about 3% of the world’s population, usually the most gifted and talented members of society, and kills many thousands of people every year.

It is a ‘whole’ body illness, involving the body, your moods and thoughts. It affects the way you eat and sleep, the way you dress and the way that you feel about yourself and others.

It can stem from many things; stress, grief, personal trauma, or even more frustratingly, from nowhere at all (like my own condition).

Because depression is such a vague, undecipherable term, it is equally difficult to explain; it covers a variety of conditions and, until recently, the Medical profession were ill-equipped to deal with any kind of depressive illness.

As it is not a broken limb or a stomach or heart problem, the Doctors seemed unable or unwilling to deal with it.

This often has the result of totally inappropriate and excessive medication. Over the last three decades, I have been prescribed depressives, stimulants, sleeping pills, anti-psychotics, tricyclics, monamine oxidase inhibitors (MAOIs), Temazepam, Diazepam, Lithium and even Beta Blockers.

I have even been subjected to a short course of ECT (Electro Convulsive Therapy) which was deemed necessary at the time, and was a singularly unpleasant experience.

I have most recently, been blessed with a very capable female MH Consultant and CPN who have not only given me the first clear diagnosis of my condition, but have assisted me to the point where I am now ‘Flying Solo’ and completely free of any medication.

Which has had the effect that I have been stabilised, probably for the first time, to a fairly unique position where I feel that the benefits of awareness and self-treatment, using sheer bloody-mindedness and willpower, have finally freed me from the chains of the side-affects of any prescribed chemical medication.

The Chinese believe that in order to conquer a beast, you first have to make it beautiful.

Confronting the beast of depression in order to tame it is the first, and indeed, hardest step of all.

At first, the vast majority of prescribed treatments were of very little use – and even worse, were damaging my physical well-being.

Doctors have told me, ‘to pull myself together’, and to ‘work through it’, while at the same time, prescribing enough Diazepam to wipe out a small town.

For many years, I flatly refused to take the treatment that was on offer, preferring instead the ‘freedom’ of my illness as an alternative to the restrictions placed around me by the medication.

Many people will never admit to having any sort of depressive illness because of the stigma attached to anything even vaguely attached to madness.

There is after all, still an all too common misconception that mental illness equals madness.

I myself cheerfully admit (at least when I’m not there) that my manic episodes, make it seem to the casual observer like I’ve totally ‘lost it’, ‘going nuts’, or ‘going into one’.

A depressive illness is not a sign of physical weakness, nor is it a condition that can be simply wished away. Yet, in an ever moving, changing and competitive world, people are finding themselves under more stress than ever before, exacerbated by the inability to admit the truth of their condition.

I have never told my family about my Illness, they seem happy believing that I have been abusing drugs and/or alcohol for most of my adult life, and was at best ‘A Lost Cause’, the only person who really knew me, and therefore understood, was my father.

He was the only one who continually took me in when I was at my lowest, never questioning, and never judgmental. In fact, he was the only member of my family who even expressed an interest in my condition.

The world I have always chosen to live in, has in general, been far more accepting and indeed tolerant of ideas & behaviour which contradict and threaten public perceptions.

It is never easy to acknowledge that your friends and loved ones are in difficulty. All too often, it is easier to make a sometimes superhuman effort to not let the facáde slip, and to keep up the persona that the world sees.

It’s nearly always the case that the people who have the problems are the ones that that you never expect.

Unfortunately, living this way means that nobody can ever truly know the person behind the mask.

I have been truly alone most of my life, always too afraid to reveal the euphoric and beautifully colourful chaos that is one half of me, and the utter desolation and darkness that makes up the remainder.

What someone in trouble needs is understanding and support, and that kind of support is not easy to find or even to give.

During my last ‘vacation’ to the Dark Place, my then partner was terrified every time I left the house, half – expecting to never see me alive again.

That relationship, like many others, have been absolutely torn apart by my condition.

(Volatile and disturbingly dangerous relationships go hand-in-hand with the condition).

The knowledge that somebody can be there for you, can really make a difference. In a crazy sort of way, having Manic Depression has made me acutely aware how precious life really is when I get to stand in the light.

I have been there so often, and I have stood on the edge of the abyss many times, looked over into the darkness, and was able to take a step back, and each time I leave my Dark Place, I appreciate the light so much more.

So why, you may ask, do I have to go there anyway?

Simple answer? I do not know.

That is the nature of the beast I’m afraid, the very point of Depression is that there is no point, there are no answers and there appears to be no logic to any of it.

The bottom line is…. It happens.

End of story.

Living in the world I have chosen, having my children and the few people of my own choosing around me, has helped me get through the darker times, almost as much as any medication.

These things are vitally important to me, and are maybe, just maybe, important enough to prevent me from taking that final step and staying forever in the Dark Place.

Not everybody has that, and sadly, not everybody makes it through.”


The official number of deaths, between 2007 to the present (according to official figures) by way of suicide, in and around the small town of Bridgend, south Wales is 79.

However, local knowledge puts it at 98, but the true figure according to my source, currently stands nearer 110.

Among those numbers, only one is known to have left a ‘suicide’ note?

What is strange is that nearly all of them, were discovered hanging, with their feet touching the ground or on their knees.

You did not see that small, but important fact being reported in the mainstream media did you?

On the subject of facts, it’s another fact that you will struggle to find anything written at all about this ongoing ‘event.’

The local MP, Madeline Moon went as far as announcing that the media were ‘a part of the problem,’ which again, points towards a suppression of information being made available.

For instance, did you know that many of those who died were young women?

Ordinarily, females are known to take an overdose, or slash their wrists when attempting suicide.

Hanging oneself is an unusual practice by females, and hanging oneself while remaining kneeling is very unusual indeed, under any circumstances.

The last suicide by way of hanging, (not common knowledge) was of a 23-year old girl, from the Brynmenna area of Bridgend, in October 2013.

The deaths are still continuing, even though they are not being reported, make no mistake about that.


So why would a phenomenon believed to be a cluster of ‘Copycat Suicides’ commonly known as the ‘Werther Effect’, affect more than 100 people in such a localised geographical area?


Why also would this unusually high number of suicides, end their lives in such a similar manner?

At its height, the Bridgend Suicides were clustered closely together and believed to have radiated outward from a single “Patient Zero,” a high school student.

When his friends and classmates began to follow suit, it was a disturbing if not wholly unexplainable series of deaths.

However, when other Bridgenders, normally unconnected to such levels of contagious teenage despair, began to take their own lives in the same exact manner, the locals became understandably alarmed.

Reports of perfectly happy and contented individuals, many of whom were looking forward to future plans, suddenly began hanging themselves from trees, rafters, doorways etc…

And still no reasonable official explanation was being offered.

According to my source, who incidentally, was threatened with arrest and the confiscation of his mobile phone and computer if he continued asking questions, the South Wales Police are especially averse to any critisism or questions regarding this matter.

tetra radio

For a specific example, asking if there is any connections between the suicides and the TETRA emergency radio system, will bring you the kind of attention you would not believe.

The TETRA system, which is used by the police and emergency services in the UK for communication, uses between 380 and 400 MHz, which is switched on and off at such a pulse rate that a pseudo-ELF of 17.6 Hz (17.6 times per second) is produced.

This means the brain and nervous system are hit by pulses of UHF (USA terms) microwave (UK terms) every 1/17.6th of a second.

This has a similar effect as having electrochemical hammer blows to the head at a rate of 17.6 every second.

If you would find the sound of constant hammer drills irritating to listen to, try and imagine 17.6 hammer-like blows per second being delivered to the nervous and endocrinal system, at a cellular level.


What kind of effect could this have on the organism subjected to it?

Since human cells communicate to each other in the ELF range, these hammerlike blows of pseudo-ELF, disrupts and derange cellular activities, leading to dysfunction, behavioural changes and onset of carcinogenic proteins which can lead to the affected organism developing tumours.

The UK Government has been considering spending £2.5 million to fully implement a nation-wide deployment of this system.

The TETRA system pulses at 17.6 Hz, broadcast at 400 MHz, which is essentially identical to the ‘Pandora Project’, which was funded by the CIA in the late ’60s and early ’70s.


Dr Ross Adey, the chief researcher on the Pandora Project has released a video to leading UK researchers which proves that not only does the TETRA system cause ELF zombification by massive release of calcium ions in the cerebral cortex and the nervous system, but the activated calcium ions also cause massive hormonal disturbances which lead to frenzied imbalances, emotional and physical states.

This system will be used by all UK police and emergency services, as the Home Office has sold off all police frequencies, so they will have no choice than to to use the new system.

Will use of the TETRA system by the police, lead to psychotronicaly controlled officers who may be totally controlled in any situation?

That could prove useful for incidences of economic or social chaos, where extreme and violent behaviour is needed without any conscious or moral compunction I would think.

Would it also explain the often referred to ‘Robotic’ behaviour of those police officers involved in such situations?

30,000 transmitters will be placed around the country to maximise the effects on the local UK population – in essence, a not-so subtle form of mass mind control.

What other explanation would there be for anyone who has complained about these transmitters, to receive a letter from the Government informing them that:

“If the transmitters are not positioned where the Government wishes, there can be no guarantee of police protection, which will lead to higher insurance premiums for the affected householder.”

(I am trying to obtain one of those letters in order to confirm this)

A leading UK newspaper did try to run this story, but the item was ‘shelved’ allegedly.

“The history of mind control at a distance, remote mind control technology (RMCT) began in America with the research of Dr Ross Adey and his colleagues in the late ’60’s, working on the CIA-funded Pandora Project.”

Adey found that ELF (extremely low frequency) signals on the region of 1-20 Hz (with 0.1 increments having different effects), had bioactive and psychoactive effects. The research was important to the CIA for they wished to find frequencies which could mind control humans from a distance (RMCT).

Pandora researchers discovered that the 6-16 Hz region had drastic effects on brain and on nervous and endocrinal systems.

This could enable major dysfunction in the target victim if research on cats and monkeys could be duplicated – the research on human victims still remains classified”.







Everyday I click onto Twitter.

For the foreseeable future, it’s my only contact with the ‘real world’ that I have, apart from my dear caring partner and my son when he comes home from University.

Before I ‘found’ Twitter, the world outside, for 5 years had been lost to me.

My life had become a very lonely, desolate and bleak existence.

The last time I had spoken to another person was during a week in hospital and before that?

I couldn’t even remember, it had been so long.

I found myself asking ‘how did my life come to this’?

I used to have a life, a career with great potential, a fantastic social life and lots of people I was proud to call my friends.

So where had all this gone?

How did my life gradually fall away piece by piece leaving me alone, isolated and desperately scared of the kind of life I knew lay ahead of me?

18 years ago I was diagnosed with M.E.

I also have chronic and at times debilitating asthma, which means I have spent almost two decades of my life in and out of hospital.

It has never stopped me from living a full active life as much as is physically possible.

I knew that I was never going to climb Everest but I could live with that disappointment as I had never fancied myself as a mountaineer even when fully fit!

I was perfectly content to have a loving family, a fulfilling career, and an active social life.

In my spare time I worked in the art dept for our local AmDram club which my son belonged to. I loved doing this, it was something I was very proud to be part of.

Once I became ill however, all this started to change.

I no longer had the energy to keep doing all these things and as my health declined I had no choice but to give in, which of course meant losing all the things I loved, all the things that made me….. Me.

The only help and advice I got from my G.P. at that time was ‘I know nothing about M.E., I suggest you go to the library to look for some books for help and advice’.

Wow! I thought, this is fun!

So, I dutifully obtained 3 books, although at that time information on M.E. was only visible by it’s absence, it was still referred to as ‘Yuppie Flu’ for Petes sake!

Once I started reading though, I began to feel like I was not going mad anymore.

I was finally able to see that there was this strange illness, it was real, it did not exist only in my head and I had just been unlucky to have been affected by it.

Pacing yourself seemed to be the main message in the books, ‘learn your limitations and live within them’.

“How am I supposed to do that?” I asked myself.

I had a child that needed caring for, a full time job and a home to run, let alone things to do, places to go, people to see!

So I kept trying to keep it all together, “I’ll rest at the weekend” I told myself, but of course I didnt, and slowly but surely it all drifted away!

First to go were the extra curricular activities.

No more going out, I loved live music and was part of my local scene for years but that had to stop, I would count myself fortunate to be able to stay until the end of the night and then it dropped to being lucky if I could even move after tea time.

Friends who used to visit regularly gradually became less and less before eventually stopping completely.

The household chores started to suffer, it became a choice between helping my son with homework and put him to bed or do the hoovering, I saw to my son.

My partner had to do his share plus mine.

We have always been equal partners, working in unison to keep our little ship afloat but eventually I found myself falling through the door after a day at work and collapsing exhausted and in a great deal of pain.

In the end I was signed off sick.

I just couldnt do it anymore.

As soon as I thought things might be improving, I was knocked back down with yet another virus or chest infection, each time getting a little weaker and yet another piece of my life would be lost.

I had now become so ill and weak I was only getting out of bed once or twice a week.

I’d cram as much in to those day as I could before collapsing back into bed.

I had lost my job, it wasn’t fair to expect them to keep the vacancy open for me, they needed some one who could be relied upon to turn up everyday and not have to be rushed home during the day from being so weak and exhausted.

I couldn’t move fast enough, I wasn’t reliable enough, I had become a liability, it became a waste of a good job and a good wage.

At first I was so ill I really didnt care that I couldnt work.

I decided it wouldnt be so bad being a housewife.

I thought once I’d had enough time to recover properly, I’d get well and all would be fine again.

But that didnt happen.

I tried everything I could to aid my recovery, from acupuncture to yoga, antidepressants and counselling, exercise programs and even reflexology at one stage.

You name it I tried it, I was desperate to find anything that would help me recover but all I did was get steadily worse, until I had to admit defeat and accept my life was never going to be what it once was.

It has taken me many years to come to terms with my life being as it is now.

It has taken five years of being totally bedridden apart from struggling to the loo and back that is, to finally come to terms that this might be how my life is now, maybe for the rest of my life.

Its a hard and bitter pill to swallow but I had to make myself accept it or I would become lost forever in a black pit of howling depression.

On top of all this we now have the government cutting the benefits we depend on in order to simply survive.

My partner has had to stop work to become my full time carer but has since developed his own health issues.

He has just had to fill in his second ESA50 in twelve months, no doubt his WCA appointment will arrive through the letter box any day now, its difficult to fully explain the fear of a brown envelope coming through the letterbox, but anyone who has experience of this will know exactly what I mean!

We have the added worry of him being fairly assessed or will it be the soul-destroying and spirit-crushing cycle of appeals yet again.

My ESA50 could arrive anytime also.

Last year I was put straight into the support group but constantly live in fear of not being so ‘lucky’ this time.

‘Lucky’ to even be in the support group that is!

To be assessed as so sick and disabled that I have been placed among the lowest % group of people on benefits, who are deemed to be so sick and disabled, I’m not expected to have to find work.

But for how long will I be classed as too sick to work?

Especially when people with terminal cancer are being treated as fit and expected to work for their benefits.

Maybe next time I’ll miss out a piece of important evidence on my form or just get one of those assessors who find everyone fit to work.

How will I cope then?

I’ve only been able to leave the house once voluntarily in the last 5 years, how will I be able to manage if I have to appeal any decisions?

We will already be affected by the new bedroom tax now my son has gone to University, plus we have to pay £300 council tax from our benefits.

We may even lose the roof above our heads.

They haven’t come for my DLA yet, I get the lowest care componant so I will be in the Governments target group for re-testing as soon as PIP is introduced.

Chances are, it will be taken away rather than increased (im just not that lucky).

We get no help from Social Services, nor any other support groups.

I get no support from my GP, he gave up trying to help a long time ago, its just the two of us struggling to get by.

Our savings are long gone.

We dont have SKY TV or a big flat screen television or even full internet access.

We no longer run a car, or buy new clothes or even have cupboards full of food.

We barely scrape by, yet the government want to take more away to give us an ‘incentive’ to get us back in to work and not be left on the scrapheap as Government Ministers are keen to remind us.

They could shock me with a cattle prod but it won’t change the fact I am simply just too sick and weak to work.

But I am on the scrap heap however, I am unemployable, (if there were any jobs available) so now it seems in the eyes of the government not only am I unemployable, but a scrounging scumbag as well.

I have no job so I am nothing, a non-person, because without a job you are viewed as something less than human.

You have no identity, no worth, no value, just a leech on society, made to feel guilty for taking from the same pot you had willingly contributed to for many years.

It feels I’m one step away from being classed as a criminal for being so ill I cannot work.

IDS, Osborne, Miller, Cameron, Clegg and Miliband all talk of getting people off benefits and supported in to work, giving people hope and a future.

All great sentiments but where does that leave people like me?

I would give anything to have my old life back, Id love to be able to go to work again, but that is just not a realistic option for me.

What about my future?

Do I not deserve one?

It may not be of any worth to a politician but I have a son and a partner who value me, friends who care about my welfare and who’s lives I feel I am an important part of.

Can you Mr Cameron, can you Mr Miliband understand how humiliating it is to have to beg for every penny I can just to make ends meet?

To hear you repeatedly say I have no value, how am I expected to keep fighting when you want to make it even harder for me?

For those who wish to critisise I challenge them to live a month in my shoes.

Or a week if that proves too difficult.

I read this earlier today. An small insight into the world of a kindred spirit… I hope she will not mind.

Musings of a Bipolar Unchained Soul

When Bipolar Strikes Your Insides Like Lightning…

It is crippling to the soul. It envelops you like a disease. Is it just depression? What happens when you can’t get up. When it consumes your whole mood and it reaches down into your underbelly and it takes you in with it. That’s what happened to me. This bipolar. What are you? Is it just winter?

Some people say its the winter blues and it is just January that is doing this. But 2013 in general has been so hard for me. It is a struggle to get out of bed. I lied to my boss this morning. He may fire me. I may lose my job. And you know what, I don’t even care. I don’t want to try. Oh bipolar, you are a demon. This imbalance is stifling.

Do you ever feel like you don’t even want to try? This sea of emotion. Like a rollercoaster. I can’t even get my bearings till like 1pm. It really takes almost 5 hours to wake up properly? This is not normal. It’s just plain fucked up.

We are the Forsaken.

We are the Bipolar…….