As long as I can remember I have talked to people and creatures that weren't there for others. I thought it was normal. My mother was abusive, probably had mental issues of her own, addicted to valium and drink. She destroyed my self-esteem and turned me into someone whose only purpose was to look after others with no care for herself. It's far too long a tale, but suffice to say the day she dies, if I should hear about it, I will not only dance on her grave, but I will pray to all the gods that she ends up in the very worst kind of hell possible, and then throw a celebratory party to end all parties.
Moving on, through my teens I discovered my ability to lie my way through school. Home life meant I wasn't allowed to go out, to socialise at all, and I found ever more creative ways to lie about why I couldn't lead a normal teen life the way my friends did. I was pulled out of school so often to look after my mother, to answer the door to creditors mostly, that the truant officer eventually stopped bothering to chase me. I spent a lot of time stealing food from doorsteps and shops to feed us as she spent all available money on cigarettes and booze.
Age thirteen, shortly after she had handed me to her then boyfriend for the express purpose of relieving me of the onerous burden of my virginity, I had my first breakdown. She fed me valium, called a doctor - who prescribed rest and put it down to teen hormones - and everything carried on as usual. Aside from the fact that I had now learned from her that I could have a semblance of love if I gave guys what they wanted. And give it I did, in abundance and normally with men I didn't know, those I picked up when I was out stealing or walking to avoid being at home.
Over the ensuing years I have had a multitude of drug treatments and counselling sessions, none of which have ever helped. The drugs make me feel separated from the world and from myself, and counsellors only seem interested in the sexual incidents in my past... like I really need to be reminded of them and explain them repeatedly!
My symptoms are as numerous as the drugs. I have panic attacks, bouts of extreme paranoia, black pits of depression and highs of hysterical magnitude, am constantly on the verge of tears, inability to trust anyone, suicidal thoughts (which have come close to killing me a few times), occasional inability to differentiate between reality and fantasy, a penchant for making appalling choices when I am in a manic state, such as spending money and putting myself in debt, or sleeping with people for no reason than that I wanted to, no matter the possible dangers, extreme rages, racing thoughts and inability to find the words I need... Well, the list goes on as I am sure most of you are aware.
Coming up on menopause, I am well aware that my hormones are going to cause more havoc with my already beleaguered brain, and I am pretty much lost as to what to do and how to cope, and that is the reason I came here, hoping to find even one other person who is about to go through the same thing, or has already, and people who can offer some support.
I hasten to say, for all my problems, I am also extremely experienced in giving advice, support and help to others (which is silly as I can't give it to mysefl) and I am always available as a listening ear, without judgement. Chances are, I've been there and done that too!
So, that's a brief look at me
