This is my story, and also the story of my only sister's struggle with bipolar disorder. I am sharing it on here as a selfish need to vent but also in the hope that someone may read this and understand.
All good stories start at the beginning.
My sister and I were born into a Working Class Northern family in the late Sixties. Single mothers were frowned upon during this era and guess what, our Mum was one, and twice over !! Together we fought the stigma and took the name-calling on the chin. We were a team. She was a confidante and best friend, and the mild bullying was just part of her being a big sister....at this point anyway.
Time passed, we survived our teens and remained close, meeting regularly to drink copious amounts of cider and...just laugh really. A lot. I can't recall the exact time when I noticed her laughter was less frequent, her moods more withdrawn, and aggression was raising its ugly head.
Suddenly, I was no longer her beloved little sister but some kind of SheDevil who was trying to ruin her life. Then came the delusions, which were very real to her: Her family had been replaced by doubles, she had murdered people...and bizarrely she once stated that she had no fingers whilst holding them up for me to inspect.
Well you can tell where this is going...straight to our local mental hospital where I tearfully consented to her being sectioned whilst she screamed at me for betraying her. A few months later she was released, medicated and ( they said) cured. Not so.
Over the years, I have lost count of the number of times she has been sectioned. And not sectioned when she should have been. Her constant refrain of " Don't do this to me , I'm fine, it's you !!" rings in my ears.
I have a vivid memory of holding her bewildered 6month old baby in my arms as she was handcuffed for attacking a Health Professional, and bundled into a police car en route to the hospital.
She has hit me and spit on me, but the verbal abuse and accusations always caused me the most pain.
I have also held her when she sobbed in despair.
So here we are now, my sister and I. About a month ago she decided I was again a threat and has ceased all contact with me. My gut instinct screams out " Let me help you !! I will take anything you throw at me !! I have done it before!!"
But I don't know if I can. My soul is weary, and I'm afraid.
I hear she is having counselling and I hope it is enough. I have also heard that she has stopped taking her medication.
My heart breaks every day.
So how do you live with someone who lives with mental illness?
You just do.