Category: Daily Life

Daily Life, Depression, Despair, Fear, Uncategorized

6 ways to keep your mood stable during the COVID-19 pandemic

mariskameldrum

“… for those who’ve found themselves out of work, house bound or trying to home school kids, the lack of structure can really influence your mood.”

mariska, bipolar mums founder

I don’t think there’s many of us who haven’t been affected in some way by the Covid-19 pandemic.  With many people are struggling with stress and anxiety, it’s more important than ever that we take care of ourselves and each other.

Here’s six things you might find helpful in ensuring your mood doesn’t plummet during this time:

1. Remain in contact with your mental health providers

If you’re struggling, please reach out to your support people.  Don’t leave it until your depression is so bad you can’t get out of bed, or your mania is escalating out of control. If you can’t visit in person, most doctors, psychologists and psychiatrists are providing telehealth appointments. This isn’t a good time to choose to go it alone.

2. Try to ensure you have an adequate supply of medication

Now is a good time to check that you’ve got enough medication, or an up-to-date prescription.  I found myself caught out at the pharmacy with a prescription that was just past its use-by-date and had to wait a week for a new one.  Most mood stabilisers or anti-psychotics shouldn’t be stopped abruptly, so it’s important to have enough.

3. Maintain regular structure within your daily routine

The Covid-19 pandemic has had a huge impact on most people’s daily routines. I am now working from home and cannot go out except to grocery shop or exercise (within a 5km radius) or get medical help. 

If you’re working from home, it’s a little easier to maintain structure, with zoom meetings and deadlines.  But for those who’ve found themselves out of work, or trying to home school kids, the lack of structure can really influence your mood.

It can help to break up the day into ‘chunks’ – for work, exercising, talking with friends, housework, craft, reading etc.  I find having some structure to the day helpful for both me and my kids. Knowing we all have to be up, fed, dressed and ready for the day by 9am helps to stop that one-off PJ day lasting all week…

Photo by Burst on Pexels.com

4. Get enough sleep

We all probably know that healthy sleep habits are an important way of managing our mental health, but how many of us actually take this advice?  I know I’m guilty of staying up too late!

During this pandemic, not having the deadline of making your morning train to work, or getting the kids to school (if you’re in an area where schools have closed) can make it tempting to stay up later watching Netflix and sleep in. 

But research does show that setting a regular time to go to bed and wake up is especially helpful for people with bipolar disorder. 

5.  Don’t set high expectations for yourself

While it’s fun to take up a project or set yourself a goal to learn something new, don’t be too hard on yourself.  It’s ok just to ensure you and your family survive this difficult period. 

If you do take up a new project – don’t do it at full speed until you collapse in exhaustion. The idea is to have fun while you do it!

6. Focus on what you can control, not on what you can’t

It’s easy to focus on what we can’t control – which can contribute to feelings of anxiety. I find it helpful to instead focus on the things I can control – like being able to choose when an how I exercise, what meals our family eats or what leisure activities I do. This short video on dealing with loss of control during the pandemic may be helpful to watch.

Daily Life, Depression, Despair, Hope, Motherhood, Uncategorized

Your life matters

mariskameldrum

For anyone who is struggling with depression at the moment, keep this one thought in your mind: Your life matters. No matter what thoughts are crowding into your mind, please speak back at them that your family does need you and their lives would not be better without you.

If you’ve ever had thoughts that your family doesn’t need you, or would be better off without you, picture yourself being away overseas. Imagine how eager your children would be to talk to you. Imagine how excited they would be to see you when you arrive home. For a child, nothing can take the place of a mother.

Working for an international aid organisation, I often travel to developing countries twice a year. Thankfully, with Skype and Whats App I can see and talk to my kids, even from a rural village in Nepal.

Being away from them for so long, people ask me how they’re coping. I’ve got an incredibly supportive and capable husband and so the answer is usually just fine. Truth be told, without me there my children continue to live their lives. They’re busy with school, soccer, church… and the days fly bye.

But even though they’re physically ok – they still miss me and look forward to me coming home. Although others can meet their needs, they need their mum. Just like I need my mum.

Ignore the lie in your mind that they would be fine – maybe even better off – without you. If it helps, scream “get out of my head you horrible lies!”

Nothing can take the place of you. You are unique. One of a kind.

Do whatever you can to get help when you need it. You and your children need each other.

Daily Life, Uncategorized

Put the coffee down, and walk away…

mariskameldrum

I live in the coffee capital of Australia… maybe even of the world.  We have more coffee shops in Melbourne than in any other state – and our Baristas are  known for their world class coffee.

I still find it amazing that up until the age of 32, I’d never tasted coffee.  By that I mean real coffee. I had tried a sip of Mum’s cheap instant coffee when I was 17 – and promptly spit it out into the sink.

Since my first taste of real coffee, I’ve slowly become hooked on my “morning cuppa”.

I’ve mentioned before that I’m not a morning person.  It’s not helped by the medication I take each night which leaves me a bit groggy.  But my morning cuppa clears my head and leaves me ready to face the day.

Lately, I’ve been noticing my morning cuppa being followed by a midday coffee and sometimes even a sneaky afternoon coffee.  Add to that a few more cups of black tea and soon my stress hormone, called cortisol, is surging.

So what’s the problem with coffee causing raised cortisol levels?  And is this something we should be concerned as women with Bipolar?

A quick scan of the internet tells me that raised cortisol levels can not only leave you feeling anxious, fearful and angry – they can also lead to feelings of depression, lower your immune systems and increase fat in the stomach area.

Now, I’m not someone who should be lecturing on health issues, but none of these things sound appealing.  Goodness knows I spend enough time dealing with anxiety and depression.  The last thing I need is to be adding to the problem with my new love affair with coffee.

Earlier this week, I convinced myself to at least check out the herbal teas in the supermarket, telling myself they were just as satisfying as a freshly brewed coffee.  I was staggered to find dozens of different herbal teas.

As I write, I have my fingers wrapped around a steaming cup of lemon and ginger tea.  No caffeine.  No worry about insomnia or surging cortisol levels.  A truly guilt free cuppa.

I don’t think I can give up my beloved morning coffee. Or a cup of milky tea in the afternoon.  But that’s it.  The rest have to go.  And with it, all those side effects that make life as a Bipolar Mum even more difficult.

Do you find coffee gives you any side-effects?  Or are you one of those people who can drink copious amounts and still sleep like a log?  Leave your comments below.

Daily Life, Friendship, Hope, Motivation, Uncategorized

I know exercise is good for your mood… I just don’t wanna do it!

mariskameldrum

I’ve got something to admit.  I’ve read countless articles that talk about the benefit of exercising for people with mood disorders.  I’ve listened as researchers promote exercise as a way of relieving stress and lifting your mood.

And still… I don’t do it.

Every morning, I open one eye as my husband gets up to train for an adventure race he’s doing in Thailand this month.

And then I pull the covers closer around me and snooze until I’ve got half and hour left before I need to have school lunches made, bags packed and be driving out of the driveway for school drop off.  An hour later, I sit down at work, inhaling a cup of coffee to give me the boost I need to start my day.

Needless to say, I’m not a morning exercise type of person.

Problem is that I’m not an evening exercise type of person either.  By the time my husband and I have our three kids fed and in bed, the last thing I feel like doing is pulling on my active wear and heading out in the cold to the gym.

I could hit the treadmill collecting dust in my garage, but problem is, I’m not an exercising alone type of person.  I prefer to exercise while catching up with friends. Only problem is that we usually skip the exercise and just catch up over a cup of tea.

So this leave me in a dilemma.

If I want to be serious about my mental health, I know that I need to prioritise some form of exercise.  But it needs to be something that I can commit to without it seeming like a chore that I’d do anything to avoid.

I was dwelling on this in recent weeks when a newspaper article caught my eye, extolling the benefits of “tree walking”.  Apparently, benefits of a long walk compound when you add trees to the equation.  Being among nature, with trees around you, is now scientifically proven to boost your mood significantly.

Which brings me to my new resolution.

I am going to commit to going on a walk among trees every week – rain, hail or shine. And I’m going to find a friend who wants to come with me. Lucky for me I happen to live at the base of a mountain range, with lots of trails to choose from.

So now, I just need to get off the couch and up that mountain!

Mariska xx

Do you use exercise as a way to boost your mood or reduce stress?  I’d love to hear what you do or if you struggle with finding the motivation to exercise.

Daily Life, Depression, Despair, Motherhood, Uncategorized

Longing for a “sick day”

mariskameldrum

With an impending restructure at work, my days have been a bit more stress-filled than usual.  My team of six has been reduced for now to a team of three – and we’re doing our best to keep things going despite the sense of doom and gloom about the place.

In the midst of all this turmoil, staff have been dropping like flies… with record numbers of sick days.  As for me, who rarely gets sick enough to justify a day off work, I’ve been day-dreaming about taking a “sick day” to just, well… decompress.

Sick Day
Spending a day battling the flu wasn’t quite the “sick day” I’d been hoping for.

In my mind, I imagined I’d time my “sick day” for when the kids were at school/kinder so that I could sleep in ’till 10am and then go out for a brunch with my husband (who is currently studying at home).

I then planned to dig out one of my craft projects – which have been ignored for the past 2.5 years since I went back to full-time work.  And I’d end the day by picking up my kids (who would be surprised to see Mum rather than Dad waiting outside their classroom) and then welcoming them home to home-cooked cookies.

My work has an official name for days like this.  I know it’s “technically” fine to take a mental health day, but I don’t know about you – I still struggle with the idea of taking a day off when I don’t physically appear sick.

Go to work with a hacking cough or a dripping nose and people encourage you to go home and rest up.  But arrive at work crippled with anxiety, depression or stress and no-one is any the wiser.  It’s easier to hide feelings of despair, depression and hopelessness than a fever.  I worked through months of acute depression – and no-one at work noticed, until I made a point of telling them about the struggle I was having.

Not that I advocate hiding your mental illness from your employer.  I have let my manager know about my condition – and I’d like to think my employees feel comfortable enough to share with me.  Yet, I’m well aware that just telling your staff that they’re  technically allowed to take time off to deal with mental health issues doesn’t make it easy to actually do it.  We need senior staff to model that it’s actually ok.

Today, I finally got my sick day.

Only problem was, it really was a sick day.  And it struck on a Saturday morning.  Sure I got to spend the morning in bed…. but that was where I stayed for most of the weekend. And as for a leisurely lunch with my husband – well let’s just say that I wasn’t feeling up for any kind of date.  Instead of feeling free to enjoy a Monday off work… I found myself dealing with 1000’s of tissues and an aching body that didn’t want to do anything but lie down.

Moaning that “this isn’t what a sick day is meant to be like…” my husband kindly pointed out what I was after wasn’t a “sick day” but a “sickie”.  Hmm… I’d better be careful what I wish for next time.

Mariska xx

 

Daily Life, Depression, Fear, Motivation

3 lessons psych wards have learnt in the past decade

mariskameldrum

Psyciatric wards have come a long way in the last 50 years. But what's changed in the last decade?
Psyciatric wards have come a long way in the last 50 years. But what’s changed in the last decade?
Eight weeks ago, I did something that I swore I would never do.  I walked back through the doors of the public hospital psychiatric ward where I spent some of the worst weeks of my life, after the birth of my first baby eight years ago.

This time, I hadn’t arrived in the back of a police divvy van.  I wasn’t disoriented or confused about why I was there. My mind wasn’t racing or tricking me with delusions. And I wasn’t greeted by emergency room staff who held me down and injected me with who-knows-what.

So why was I there?

Well, it started a few weeks beforehand, when I was out walking with a group of women.  When I found out that one of the women was a nurse in the psychiatric ward where I had been a patient, I shared my story with her.

After mentioning  how shocked I was at the conditions in the ward when I was there, she invited me to come and see the changes that had taken place at the pysch ward since then.

So I summoned up all my courage, and I returned.  And here’s three ways I found this psych ward had changed in the past 8 years

  1. It’s finally hitting home: staff can make or break a psych ward

One of the biggest changes I noticed straight away in the psych ward was the staff – and their attitude towards the patients.  Eight years ago, the horrific conditions meant the hospital I was in couldn’t attract or retain staff.  They filled the gaps with temporary agency nursing staff and “carers”.

This may work in a regular hospital ward, but when you’re mentally unwell, having dedicated, committed staff  is critical.  Seeing regular faces  – rather than a steady stream of agency staff – also helps us as patients to trust our carers. When you’re struggling with psychosis, depression, suicidal thoughts or delusions, a kind word or a gentle touch from nursing staff goes a long way.    Patients deserve experienced staff who are committed to their patients and the reputation of the ward they work in.

2.  It’s more than just medical help: the right atmosphere in a ward is integral

Less than two months after I left the ward eight years ago, it was demolished.  To be honest, I’m not surprised.  It was a dark, dingy place – with cramped conditions, unsuitable living areas and a small concrete courtyard where patients could walk in circles for exercise.

Entering the new purpose-built building, I immediately noticed the big picture windows, fresh colorful paint, friendly atmosphere and artwork on the walls.  The head nurse proudly showed me the art-therapy room, family visit room (with direct street entrance so kids didn’t need to walk through the ward to get there) and an outdoor eating and sports area.   There was even a dark room with bean bags, rocking chairs, weighted blankets, soft music, projected light patterns and musical instruments  – a place where people struggling with mania could go to calm or soothe themselves.

I know it’s only superficial stuff.  But sometimes, the way a place looks, smells and even feels can have such an impact on the way patients feel about being there.

3. Our voices have been heard: patients must be kept safe from harm by other patients

I’ve left the best change for last.  The biggest change that I could see was that, while they shared the dining room and common areas, men and women had separate sleeping areas.  Upon admission, female patients receive an electronic bracelet that gives them access to the female-only sleeping quarters and a small lounge room that they can retreat to if they feel unsafe.  The ward was also built with two wing that could be used as required:  one for regular mentally unwell people and the other for those displaying violent or predatory behaviour.

THIS IS INCREDIBLE, AMAZING STUFF!

I guess you’re sensing my excitement.  Well, in my mind this is a game-changer.

In this ward in the past – and most likely in many others around the world –  vulnerable, unwell female patients (and in some cases male)  have been attacked or raped by other patients.  You can’t compare a psych ward to other hospital wards – where patients are there because they are physically unwell.  Genders sharing sleeping quarters in situations where people are psychotic, delusional and not “in their right mind” – and not giving women a safe space – is a recipe for disaster.

I was reassured to see that the safety of women in this psych ward at least, is now top-of-mind for staff.  And in the case that I’m every a patient there again, I’d be very pleased to know that  staff now have the ability to separate out patients known for their violence or predatory behavior.

Have these changes been made in every psychiatric ward?

While I’d love to believe they had, I doubt it.  Less than 50 years ago conditions in psychiatric wards – or mental asylums as they were called – were barbaric.  Change has come, but lack of funds or political will means that it is slower in some places than others.

As people who know what it’s like to be mentally unwell and vulnerable, we need to band together and keep asking for change.   Without our voices, speaking up about the conditions in these wards and insisting that changes are made, others like us will continue to suffer.

Mariska xxx

Have you noticed any changes or improvements in psychiatric wards over the past decade?

 

 

Anger, Daily Life, Fear, Forgiveness, Hope, Motherhood

What watching ET taught me about fear

mariskameldrum

Tonight I decided to introduce my kids to a movie classic – ET.  I had vague memories of a very cute Drew Barrymore playing with the Extra Terrestrial and thought my space-Leggo mad kids would love the movie too.

Less than 10 minutes into the movie, all three kids were hiding under the quilt… terrified by the sight of the weird, bald little alien.  I kept reassuring them it would get better, but when ET seemingly died 45 minutes later and all three kids had tears rolling down their faces, I was kicking myself for my choice of movie.

ET Movie
Who knew the lessons ET can teach?

At the end, my eight year old turned off the TV, turned to me and said: “Mum, you’re banned from making us watch any more movie ‘classics’ made before 2007! I’m never watching that movie ever ever again!”

His strong words reminded me of some I’d spoken myself eight years ago after his birth, when I had gone through an awful experience in a public hospital’s psychiatric ward.  I swore never to go back to that place – and for a long time I couldn’t even drive past it without feeling physically sick.

And yet, things change. Things that seem scary somehow suddenly no longer hold the same fear.  As the years tick by, the anger and fear are still there – but somehow less vivid.  And the bitterness begins to fade.

Two days ago, I walked back through the doors of that psychiatric ward.  This time, I didn’t arrive in the back of a police divvy van.  I wasn’t held down by police and injected with tranquilizers.  I wasn’t leaving behind my precious week-old baby. And I wasn’t declared mentally insane and kept behind locked doors.

This time, I drove to the hospital on my lunch-break and walked through the front doors by choice.  I put one foot in front of the of the other until I arrived at the reception desk.  I took a few deep breaths, smoothed down my jacket and tried to look as sane as possible as I asked for the Head of Nursing, who had promised to take me on a tour.

My husband couldn’t quite understand why I went back.  He said nothing could force him back there.  And I understood why.

The best way I can explain my need to go back there is that I wanted to face the thing that frightened me most.  I’m not a brave person normally (to be honest I found some scenes in ET a little scary myself).  But I wanted to see if visiting that psychiatric ward all these years later would help me see things differently.

As a mum, I help my kids to face their fears.  I talk them through it… trying to show them that what they’re most scared of (in this case, being attacked by a alien on the TV) is actually not all that scary.

I thought it was time to listen to my own mum-advice for once.

Mariska xx

Stay tuned for my next post – seeing if psychiatric wards have changed in the past eight years.

 

 

 

Anger, Daily Life, Fear, Forgiveness, Hope

Am I brave enough to face the past?

mariskameldrum

I’ve never thought of myself as brave person.  I’m the type  who ducks and covers my face when someone throws me a football (or a set of keys).  I’m not fond of putting myself in dangerous situations… you’ll never find me posting a photo on Facebook of myself sky-diving and I shudder at the thought of getting surprise hot-air balloon ride tickets for my birthday.

I’m all for exploring new countries – but my idea of a fun holiday does not include bungee jumping, white-water rafting or eating snails, scorpians or other unidentified objects.

But something’s happened this week that has made me muster up all my bravery.

I’ve spoken before about the most horrific time of my life… being taken from my home in a police divvy-van eight days after the birth of my first baby and being locked up in the high-dependency unit of Maroondah Hospital’s psychiatric ward .

Many of you reading this will have endured similar things: the mistreatment at the hands of “carers”, the scariness of being in a mixed ward with mentally unstable men, the loneliness… desperately trying to get people to understand you, but being met with looks of fear or annoyance.

Which is why when the Head of Nursing at Maroondah’s psychiatric ward invited me this week to meet her in a fortnight for a tour of their new facilities, I found myself feeling the opposite of brave.

When I asked my ever-supportive husband if he’d come with me, he flatly refused.  I can’t say I blame him.  Instead of enjoying the first six weeks of our first baby’s life, we both endured a type of hell-on-earth which we wouldn’t wish on anyone.

While his wife was declared insane and committed to a locked ward, my husband juggled his shock of what had happened with the needs of a tiny newborn.  While most new mums struggle to get out of the house at all, my husband bundled up our baby son and brought him into a psych ward so I could have 30 precious minutes cuddling him.

When I finally came home, we were both so traumatised that we couldn’t stand to hear what the other had been through.  It took six months of counselling to finally accept what had happened and move on.  Still, for the past 8 years, my stomach has still felt sick whenever I’ve driven past the building where the psych ward is located.

So, why would I even consider going back?

Because I’ve now realised that unforgiveness and bitterness was only hurting one person… me.  I’ve made a conscious decision to forgive the staff in that ward for the way they treated me.

And to be honest, I’m also a tad curious.  The head nurse told me that things have improved “out of sight” since I was a patient there.  The ward now has a separate mood-disorders wing for women.  And she gushed in her email about the array of activities that patients can now take part in.

Part of me is skeptical that things have improved.  But I need to know that they have – because I couldn’t live with myself if others are still living in the hell-hole that I escaped.  When I left that ward, I promised to be the voice for those who couldn’t speak up for themselves.

And so, in two weeks, I’ll walk alone into the building that is the place where I lived through the most horrible moments of my life.  I’ll put one foot in front of the other – and I’ll smile and be courteous to the staff.  But I won’t be looking at the fancy new ward or plethora of activities to see if things have improved.  I’ll look into the eyes of the patients.

Mariska xx

Have you ever had to be brave – to face something or someone in your past?  Has the experience made you stronger?  Any tips for how to muster up bravery in situations like this?

Daily Life

Behind this Bipolar Mum is two awesome fathers

mariskameldrum

Today Australians are celebrating Father’s Day.  Dads across the country are being woken up by tiny hands thrusting a plate of eggs and bacon under their nose.  And millions of men are re-stocking their drawers with new socks and underwear.

I have two reasons to celebrate Father’s Day: my husband (a Dad to our three munchkins) and my Dad.  Both are shining examples of everything that fathers ought to be:  patient, loving, caring, encouraging and Godly role-models to their children.

Growing up, our family of four kids never doubted our father’s love.  As a pastor, he worked from his home office – so he was there to make our school lunches, drive us to school and hear about our day when we returned.  I remember lots of walks up to the local shops together in my teenage years – with him offering his fatherly wisdom.

It wasn’t until I was older – and my best friend’s parents divorced, that I realised how blessed I was.  That not everyone had a Dad like mine – who actually wanted to spend time with his kids.

Now days, as an adult, lots of people tell me that my dad and I are similar in many ways:  we both love homemade pizza, have a flair for writing, enjoy speaking in public, and have a tendency to stretch the truth ever-so-slightly to make a better story.  I’m also told that I’m most like his side of the family in looks.

There’s something else that I inherited from Dad’s side of the family: a genetic predisposition for mental illness.  While it skipped Dad, I discovered at the age of 18 that I had more than his family’s olive skin.  Its never occurred to me to blame Dad or his family for this… or to curse my genes… it’s just the way I was created.

As a parent myself now, it does sometimes worry me that I might pass this legacy of mental illness onto my own children.  It’s the reason why I’m the ambassador of a mental health research project. I’d love to see Bipolar Disorder and other mental illnesses “cured” by the time my kids become teenagers.   But if it’s not (and with my oldest heading towards nine years old, the countdown is truly on) – it will be ok.

When I recently asked my psychiatrist what would happen if one of my children inherited Bipolar Disorder, she told me that they would be lucky.  Not lucky to have Bipolar (I wouldn’t wish that on anyone) but lucky to have a mother who had lived with the illness – and was able to show them that it’s possible to still live life in all its fullness.

Mariska xx

Do you have a father or father-figure who has meant a lot to you?  Would love to hear about how they have influenced you and your life.

Anger, Daily Life, Despair, Friendship, Hope

What a cup of tea taught me about bitterness

mariskameldrum

I have to admit it – I love a nice hot cup of tea.  There’s something about being forced to stand quietly, waiting for the kettle to boil that seems to calm my spirit.  And don’t get me started on the lovely feeling of a warm cuppa nestled in my hands.

When I have time – and have someone to share a cuppa with – I love to get out one of my favourite loose leaf teas and use my favourite red teapot.  The English have it right – a cup of tea and a good chat can fix almost anything.

picture of red teapot and cup
My favourite red teapot – a gift from my hubby.
I was standing by the kettle just now, fixing myself a cup of tea (sadly, a cup-for-one with a teabag), when something struck me.  It doesn’t take much to turn a cup of boiling water into a cup of tea.  Within seconds of dunking a teabag, the water has been infused with the colour and flavour of the tea – turning it from clear to murky brown.

Watching my cuppa change colour just now has got me thinking.   I wonder how much the bitterness I’ve been feeling about having to live life with a mental illness has been tainting my life?

It’s not fun having a mental illness.  It’s not fun dealing with the side-effects of various medications.  And I’ll be the first to admit that somewhere, deep inside me, I still hold some bitterness about the cards life has dealt me.   Sure, I can now see a bigger purpose for my life – complete with my bipolar diagnosis – but that doesn’t mean I don’t still sometimes struggle with accepting it.

Most of my friends and family will say that it’s perfectly ok to feel bitter about being diagnosed with a mental illness. The only trouble is, it’s been almost twenty years now since my original diagnosis.  And these feelings of bitterness have a nasty habit of acting like a tea bag: infusing me and my life with anger and regret.

The effects may not always be obvious… but this bitterness got a nasty habit of bubbling to the surface when I’m feeling at my lowest and want something to strike out at.  It’s not something that I want my kids to see in me.

And so, I’m left with a choice.

Do I allow this ‘bag’ of bitterness to continue to colour my life?  Or do I make a conscious effort to finally accept my diagnosis – acknowledging that it will have an ongoing impact on my life and that I will most likely need to continue taking medication for the rest of my life to keep it under control?

It’s a difficult choice.

And yet – looking at the effect tonight that one small teabag had on my big cup full of crystal clear water, I’m determined to not let my diagnosis taint the rest of my life.  Sure it’s almost certainly always going to be part of me – but it’s not going to affect who I am – or the life I was created to live.

Mariska xx

Do you feel bitter or angry because of your mental illness or something else in your life? Have you had to take steps to deal with your bitterness? I’m sure other mums would love to hear about and learn from your experience.