If it is not broken

[Spideysenses]

I was young. I had been through enough already so I thought that odd would try and save face. But no greed eclipsed reason. Legally I was entitled to my share of the deposit. And the house should have been sold and I would have been able to go back to the company that kept the door open for me. My nerves could have healed just by being away from him and being with a flatmate instead of my stress heads family of mine.
Instead, he saw an opportunity to throw me to the wolves and realised that if I couldn't get back on my feet quickly enough then I could not report him. And I couldn't. The second time was soul-destroying. My writing saved my life.

[Spideysenses]

Enough to tide me over. I was due at least ......thousand from the deposit to start with and then there should have been a deal mediated for me to gain some of the profit from the sale. It would have ensured I wasn't left in the lurch and could have returned to the company that left the door open for me. Wait are you in charge? You've been in the office for two seconds and you drown out the commander-in-chief. Game. Life is not a game of winners and losers.
I know I left. I left because the next time he lost it, it could have been fatal for me. He was unnaturally strong and had a violent volatile temper and I saw the wild look he got when he lost control.
I was relieved to have been able to leave. Phoning my mum to tell her first to be sure he'd lost his sway over my parents. Not trapped? Wildfire had shown the true colours of my situation. People suspected anyway. I confirmed what was known already. A stitch in time. Retraumatising.

[Spideysenses]

It would be nice to have someone who calls me by my name. The bit oh stuff. The ball and chain. I chose to be myself and not an extroverted imposter. I didn't bend. I did not break either.

[Spideysenses]

Everyone used to say that my blood father was so mild-mannered. You should have heard the way he used to blow his top when I left drips on the tops when making tea or coffee. It was tiny drops. Drops that would dry in the blink of an eye. He never left the army.

[Spideysenses]

Time is on your side. There are people on your side.

[Spideysenses]

Only I will tell my story. Write.

[Spideysenses]

More fool me for being taken in by someone who wanted to use me for their own ends. My family and his work were also fooled.

[Spideysenses]

I don't want or need a platform. Write good books and get my life back. Chung hong. Cho cho. Cheerio. Cheery bye. Goodbye

[Spideysenses]

All I ever wanted was to have hope that my future would be better

[Spideysenses]

Quote. He destroyed your mental health. Unquote.

[Seagull]

Originally Posted by Spideysenses

End of the thread

Best of luck with everything, Spidey. Especially the book.

[Spideysenses]

Thanks!

[Spideysenses]

Needless to say, I stopped using the one social media site I was on ten years back. I went back to delete it all and shut it down completely. I don't blame high-profile people in the spotlight for getting other people to oversee their social media platforms. It would be like being bullied by thousands of trolls otherwise. We all know how harmful and damaging one vicious comment or remark can be. I don't envy the youth of today. I am glad I was about nineteen before social media kicked off. I knew what to avoid. When to extricate myself from unwanted and unneeded pressure and scrutiny. Airbrushing caused an uproar. Now filters are everywhere. I can't stand

[Spideysenses]

Why the hell spend a decade perfecting?
Can't swallow an elephant whole.

[Spideysenses]

Say I were from a middle-class family I'd have gone to art school or taken all three sciences as I should have, and been a Veterinarian or an Art Therapist. Not a supermarket manager of one section. A writer's life suits me. This is my home too. You must understand that by now. Here. Here and now. Books to write. Despite them.

[Spideysenses]

Youth is wasted on the young. Fame and adoration are wasted on the wasted. One of my pet hates is when I pick up and start reading a book on writing fiction or the art of storytelling and so on, only to realise it is a script writer's guide. Is a book a failure if it is not adapted onto the silver screen nowadays?

[Spideysenses]

There is nothing worse when a person laughs at you. Makes a joke at your expense. Finds your weaknesses and exploits them. Laughing with someone is entirely different. Like the chewing effect we get from stories, laughing is essential. But humour as a defence mechanism can turn sinister.

[Spideysenses]

The application to the first job I applied for was an Americanised personality mumbo jumbo faff. On the first application, I answered truthfully, only altering one or two questions to make myself seem "Louder." I heard not a sausage back. So second attempt I lied on more questions to seem more outgoing and effusive and to try and "sell myself." Like a lot of youngsters, I was more comfortable and hyper around my friends. I wanted to make a good impression on those I looked up to and respected. But my teachers were fuming at me and told unscrupulous I didn't go to university due to laziness. So he told my boss whom he was chummy with. God, I need to get away from my clicky town I thought at times. But I was stubborn. Melting down again only required me to swallow my pride. Which is easier said than done.

[Spideysenses]

Monkey see monkey do. That's why we fell out that night and odd tripped me up in the middle of the road. It was who upset and rubbed up the wrong way, broke fingers on the lampost letting her belly rumble. No one is hyper tonight. At the bowling alley. It's called reality luv. Growing up and facing the music. Odd arm wrestled with the scrub. And I was in an unfavourable mood due to monkey see monkey do. This friendship had ended before then. None of my friends came to see me. If it were longer than 28 days? No. Say no.

[Seagull]

You fill up my Spidey senses
Like a night in a forest
Like the mountains in springtime
Like a walk in the rain
Like a storm in the desert
Like a sleepy blue ocean
You fill up my Spidey senses
Come fill me again

Come, let me love you
Let me give my life to you
Let me drown in your laughter
Let me die in your arms
Let me lay down beside you
Let me always be with you
Come, let me love you
Come love me again
Let me give my life to you
Come, let me love you
Come love me again

You fill up my Spidey senses
Like a night in a forest
Like the mountains in springtime
Like a walk in the rain
Like a storm in the desert
Like a sleepy blue ocean
You fill up my Spidey senses
Come fill me again

[Spideysenses]

Myers briggs is a fun test in some respects. But I don't believe it should be taken as gospel.

[Spideysenses]

Who throws the first stone. Full stop.

[Spideysenses]

I didn't want to write a memoir in an attempt to control or influence what others thought of me. On the contrary. I believe that with most things in life people will come to their own conclusions and opinions. Make up their own minds. It doesn't matter about the fact or fiction or conspiracy theories or speculations or judgement in the eyes of the law.
I honestly knew the bare bones about bipolar aside from hearing theories about Van Gogh and famous artists. I struggled to find memoirs. The American ones seemed to err away from the side of truth. And lo and behold some were rumbled as fabricated. I went ahead with my endeavour even more leaving no stone unturned. A wholly true memoir was needed. I needed to do it. Make sense of the meltdown. I knew why it happened once and then again. I felt like I had to prove that I was not wasting my potential. I'd be happy for my story and efforts to have touched one person. I just wanted to get my life back. I hadn't hurt a soul and I was losing mine to a life of looming nothingness.

Having a brain, I never thought I was allowed to have a career where I could simply make a good living. I always felt duty-bound to help others. I was never going to stand back or give up and do nothing.
A memoir to me was a way back INTO life and not a cop-out of the rat race to a life of leisure. It didn't matter if I was told that I had been through a lot and had earned my free time. I'd have felt compelled to have something to show for my time. Books and paintings. Marathons. Not through wanting more notches on my belt. But fear of being seen as Idle.

[Spideysenses]

I'll post link to the book on e- candle

[Spideysenses]

In war a soldier dies like a dog for no good reason

[Spideysenses]

There are bad apples in every profession. In high positions of power. Hidden in plain sight. More often than not, people who have been in mental health treatment are the victims of violence and abuse. Emotional and psychological as well as physical.

[Spideysenses]

Some people never learn. Go blue in the face it makes no difference.

[Spideysenses]

Government should give people allotments or small plots of land to grow some of our fresh food. Granted we can't grow all our food on British soil. This would be a great initiative. It was on a news programme. Had to repost it.

[Spideysenses]

I have carefully considered a group to put my past in perspective. To be fair there is every likelihood that my story will shock and put other people's worries in perspective. I hate feeling like I am stealing anyone's thunder or undermining someone even when I don't mean to put someone's nose out of joint. I do not do pity or sympathy, it is my golden rule.

[Spideysenses]

My parents were not responsible human beings when I was growing up. If it weren't for my grandparents, I'd never have been encouraged to read. My parents bought their ex-social housing property. Once they did that they felt like their life's work was done. Once I was turfed out, and there was room for my sibling alone, life was sorted. They made it clear that when I moved out I wasn't welcome back. I felt like an inconvenience to their life - social life - my entire childhood. Bounced around babysitters and both sets of grandparents. Seeing how bitter and broken down my blood father was, made me sure I'd never join the forces. He was a man and his own comrades in arms ruined his career. Deliberately smashing his leg against a goalpost in a football game. It was never going to be the life for me. Even though I was dying for a skilled job which seemed impossible to get in my hometown, signing my life away for seven years was never the answer. Not for me. I was intelligent enough and disciplined enough to be my own boss. I could have started my own club at eighteen with martial arts. I had built up my confidence. But I said in class: I wish I could write books. That is my aim. I can't work in the same circles as that unscrupulous dunderhead. His girlfriend is as young as me.

I took the criticism of my means to an end on the chin. I didn't think I could do anything else. Shrug it off. Only bite back if it were necessary as a last resort. I wasn't giving up on my brain. It looked that way from the outside. To teachers. But I guess many knew that I was poor and not well off. That my parents were p##sheads and my blood father was a broken man. But I never felt any sympathy that is for sure. It was better that way. I truly believe and am glad that my home life was never under the spotlight. Until unscrupulous made a fool of me. Until I had a meltdown. It was a bit of a relief. I could admit I had a hard life. Knew that those who were thoughtful enough would realise that people don't land in a psych ward without past trauma. Especially people who reach high levels in sport and school attainment. I had friends, had boyfriends, led exercise classes full of people, and was close to my grandparents before my mum turned them against me and I worked. The doctors ruled out drugs and ruled that alcohol was not a reason but stress was and something in the past was suspected from day one.
The first question people jump to for a woman in treatment is always: did someone...? I was asked about my earliest memory. My mum and father scurling at each other on the stairs. I don't say it. I don't know if I can trust this person this soon and I am crashing, my mind in shards. I did not have a trustworthy person in my life then. Not my friends or family. So being alone in the hospital didn't strike the fear of death into me. I refused to go home on a weekend pass. I knew my parents were trying to pull the wool over the eyes of those trying to help me. I should have been present for all. The doctor shares the conclusion of the month-long stay with me alone. I was offered art therapy and then an assertiveness course. Can you blame me for politely saying no and wanting to stay away from the place?
I got the right outcome and treatment in the end. I needed to be there for the month, accepted it, and worked through it. That's life. It is never perfect. Sometimes we do have to take the good with the bad. A rose garden needs rain. When we realise that the bad is eclipsing the small slithers and moments of good and isn't improving, there should be a warning issued from within. My brain was obviously in good working order as it issued a loud resolute piercing warning. And I didn't ignore it.