Shana – Struggles with bipolar and Borderline Personality Disorder

It was always inevitable that Shana’s world would come crashing down at some point. It happened over Christmas 2014. Living on a 2,700 hectare olive grove in rural Australia, she recalls, “I just thought, I’m going to go out in to the middle of the olive grove, take my overdose and nobody will find me”. It wasn’t a cry for help, she really wanted to end her life.

Aged 19, Shana had ventured to the other side of the world. Within two months of meeting an Australian man, she married him on a small island, in the idyllic Whitsundays. “We were really drunk, drinking lots of cocktails and getting married sounded really good”. But that’s when it all started to go downhill. Their relationship became violent and turbulent. “It sounds awful but I would beat him up but he would beat me up as well. It would turn in to these awful fights.”

Shana has bipolar and Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD). The aggression comes from her BPD and looking back on her life before her diagnosis, she can see the symptoms were always there. She wasn’t diagnosed with bipolar until she was in Australia. And it wasn’t until she came back to the UK that she was diagnosed with BPD. She had headed off to Australia by herself, not telling anyone apart from her mum and brother. “I didn’t even quit my job. I just never went in… Looking back now I realise I was having some sort of episode.”

I was so lonely out there I decided to get in to taxidermy.”

When Shana first married, the couple lived in a small Australian settlement. She describes it like something out of a wild west movie. Just one main street, consisting of a gas station and a supermarket. She was expected to stay at home all day to cook and clean, whilst her husband worked. The only things she had to talk to were the kangaroos and the stray cats. “I was so lonely out there I decided to get in to taxidermy. I would go driving around and pick up the dead kangaroos and the dead animals, dead sheep, take them home, boil them up in my garden and make things out of them.”

Just before Christmas 2014, Shana and her husband moved back to the olive grove where they first met. They were there to work the harvest. Shana received news from the UK that her step-dad’s health had deteriorated. He was told he may only live for a couple more years. At the same time she heard a friend of hers from school had died. She felt so far away in Australia with no-one to talk to. Her husband wasn’t sympathetic at all. He didn’t even like her crying in the house and would send her outside when she became emotional. It was also at this time that he decided he wanted to break up with her. Shana’s life collapsed. They shared a house, the car she drove was his and all their money was in his bank account. She had nothing and no-one to turn to. “That was it for me. I didn’t have a way out.” Luckily for Shana, her husband found her after she took her overdose. Still to this day she doesn’t know how he found her on such a large property. She could have been literally anywhere on the estate. “It was just by chance. It was really weird”.

“I remember them screaming at me, ‘stay awake, stay awake, stay awake’”.

Shana was rushed to hospital. “I remember them screaming at me, ‘stay awake, stay awake, stay awake’”. She found out later that she had technically died and they had brought her back to life. After stabilising her in the intensive care unit for a week, the hospital asked if she would agree to be admitted to the psychiatric ward. Still a bit dazed, she consented, not realising the consequences of the awful situation she found herself in. “I had no way to get out”. As she had voluntary agreed, she wasn’t able to leave unless someone signed her out. She called her husband. “He didn’t want to know me”. She wasn’t allowed to call her mum, as the hospital wouldn’t allow calls to England. She was trapped, with no-one to help her and no-one in Australia to call. She didn’t even have any clothes, knickers or shoes to wear. “I was living in one of those gowns… It was the most degrading thing.” Her saviour appeared in the form of her cousin. He had flown in to Australia to work with Shana on the olive grove and they finally managed to get in touch. He discharged her from the psychiatric ward, eight weeks after she was first admitted.

“I never want anyone to go through what I’ve been through”.

In the nearly three years since Shana has returned from Australia, she has tried her hand at many things. “I’ve set up five different business… I’ve got hundreds of business cards with all these things I’ve done,” she laughs. The one thing that she has stuck to though, is Bridged Mental Health Group. It’s a mental health support group she has set up with a friend in Berkhamsted. “With Bridged, I am not going to give it up”. And I believe her sincerity. She knows what it is like to be in a situation where you have no-one to turn to. “I never want anyone to go through what I’ve been through”. The support group is not just about those who have mental health conditions, it is also for friends and family. “I think with mental illness people often forget about the people that are left behind”. For over a year it was something Shana had wanted to do, but didn’t feel she could do it by herself. One evening a friend, Fran, messaged her. Fran was at her wits end, feeling suicidal. Shana invited her around to dinner that night. There and then they decided to post a message on to the Everything Berko Facebook page, with the idea of setting up a mental health support group. They expected a handful of likes and maybe a plan to meet up with a few people for coffee. They got around 350 likes, nearly one hundred comments and many private messages. People were crying out for help. “When you have mental illness you do feel alone… and I do think that’s because there’s a stigma,” says Shana. The unique thing about the group is that it doesn’t cater to just one condition, it caters to all mental health diagnoses.

Talking to Shana now she seems very different to the person she describes, although she still dabbles in taxidermy. She is a bubbly, confident 23 year old, wise before her years. She has been discharged from Slippers Hill, the mental health facility in Hemel where she had her psychotherapy. She says her medication is “ok, but with personality disorders and mood disorders you can have a time where it’s ok, but it’s inevitable you’re going to crash”. That is when she will need the support of those around her and the help of the support group Fran and her have set up.

RAW publishes interviews regularly about a community member from Hemel Hempstead or the surrounding villages. To keep up to date with RAW’s interviews, click follow at the top of this page or like RAW’s Facebook page, highlighted at the side of the page.

 

Andy – Homeless but happy

Andy came to Berkhamsted to end his life; “My intention was to step in front of a train,” he says very matter-of-factly. A few years previously he had taken a day trip by train to Berkhamsted and saw how the fast trains flew through the station. At the time he thought it would be an easy way to end his life. So in 2016, with this thought still lodged in the back of his mind, he arrived at the station.

In the context of a long history of mental health issues, life had been spiralling out of control for Andy, and he ended up having a breakdown in 2014. He had enough savings to survive a couple of years without working, due to savings from his career as an engineer. He tried to recuperate over these two years, but when the money ran out he knew that was the end, so he boarded a train to Berkhamsted. Arriving at the station he felt he couldn’t face ending his life right away, so he went off to find somewhere rough to sleep for the night. “I thought I would just lie down on the ground and I would do it tomorrow.”

His fear of death was now stronger than his fear of homelessness.

He had realised the platform at Berkhamsted wasn’t the best place to jump from. There was too much light and he didn’t want to be visible. He found an area further along the track that was more suitable. Twice he stood on the track in front of a train, but he couldn’t go through with his attempt and moved out of the way. He sat by the side of the track contemplating why he couldn’t end his life. “Is it going to be painful? Well you’re not going to survive much longer if a train hits you. Is it the fear of the unknown? But I’m curious to know what happens when we die, so I just came to the conclusion that it’s death itself, the actual act of death we are programmed to fear.”

Having been homeless and sleeping rough for a week, his fear of death was now stronger than his fear of homelessness. He had previously thought homelessness would be so traumatic that it would push him over the edge, but it was the opposite. For him, his homeless situation was “like walking out of one of the James Bond films, where Bond walks out of the rubble and then walks off in to the sunset, leaving this rubble of life behind”.

“I am not trying to be anything at all…I just am.”

His new, relatively nomadic lifestyle is much more compatible with his nature. “(Previously) I was trying to fit in with society and I was playing my role in society and it was contrary to my nature.” He comes back to this point again when reflecting on his past mental health issues and especially his anxiety. He sees a lot of his anxiety was to do with his sense of self, “About who I was or who I was trying to be. Whereas now I am not trying to be anything at all…I just am. This is why I find my current lifestyle very comfortable: I don’t have to be anything.” The paradox of his situation is that he used to get anxiety when there was no rational reason for it. Then he had a good career, money coming in and a roof over his head –and that is when he suffered from anxiety. Now, homeless, he has genuine reasons to be anxious about his situation, “Where is my next meal? Where shall I sleep tonight? Will someone attack me? And I have no anxiety at all. That is a bizarre thing.”

He says everyone he meets has been very supportive and in his nearly two years of homelessness he hasn’t once had a bad experience. Not long after he became homeless, he was sitting in Gadebridge Park on a bench and a man with a shaven head, tattoos and a pit bull terrier approached him and asked if he was homeless. Andy, who is quite well spoken, replied he was fine, but the man insisted. “I thought, ‘Oh no, he’s going to get me dealing drugs!’ but this bloke reaches in to his pocket and says, ‘Go on, have a fiver. I’ve been homeless, I know what its like.’” Andy says he felt so guilty, thinking the worse of this stranger. He is genuinely touched by the kindness that people have shown to him.

“I had accidentally fallen in to a kind of Buddhist lifestyle.”

Andy doesn’t see himself as a religious or spiritual person, but he has been drawn to Buddhism. When he first discovered the Amravati Buddhist Monastery outside the nearby village of Great Gaddesden and heard the Eight Precepts (the original teachings of Buddha), he felt a real connection, a parallel with his own life. For example, in Buddhism there is a rule against using ‘high, luxurious beds’ and as he put it, “I was sleeping on flagstones!” Buddhist’s also only eat between dawn and noon, so before noon they consume a main meal. Andy had been attending the day centre that is run by local charity DENS, which gives out food to the homeless from 11.30am, so he was also eating before noon. “I realised I had accidentally fallen in to a kind of Buddhist lifestyle, a lifestyle which was a very positive experience.” Buddhist’s also believe that nature will provide for you. “I don’t beg or ask for anything. I wait for things to happen and somehow they have. It’s extraordinary. For a not very spiritual person, that’s quite a weird feeling.” People have given him coats when he needed them for the winter, others have given blankets and one person gave him a bivouac bag to sleep in, so he has never been uncomfortably cold.

Andy spends his weekend at the monastery, where he gets a shower, a bed and can wash his clothes, in exchange for volunteering in the library. During the week, he spends his days in Hemel, visiting the local library and going to the day centre to receive food. The local library has been very supportive and staff are happy for him to sit and read all day. He chews through books and reads The Guardian every day. At night he walks back to Berkhamsted to find somewhere to sleep.

It is like he feels he has been given a second chance at life.

When I ask about what the future holds this doesn’t concern him. Again, he finds the Buddhist philosophy helpful. The Buddhist lifestyle is about living in the present moment and letting life unfold in front of you. “I feel there are these forces taking care of me. I am quite willing to say, ‘Let’s see what happens.’” He deliberately doesn’t have a plan and is fascinated to see what each day brings, who talks to him and who provides him with the things he needs, at the time he needs them. I worry about his glasses he wears, as reading is such a big part of his life. What will happen if his glasses break, or as his prescription changes. “It’s all for nature to sort out,” he laughs.

Andy is very matter-of-fact about everything – about his mental health issues and his previous desire to end his life. I think this is because he is so settled and content with his new life. He sees himself in a new chapter, free from the anxieties and depression that had plagued him since he was 15. It is like he feels he has been given a second chance at life.

RAW publishes interviews regularly about a community member from Hemel Hempstead or the surrounding villages. To keep up to date with RAW’s interviews, click follow at the top of this page or like RAW’s Facebook page, highlighted at the side of the page.