What I love about this community is sharing. I have done many stupid things in my life and consequently hated myself more than any other person could do. People have said for years (different ones) that I am too hard on myself; I didn't know how to be any different. It seemed the natural way to cope with life's vicissitudes. I grew up hating my Mother because I felt she hated me; I felt a pest, in the way.

My Mother is a very damaged person; believing she was never wanted. (Nan told her she cried when she knew she was expecting ).

I was diagnosed with depression in 1991, the GP asked me what I liked doing; I couldn't think of anything. Not a thing.

In a year I had got married; had my 2nd Daughter; moved house; said goodbye to two lots of friends who moved from the Midlands to New Zealand and Australia. It was all too much. My husband knowing I was struggling would tease me about going to the 'funny farm' when I had Psychiatric appointments. He also threatened to sleep with other women if I did not cooperate. He also insisted I wear wig, make up and short dresses "So I think I'm with another woman.

"

I believed everything was MY fault; I had OCD of 'germs/dirt' so he said "You'll end up like Howard Hughes, isolated and lonely". At the same time I was being harassed by a very unpleasant young neighbour – whose family boasted that she was expelled from school for beating up a Teacher; and later on "She only sleeps with married men".

Sometimes I marvel that I'm still here and negotiating the highs and extreme lows of mental ill-health. There will be another instalment when I can face writing my failures down.

Love

Angela

A Moodscope member.