A personal story about life with bipolar disorder. Well, not only about bipolar disorder, but the twists and turns life can take.

This is a story I never thought that I would write; now I might be the only one that ever reads this, but if I’m not, then I hope that all those who read the story, will read it with an open mind. I hope that this story will finally ease the hurt, torment and despair that I have ever felt. This is not a story of malice, nor is it meant to hurt anybody; it’s purely a reflection of my life the way that I’ve lived it, my innermost thoughts and feelings. I hope that through this story, I and everyone else will be able to understand ME better. My wish is that any resentment that anyone feels towards me, because of the things I have done, will be eased once this story is read.

This is written by me, about me, and for me. For the first time in my life, I’m going to be selfish, and yes maybe a bit ruthless. I have to be because if I don’t do this now I never will, and it will be an additional regret in my life. I have omitted to use any surnames, as there are certain individuals who would not like to be known to others.

PART ONE

I was born on 24 September 1958. I never knew my birth father, as I believe that he was a very abusive man, so my mother had no choice but to leave him. When I was about three years old, my mother Nita married Barry who later adopted me. My sister Louise, who is eight years older than I am, came to live with us. We were the average middle-class family. These three people where everything to me. I loved each and every one of them with all my heart. I couldn’t bear it when there was any kind of disharmony in our home; I always thought that one of them would leave me and never return. This type of insecurity stayed with me for many, many years.

I used to feel physically ill if there were any sort of disagreements in our family. I was a terribly shy, unconfident child. When I was 7 years old, I was sent to ballet and modern dance lessons. My mother thought that this would help me to gain more confidence in myself. Fortunately, I had a natural talent for dancing so I excelled at it. I became a very good dancer. It was silently understood that I would make dancing my career. I know that my mom and dad hoped that I would go and join The Royal Ballet Co. in London. Had I been ‘smart’ that is exactly what I should have done. I was very strong-willed and I always thought that I knew better than anyone else did. That was to be my downfall. Although, through my years of experience I realize that life seems to be made up of ‘I should have’ or ‘if only’ and really, at the time that I made my choices I probably ‘would have’ done exactly the same things.

From a very young girl, my sister was my confidant and I her's. We would tell each other everything. So, I guess in a way, I was quite mature in the way that I thought about life. My parents were strict on me, but as long as I was with Louise when we went out, then everything was okay. Our family was very close and we had a lot of good times together. In some ways, I was spoiled by my parents, my sister, grandparents, and other relatives. I was Marléne the dancer with a bright future ahead of me. I was the one person in the family that was going to ‘become someone’. I know that my mother wanted me to have everything she didn’t have. She wanted me to have a career. She was being a normal parent. She went without so much just so that I could go to dancing. She made all of my dancing costumes, and they were always the most beautiful costumes. She would sew day and night, often having to unpick and sew again. I never realized how much effort she put into my costumes and she was self-taught.

My teenage years fell in the midst of the Hippie era, ‘peace brother’ and all that nonsense. Most of my friends smoked pot and took other drugs, but I could see what it was doing to them and I decided for myself that the drug scene was definitely not for me. It must have been a very challenging time for parents in that period. My parents became very strict with me at that time. I wasn’t allowed to go to discos or anything like that. I know they were trying to protect me, but when you are thirteen or fourteen it means a great deal to be able to do whatever your friends are doing. I so wanted to be able to go to the places that my friends went to, but my parents felt that I would succumb to the wicked deeds that were going on all around us. I never felt the need to take drugs or smoke cigarettes so I couldn’t understand why they wouldn’t trust me. At the same time, their other worry was that I would become pregnant, so I was repeatedly lectured about sex. I was told, ‘never let a boy have his way with you’ because then I would be labeled as ‘cheap’ or ‘easy’ and then I would never find a good husband. I suppose it didn’t help matters that I was quite pretty and had a good figure. Well, we all managed to survive that period of our lives and I think that my parents were very grateful that I remained drug free with my virginity still intact.

Towards the middle of 1973, my family started to fall apart. I don’t know what went wrong between my mom and dad. They started having lots of arguments and there was always tension in the air. I spent a lot of time crying and worrying that they were going to get divorced. I also spent a great deal of time at my sister’s home. Louise and her husband lived just around the corner from us. When the tension got too bad at home, I would go there for some peace and a good talk. One evening, my parents had a terrible argument and I was called into their bedroom and told that my father wasn’t actually my father and that he had adopted me when I was three years old. I was devastated. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I remember I just ran out of the flat and went to my friend's place. I felt as though my whole life had been a lie. Everyone knew that Barry adopted me, and I never knew it. It had never crossed my mind. I thought of Barry as my ‘real’ dad. No one had ever given me any reason to think otherwise. What on earth was I supposed to do with this knowledge? I mean did he just stop being my dad. Then when they decided to be friends, would he be my dad again? This was extremely traumatic for me. I didn’t know what to think. However, life goes on, my parents seemed to resolve their differences and everything went back to ‘normal’. The subject of me being adopted never came up again. I felt that maybe I had dreamed up the whole thing.

In 1973, I did particularly well in my dancing and it reinforced my parents’ belief that I should take my dancing to a further level. My dancing career was discussed at length and my parents decided that when I finished school at the end of 1974, I would be allowed to go and join one of the dance companies in London. This would’ve have been a wonderful opportunity for me. I had so much to look forward too. Every one would be proud of me and I would’ve fulfilled every ones’ dreams. However, life doesn’t always go the way we plan it to go.

I turned 15 in September 1973, my sister was expecting her first baby, and I had found out that I was adopted. Wow! What a year! Now turning 15 might not seem like much of a milestone, but it was for me, because that’s the year my whole life changed. Oh boy! Did it change?

continue to part 2