In May this year, I decided that I simply couldn't go on anymore. I wrote out a rudimentary will, leaving all my belongings to my husband, left it on my desk and put all my pills in my pocket. Then I got in my car, drove to Emmerentia dam, and sat in my car at the side of the road, crying and trying to pluck up the courage to swallow the pills. There was a road race on and people kept banging on the window to see if I was all right. I wished they would leave me alone.

I took my cellphone and started walking and suddenly I realised I hadn't said goodbye to my children. I didn't know what to do. I was completely irrational - how could I kill myself if I hadn't said goodbye to my children? I phoned my psychologist and told him what I planned to do. After talking for over an hour, he persuaded me to go home, have a hot bath and get into bed. It was just another episode in a life already filled with erratic mood swings, anger, darkness and despair.

There are days when I feel like I'm at the bottom of a mineshaft. They say that all you see when you look up from a mineshaft is stars. But when I look up, all I see is blackness. I am so far down that it's as if I will never be able to get out again.
I didn't always feel like this. I had an unusual childhood as my family moved around a lot. I spent most of my early childhood in what was then Rhodesia, and moved to South Africa when I was 14. I never had the chance to make real or lasting friendships, and it was the start of an unsettled, rootless feeling that I've had all my life.

They say that one of the major causes of Bipolar Disorder is genetic - I could well have inherited it from my parents, because looking back, I can see patterns in their behaviour that could be attributed to Bipolar Disorder. They were both fairly short tempered and erratic. But there is more to the disease than that - social conditions also play a part, South Africa is an extremely stressful society. I'm not saying it causes the disease, but it really doesn't help.

From an early age I had a problem concentrating – my first two jobs lasted four months each, until I finally settled at the computer department of a Cape Town insurance company. However, I was told that I would never be a programmer because of my short
attention span.

When I was 18, I met my husband. We went out for six years, and I was fine most of the time, but in my early 20s I suddenly found myself under a lot of pressure from family and friends and I suffered my first bout of depression. I was emotionally immature and I couldn't handle the stress.

The family doctor put me on anti-depressants, which turned me into a zombie. At work, I would sit by myself in another world and one day I just burst into tears and couldn't stop crying. I went to see another doctor who told me I wasn't suffering from depression but from anxiety.  He put me onto a different drug that seemed to help and eventually I decided to come to terms with my life.
Once I was feeling more stable I stopped taking the tablets and soon got married. I started studying for my BCom through Unisa and I found that my concentration had improved dramatically.

Then, unexpectedly, I fell pregnant. It was a bit of a shock, but I had a wonderful pregnancy. I felt so special and cherished and loved. The birth was a different story. I had a 17-hour labour and an emergency Caesarian because my baby weighed four
kilograms. I was so upset that I'd had to have a Caesarian; I felt as if I had failed in some way.
The first few months were very hard. My son was a good baby, but I just couldn't cope. It was like being in a tunnel with no light at the end. One day, the nursing sister realised there was something wrong with me. She told my doctor that my depression was far worse than the baby blues

At that time I could only see the world in black and white; there was absolutely no colour. All I wanted to do was sleep. I was put onto anti depressants and referred to a psychiatrist. Over the next few months, I managed to stabilise, and when my son was 18 months old, we were transferred to Johannesburg. I fell pregnant again before his second birthday. But I was coping much better.
One day, after my daughter's birth, I was driving along the M1 highway, when the depression just suddenly descended on me. It felt like a big oily puddle had covered me and I couldn't lift my head. The oily substance kept pulling me down and all I could
think was: 'I wonder if I should just steer my car into one of these concrete blocks on the side of the highway and end it all now'.
I realised immediately that I had serious depression and went to see a psychologist who helped me. From then on, I had recurrent bouts of depression alternating with bouts of overachievement. For example, when I was 34, I decided on a career change. I still wanted to be a computer programmer, so I took the test again and this time I scored 100 percent, which showed how my concentration skills had improved. I completed an intensive four-month course and scored very well - in the top percentage of the class. I found a job with and my career was going very well. Then I got ill with jaundice and was off work for six weeks.
When I returned to work the depression came back with me. I thought it was because I wasn't happy at work, so I changed jobs. I was all right for a while, and then I got sick again; this time the doctor diagnosed ME. I tested positive for glandular fever, one of the ME triggers.

I worked together with a medical doctor and homeopath, who helped me to get through the ME. Then I started getting terrible migraines, one of which lasted for seven days. I also had irritable bowel syndrome. All of these ailments were my body’s way of saying: 'something's wrong'.

On days when I felt that I couldn't cope or concentrate, I forced myself to continue. Instead of taking a break, I would push myself. When I wasn't depressed, I tried to take on too much and then the wheels would fall off. I cried a lot at work and although some of my bosses were understanding, others were not.

As a result, I kept changing jobs, and eventually became IT manager. One day I was crying in my office when the HR manager came in and said: 'You're management, you can't do this. You can't just sit here and cry'. But I didn't know how to stop myself.
Eventually, my homeopath sent me for cognitive therapy, which teaches you to analyse your behaviour to find out what the triggers are, and to learn to react accordingly. This helped me become aware of my behaviour patterns. For example, I learned that I shouldn't rush, and if I was late, I shouldn't make an issue of it.

After a few sessions, my therapist diagnosed Bipolar Disorder (commonly known as Manic-Depression) and referred me to another psychiatrist. I was told that I had Bipolar Type II Disorder, At last, after all these years; I had a name for my disease. I felt relieved and apprehensive at the same time.

There are several types of Bipolar Disorder - most people are familiar with Type I, which is what the character Richard Gere had in the movie ‘Mr Jones’. People with this type feel high, euphoric and excitable and often get themselves into financial trouble by spending money they don't have and sleeping only a few hours a night. I have some of these symptoms - for example, when I get excited, I talk so quickly I can't get the words out fast enough. I also change subjects quickly and my thoughts go off at a tangent.

Bipolar II is different. It's about not being able to get out of bed in the morning. It's about feeling nothing, not even sadness. It's feeling nothing but a total void inside, and even though you know you have everything you could ever want, you can't take pleasure in anything. There is also an opposite mood, known as hypomania which manifests in extreme irritability eventually building up into anger if the stressors are not removed.

Anxiety is another symptom. If I go to a shopping mall where there are too many people, the music is too loud or the lights too bright, I have complete sensory overload. I feel as if people are rushing towards me. Some days I can handle it and some days I can't. At least now I know what to do - I just go to a quiet place.
The rage can be dangerous. I often shout at people who irritate me and this can embarrass my children. I can't stop myself. Sometimes if I'm angry I drive like a maniac - it's totally self-destructive behaviour. There is no logical, rational explanation.

Being bipolar is not all doom and gloom. When I have good moods they are very good; I am creative, intelligent, productive and the life and soul of the party. Often people cannot believe that I have periods of depression. But the bouts of euphoria don't happen often and when they do it's for a day or a couple of hours.
Luckily my psychiatrist is also a pharmacologist who treats me as if we were partners, explaining everything in detail. I have been on 16 different drugs so far, but I have drug-resistant depression, so he's trying to find different chemical combinations that will help me.
When I change medication, my brain chemistry is altered and that sets off a chemical roller coaster with artificial highs and lows.
I've also had to change my lifestyle. Because of the drugs, I can't eat anything that has been aged and that includes cheese, biltong, red wine and processed meats.

One of the major problems I face is other people's perception of my illness. I feel that sometimes people think I am a fraud because I'm fine one day and down the next. They don't understand that I am as sick as someone who is a diabetic. If I end up in hospital because I am depressed, people think I'm neurotic.
I've spent time in hospital during the last two years. My longest period of hospitalisation, in June this year, was three and a half weeks. After being in hospital for two weeks, I was sitting in the bath, shaving my legs, and I looked at the safety razor and contemplated suicide again. I was kept in hospital for another week.

Being Bipolar also has a huge effect on interpersonal relationships. There are times when my husband doesn't know what to do with me. He sees my anger and despair and wishes he could help but there is nothing he can do. My daughter gets upset when I lose my temper and start shouting at my family. My son withdraws and refuses to communicate with me when I am like that. I seem to spend my life losing my cool with the people I love, then abjectly apologizing a few hours later.

Yet despite all this, my husband, children and friends are the only reason I've been able to get through. Despite his pressurised job, my husband has always been there, no matter what. I'm always open with my children, and both my daughter and son, who are now teenagers, try to understand. I was admitted to hospital just before my son's matric dance, so he and his date visited the ward to show me how great they looked.

I have been concerned that they might inherit Bipolar Disorder as well, but my doctor says I mustn't worry yet - if they have it, symptoms will only show in their early 20s. He says that new medical treatments are being discovered all the time and the illness will soon be controllable.

I believe that sooner or later the doctors will find the right combination of drugs to stabilise me, although I'll probably be on medication for the rest of my life. In the meantime I have other coping mechanisms. I try to exercise every day. I go to yoga twice a week and I also walk a lot. Classical music has helped me through some rough periods. And I paint. I resigned last year and now work as a consultant when I can. I also joined a Bipolar support group.

On the days when I'm rational I have hope. I believe my disease will be controlled, that my moods will stabilise and that I will be able to cope. On other days it feels like I'm still in the dark, black nothingness at the bottom of a mineshaft.

Bipolar Disorder is a medical condition in which people experience erratic mood swings which are totally unrelated, to things going on in their lives. These swings affect thoughts, feelings, physical health, behavior, and functioning. There is no single, proven cause of Bipolar Disorder, but research strongly suggests that it is often an inherited problem related to a lack of stability in the transmission of nerve impulses in the brain.

When diagnosed Bipolar Disorder can be treated.

This article was published in Marie Claire October 2001 edition and is published here with their permission