So, some background; I was 3 when I was taken from my birth mother along with my brother and half brother. This was in 1974, so you can imagine that things were different then. My biological brother and I were placed in one children's home and my half brother in another since he is special needs. After a couple of years, I was placed in a foster home, my brother in another and my half brother was returned to our birth mother. I never saw them again until I was 30 or so.

In foster care, I was severely abused. Actually, I think the emotional, physical and other abuse that was going on there was actually worse than the neglect my birth mother exhibited, but then again; what do I know? This is where my PTSD developed.

I've been in foster care until I came of age and went off to university. Throughout my life, I've been having problems with my moods. I went to the united states, something that should have filled me with nothing but joy, but I really was too depressed to enjoy the experience. One of the few friends I had cynically remarked that I was clearly having a great time. And a couple of months later, I was convinced, and I mean convinced, that the Dutch secret service was after me. I saw people in the streets looking at me, people in cars looking at our house. It was a crazy time. I was about 18 then. And I started to hear voices. Nothing too strange, I just heard someone calling my name and ask me something but I never quite could make out what was said.

Anyways, during my graduate degree the problems with my mood started to escalate. I entered into depression with both vital and psychotic features and this lasted for years. I was started on medication, and it helped. I stopped medication when I felt stable again. BIG MISTAKE!

I have been drepessed off and on since then. And manic too, although I never thought something was wrong. Of course I was the most important person alive and of course I was a wizard capable of summoning demons. And, although I have some philosophy under my belt, of course the world was waiting for a book by me on the reasons the human species became the dominant species. And that I was denied access to the laboratory where I worked as a MSc student because I nearly blew up the lab, that was just a minor inconvenience. No, only the depression was a problem. Because I just couldn't work when depressed.

I got my MSc degree, and was working towards a PhD when the **** really hit the fan. I got into a physical fight with our lab technician and was denied access to the lab again. Suffice to say, I am not a PhD.

I got married. And at one time, when I was 40, my spouse remarked that it was unsafe for me to be out in the streets, I needed to go the hospital. Three times I have been hospitalized for what I now know were manic episodes. But, the pdoc thought I might have borderline.

Anyways, now, 8 years later, I have been diagnosed as bipolar type I, with psychotic features. My Psychiatrist thinks this may change to schizoaffective disorder but she started me on several meds, including seroquel, abilify and lithium. So, I'm hoping I stay calm and stable for now.