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A Desperate Journey Through Addiction, Prostitution And Recovery
By Andrea Clarke
ISBN: 978-1-84991-483-3
Published: 2011
Pages: 76
Key Themes: addiction, prostitution, bipolar disorder, manic depression
Description
This life story proves that even the most stable and loving family who never abused, mistreated or deprived their children in any way, are just as capable of producing a delinquent child who causes them nothing but pain as any so called “socially disadvantaged family”.
It’s not always down to the environment we grow up in; some of us are simply born this way.
About the Author
Andrea was born in 1979 in SHAPE (Supreme Headquarters Allied Powers Europe) in Belgium, she was the youngest of 3 children. She moved to England in 1991 and began smoking and bunking off school. At 15 she left home and on her 16th birthday, left her “home town” of Colchester to move to Blackpool with her “first love”. At 19 she married and was injecting speed by this time. At 21 she started using heroin. At 24 she managed to quit the heroin and finally had a normal life of sorts. Through all of this she had no idea that she had Bipolar Disorder. Finally at the age of 31 she was diagnosed and then the medication began.
Book Extract
Prologue
I went through so much in the 20 years between my first symptoms and my diagnosis that many people have said I should write a book about my experiences. So, here it is – me: aged 11 to 32, in full. No lies or embellishment, just a frank account of the last 21 years of my life, warts and all.
Unfortunately, as with many sufferers of Bipolar Disorder, diagnosis has come along rather late in the day; although 31 sounds young, I still feel like I have lost 15 years of my life to drugs and just plain idiocy and misdiagnosis from various doctors along the way. I feel like the first person to be sent home from The Weakest Link, only to find that one small correct answer could have saved my life, and brought me everything I wished for and more.
At first I thought the diagnosis came with a magic cure; a few anti-depressants and antipsychotic medications and “voila!” all fixed up like new. Of course, mental illness is never that simple, and after a short three day high, I came down with a crash when I went right back to screaming like a banshee, and once again had to lock myself away from the children and my husband. And so the story continues, even as I write this prologue.
For the privacy of the people I have spent time with in my life, I have of course had to use pseudonyms throughout this book, but everything else you read is completely true, as far as I remember it, at least. My memories can be a little hazy, as you can imagine; I have taken many substances in my life, so there are big gaps. However, I have taken a lot of time to do my research from my own diaries and the diaries of my mum, so with a bit of luck the gaps will only be small and fairly unnoticeable.
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