Bipolar Mum Journey

Accountability. Let’s talk about it. I own up to 80% of the chaos in my life, but here’s the twist: that 80% only exists because of the 20% I didn’t create. The part I wasn’t responsible for, the chaos I was exposed to from an early age set the stage for everything that followed.

As a kid, visiting my mum and stepdad in Hulme, Manchester, was like stepping into another world. Their lives were absolute madness, and I couldn’t help but be captivated. The stories they told were wild: free-spirited characters chasing highs, escaping reality with a single hit, and drifting into euphoria. For them, it seemed like a quick break from the chaos they couldn’t escape. To me, my mum’s trap house was fascinating. It was a welcome contrast to the monotony of my grandmother’s house, where time stood still as she slept for hours.

That environment shaped me in ways I didn’t fully understand back then. Over the years, I embraced the same free-spirited approach to life. I didn’t tie myself down to one group or one path. I did what I wanted, went where I pleased, and if my friends weren’t brave enough to leave the safety of our small town, I went to Manchester alone for nights out. I craved excitement. Chaos was my comfort zone.

I have been no angel, I’ve cheated on partners (due to Hyper-sexual/Bipolar induced episodes), I’ve worked for underworld more times than not (even upon leaving prison). I was groomed by a gang from Bradford at 16, a story I’ll expand on in my book. I’ve crossed paths with numerous celebrities, danced at countless raves, and thrived in the violence and unpredictability of London. Losing my biological dad at 13 was a turning point. After that, I decided: no more playing it safe. I could die tomorrow, so I’d rather live without regrets. I don’t want to be on my deathbed asking “what if.” I’d rather leave this world with a string of “oops that happened” moments than a list of missed opportunities.

Yes, even prison had its thrills. Maybe that sounds twisted, but that’s the truth. You might wonder how, especially considering the trauma I faced there, groomed by a prison officer. But what’s one more predators name on the list? It’s just another chapter in a life that’s been marked by chaos.

Through it all, I’ve maintained a good heart, though it’s often worked against me. People take advantage of my kindness. They exploit my trust. And yes, I blame myself for that. I shouldn’t be so naive, but maybe I just see the good in people when I shouldn’t. Is it people-pleasing? Maybe. Who knows? At the end of the day, it’s my problem, and I take ownership of it.

But here’s the thing: I’m not angry at the world. I’m not waking up crying in my cornflakes, begging for pity. I own my choices. The 80% of chaos I created? That’s on me. And if I’ve learned anything, it’s that accountability doesn’t mean wallowing in regret, it means learning to live with your mistakes and move forward.

So, if you’re waiting for me to jump on a certain bandwagon asking the world to feel sorry for me, don’t hold your breath. I’m too busy living.

P.S: Instead of hating on me for speaking out, why not approach me to speak your truth on my YouTube channel or challenge me to a debate?