50 Years BiPolar 1 Never Felt Better
 
Illness Stigma Family Friends Careers, Life Lessons
In my Wainwrights Shoes Memoir By Chris Wainwright,
 
4. Were my Doctors to Blame?

I returned to our family shoe business fully expecting to start feeling better but nothing changed. I once had to walk away from customers I was serving. I may have had some sort of panic attack but I was bad and shouldn’t really have been working. It was a fruitless attempt to get myself back in the saddle. Losing confidence was one thing but serious depression is something else. I kept worrying about how I’d explain my situation to people I knew if they came in shop. I’d been saying that selling footwear appealed more than the law but I don’t think it convinced anyone. I’d been told by a senior member of our staff that everyone was pleased I was back in the business except for my brother. At the time I dismissed it as stirring. Eight years my younger we’d always been opposites. Not one for the shop floor David preferred working on his own. Against dads wishes he joined the business straight from school without going to university or getting other outside experience. Not obtaining an  degree was a mistake which left him feeling unconfident. While I was badly depressed it didn't matter. Later when I recovered the difference was obvious. I’d fought the depression for several years without any success. I was good at looking happy but the pretence was a strain. I thought I could persevere but I got that wrong.

No doctor ever mentioned I seek medical advice again if I felt badly depressed. Neither did anyone suggest I might become suicidal. When that happened I was at the end of my tether and drove off for a “trial run” with one of my guns. I look back at it as an experiment to see how far I’d go. I hadn’t quite hit rock bottom or am I now kidding myself? Sitting ready in the car really did focus my mind. I thought carefully of the consequences and knew it wasn't right. I heard some dreadful news a while ago about a talented England sportsman who took his own life. He’d been plagued for years by recurring depressions. People sometimes call suicide selfish but they won’t have experienced his unrelenting chronic depression. That unfortunate man was brave but in the deepest despair. He'd completely given up hope of believing he would ever make a recovery. Anyone with even the slightest degree of compassion will understand that. He missed a doctors appointment so the tragedy could possibly have been prevented but sadly mental health services are stretched. Anyone having suicidal thoughts must send out the loudest clearest message they can for help and leave nobody in doubt that they feel desparate. They must never stop believing that they will definitely get better. It doesnt matter how bad they feel at the time. With proper help the very worst feelings pass sooner than you'd ever think possible.
 
Diagnosed with Bipolar Type 1

The day after my own 'experiment' I was in a terrible state of shock. I couldn’t possibly move from my bed I was too frightened by what had happened. I heard doctor M tell my wife that they’d have to call in the experts. I thought that they’d already done that but this turned out to be completely different people! I duly attended the Warneford Hospital Oxford mental health department. They were very confident, reassuring and a revelation. I knew right away that I was in the hands of specialists who knew what they were doing. They told me I had a manic depressive illness and could immediately start on medication to control and stabilise it. I was extremely pleased and knew my parents would be delighted to hear too. On the phone however dad couldn’t help himself and exclaimed, ''for chrissake boy you wanna keep that quiet''. That came as a shock but as soon as he’d said it he knew it was the wrong thing to say and never repeated it again. My treatment at the Warneford was a huge success. Only a few weeks later I was back to my old self. Why did psychiatrist Dr S and my GPs not refer me in the first place? I'd been a successful achiever who for no reason became a depressed shadow of his former self. Wasn’t that enough of a clue? Of course it was! At the time I wasn't aware that the Cross Keys doctors knew I had bipolar. It was obvious to them but for fourteen years they’d kept it to themselves and left me at risk of suicide. If I'd taken my own life they knew they could deny all knowledge and appear beyond reproach. By delaying and doing nothing they avoided having to break bad news which was the last thing they wanted. They thought bipolar 1 would finish me for good and didn't want to be associated with the suggestion. Unless they can persuade me otherwise their actions were negligent and probably amounted to a conspiracy

Fortunately I survived and one of the Warneford team had to break the bad news. Once on lithium and antidepressants however I began to get my life back. No more life-stopping depressions. Having had a single manic episode I was told I was an ‘average’ bipolar type 1. Mania causes great embarrassment for men because their libidos catapult into the stratosphere. There's nothing you can do about your sexual urge because it's nature. It's a great shock and highly embarrassing for a normally polite and respectable young man when he finds out how he propositioned members of the opposite sex. The man in his manic episode will be out of control like a mad thing doing anything that takes his fancy however inappropriate that may be! Nothing violent or harmful I would hasten to add. From what I remember I was in quite a good mood. With depression on the other hand others are safe but depending on the depth of your mood your own existance could be at risk. With severe depression life has little or no attraction. Your favourite activities count for nothing. You don’t think you'll ever feel normal again so why carry on? Even sex provides little comfort and becomes take it or leave it. If you think it’s about will-power think again. Just as we can’t control feelings of fear, joy and grief it’s the same with deep depression. There's no on/off switch you just have to be patient and get the best treatment you possibly can until it passes. Happily my inherited mood fault has been successfully controlled by medication for many years. Thanks to the ‘magic’ properties of lithium I don’t have the extreme high or low moods anymore. I’m extremely thankful for that!


I’d always intended to visit my friends in France and the Army but I’d been through 17 years of life-shattering trauma and took a long time getting over the trauma of it. During that ‘untreated’ time I couldn’t have faced up to seeing them I just didn't have the confidence. Now on meds I was well able to talk and behave confidently just as I did before it struck. I still had reservations about seeing them because I might have to go into details which I hadn't prepared myself for. I wasn't at ease being open about bipolar and I wasn't good on alcohol. I would have found it easier resuming my solicitor’s career because in a different firm and area the people wouldn't know me and unless I disclosed my bipolar there'd be no stigma to put people off.

From time to time I thought about my French wine importing plans as Bob Laithwaite did with Bordeaux Direct. In the circumstances I decided to stay where I was. At that point, in the early days, David and I worked well together at Princes Risborough. Dad said we'd have a good business between us. At my suggestion we called ourselves ‘Footwear Specialists’. We needed to bring the business up to date. With more ambition and appetite on the Board we could easily have opened a specialist store in High Wycombe.
 
Coming to the Rescue

Just before my diagnosis I’d been working with father, brother and an experienced staff at Princes Risborough. With the three of us there the shop ran like clockwork and customers had a truly unbeatable service. Out of the blue, however, dad dropped a bombshell. He told me that he was on the point of surrendering the Beaconsfield lease and closing the branch which had become unprofitable. Following uncle Dereks retirement the business had been run by his manager but sales had been steadily declining although the double unit store was in a prime position. For several years Dad and David couldn’t work out what was wrong. I’d worked at the branch while I was ill with depression and feeling awful. We thought that I could ‘work’ myself better but it was the wrong thing to do. Now that I’d fully recovered I recalled my uncles remarks on retirement and had some knowledge of the shops history. Dad asked me to meet the manager and see if I could find anything wrong.

There are two things about bipolar 1 that would improve peoples lives. The first is stopping stigma which makes having the illness worse. The second is to provide better protection for people during their employment. I've written about my own experience on this site and feel certain that others will have faced similar injustice. If so please contact me because I'm actively investigating both subjects. There appears to be very little information and advice available which can't be right since both matters are extremely important. Stigma, by the way, includes all or any negative behaviour relating to the illness and/or the patient. I say that stigma played a big part in my medics negligence. I am and was above average intelligence and experience yet I was treated by them as if I was someone debilitated. I've encountered this attitude throughout the NHS with several exceptions. If I'd ever presented without my bipolar 1 disclosed in my notes I'd have been better treated