A Introduction

Parenting is far from easy, this much is fact.  But then you add in complications.  That said I guess I will start at the beginning so you have a rough idea whom I am, my family is, n why this blog has come to me.

May 2012, yes that long ago I did a pregnancy test, I remember it vividly sat in the bathroom of a high street department store, peeing on a stick, and then waiting, the wait that appeared to take an eternity, whilst not the most glamorous of settings it served its intended purpose BUT their was a issue, I am legally blind, have been since March 2010.  I couldn’t see a line let alone two on said test, so ended up Whatsapping a photo of said test to a friend who knows whom she is and asking her what she could see!  The outcome being those 2 lines are now a human called Jemima who will be 6 years young in January.

That is the crux: now to the more complex aspects of why I have opted to set up a blog.

I am many things yet nothing, I am someone yet something, I live with and deal with a lot, far more than many actually could or try to comprehend and that impacts on every element of my being.

I am a solo parent, all be it dating an incredible human called Chris.  

I am a human of lived experience, which includes but doesn’t just include as to list all would bore you to tears n pain my hands to type:

Bipolar Disorder

Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder



and have I mentioned I am blind. 

Alongside all this I also happen to be Gender Fluid, Pansexual and Jewish.

Whilst this blog will cover a lot including my day to day life, it may also let you the reader into darker aspects of my being, as earlier this year I was raped twice in 6 days by someone whom was at the time a friend, his actions resulted in me loosing my Mental Wealth and ending up in a dark hole of Mental Illness once more.  I am now left failed by the system as have had the police tell me due too lack of witnesses and or CCTV they can’t take the case Luther, no support from the Community Mental Health Trust ie NHS I am having to self fund private Trauma Therapy – if you  can spare anything itd mean a lot

So settle down, take a seat, and come on a journey as I attempt to process my head via the medium of blogging

Chris holding Jemima and then me next to them taken at The Deep during October 2018 Half Term

Post Grad Study Ahoy

Prior to having Jemima I had been studying for a Masters Degree in Addiction. Well I had to drop out due to pregnancy, impending divorce and other factors, but have silently longed and yearned to return to it, so a few weeks ago I figured “sod it” and reapplied.

this was the out come:

confirmation of place on course

Bi What?

This is a copy of a blog I wrote for a Bisexual Bipolar site which is new, but thought Id share here too:

Battling multiple identities can and is complex, there is always a niggle at the back of my head when meeting new people as to just how open about life to be.  Do they need to know my complicated history of mental ill health? Do they need to know I’m pansexual, gender fluid and polyam? It will become clear I’m a parent but does it need to be said out loud? Or are or is there a way of keeping these things contained, bit like the elusive round peg fitting snug in a round hole, only I am not a round peg and my life is far from a round hole, instead it is a star shaped peg trying its hardest to be transparent with life, as why hide what is intrinsic and by denying it to those whom matter is denying it to me.

Childhood plagued with attraction to humans, genitals or wanted genitals had no impact on the attraction, just people as a whole fascinated and still do send me off day dreaming to what could potentially be, and how will they perceive me?  Will they get to know the hyper, energiser bunny? Or the on the floor taking all energy just to sit and rock when the depths of depression creep in, whilst the whole time riding the wave of pansexuality and the non-conforming to heterosexual and monogamy idealogy.  As years passed names and terms begun to feature, they made sense, but bipolar why that, am I a bear disguised as a human, for I knew of human bears and fairly confident I don’t meet their requirements.  And Bisexual didn’t work as gender is a spectrum, certainly not binary so why make me choose a side to which my attraction lay?

Mid 20s, attending Bi-Con for the first time, realising hey its ok I am me, I am valid, and others like me exist, they will embrace me for me and to hell with mainstream society this is heaven on earth and I don’t want its tranquillity and self-care to end, only to be on a downer when it did, counting days till the next 4 days with epic humans who got the real me, unmasked and unfocused.

But then just as I found self-acceptance back into the closet I was forced, bolts on, rope shackled to failing limbs as parenting begun.  Asked at stay and plays “what does your husband do” whilst muttering to myself “rot in hell as he was a violent pig, feeble excuse of a human none I am glad to be shot of” hiding choosing not to disclose the then female with me was in fact my girlfriend at the time as the boy I was regularly with was also my boyfriend, how to explain this when raised as an Orthodox Jew, it’d certainly get the community talking for all the wrong reasons.

Time passed and we come to the present day, mental wealth is slowly once more rebuilding, a solid group of friends who get me for me, they embrace the star peg and avoid at all costs attempting to get it to conform, the summers bring solace and Bi-Con once more, my daughter is 6, aware her parent is hers, but different to many, yet due to the naivety and innocence of childhood takes it in her stride.

Life might be days of highs, weeks of lows, but the intrinsic fabric is there, no shits who knows, I am Lea, I am Pansexual, Polyam, Bipolar and won’t fit as a round peg in your hole for you nor anyone and for the most part I am loved and cared for by my chosen village and they are epic.

Medication (or lack of)

So, yesterday ICS (Intensive Care Service) were supposed to bring me more medication at noon. It is now nearly 2pm the next day so 3 doses of medication missed.

The Psychiatrist whom came out for the planned visit told me “as you are on 2 controlled drugs issued by us their wasn’t anyone else around to sign them out so someone will bring them later today”. Ok fair enough.

Fast forward to 8pm and a good worker who has been phenomenal is on the phone informing me shehas searched not only their building but the one next door and no sign of any medication for me and someone will flag it in the meeting this morning and Il get a call back around 11am.

11am came n went so I rung them at 1pm, nearly a hour ago, they are now going to phone me back so sat waiting for pharmacy to bring general meds and ICS to bring 3 different ones.

Who says being a mental health service user isn’t rock and roll!

But it does ask the question where are the meds that the shrink was supposed to bring, where did they go?

Easter Break (catch up)

It was beautiful, we were awake at 430am, left Leeds at 5am for Great Yarmouth to meet up with Chris (my partner) 2 girls from his previous relationship, his parents, his sister, her husband and their 2 girls. So all 11 of us had a wonderful time on the beach and in the arcades, laughing and joking enjoying ourselves living life as it should be making memories as a family.

all 11 of us
Left to Right, Phil (Chris’ dad) Margaret (Chris’ mum) Raf (bro in law) LeiLei on his knee, Chris, me sat on his knee, Nancy, Fiona in front, Jemima (my 6 year old), Maya and Claire (sis in law)

Love Yet Hate Disability

I love yet hate disability.

Bit of a bold statement to make you may think, as what is their to love about a world not geared up for those of us who fail to see as the sighted world can and does?

Thanks I guess to the severity of my KC I associate more as someone who is blind in a once sighted world, but take away the KC and I am still disabled due to Fibromialgia and ME not to mention surviving several mental illnesses.

Take away the battles I face, be it magnifying iwth a 20x mirror to do make up, or a hobble holding 2 banisters to safely get down the stairs on a morning to make my daughter breakfast, or battling deliberating anxiety just to do the school run, would I be me?

whilst disability doesn’t define me, it is often the first thing people notice about me is a cane in my hand n wondering why iv a slight limp, struggle with eye contact and appear to be “away with the fairies” wrapped in my internal world to protect me from the judgement of the sighted, able bodied, sane headed views and perceptions or should that be misconceptions of those whov no idea just how much energy it takes to function, to even type this post.

Yet being disabled has its perks, queue jumping at theme parks, 2 for 1 at the cinema and live music, been able to get upgrades on flights, front row seats to plays my daughter does at school and plenty more.

Disability is what you make of it, after all as someone famous once said “the only disability in life is a bad attitude” which in turn makes me question and ponder which parts of me and intrinsic, which are due to the cards life dealt to me and which would I not be me if I didn’t live with. Yes at times it gets me down and frustrates the hell out of me, but for the most of the time, watch out world I might be disabled but damn it has opened my eyes far more than many would realise n given me a deeper level of empathy than many would comprehend.

Live life, enjoy it, learn from the obstacles and remember you are able to educate through experience and that is what matters, if you don’t learn from it how can you expect others to comprehend how it is for you n those like you?