So since I'm new here, I reckon I ought to write a blog post introducing myself.

My name is Charlotte, I'm nineteen years old from Manchester, England. I'm a university student and poet - I happen to run a magazine publishing writing and artwork by young people, called Astronaut zine, so if you're interested, pop down a comment and I'll give you some info. I'm studying (unsurprisingly) Creative Writing.

I'm diagnosed as Bipolar Type II with Rapid Cycling (suspected type I as I've been having manic episodes) and currently unmedicated whilst I'm in a stable environment (home). When I get back, mood stabilisers are being discussed (Valproate and Lamotrigine, so if anyone has any experiences with either of these, do get in touch). The past three months have been a bit crazy. In the past two weeks I've found myself sat on my fourth floor roof crushing paracetamol after paracetamol into a glass of vodka and believing my blood has blessed properties respectively. Nothing's particularly easy to understand right now, but I'm trying my hardest to get by without ######6 things up.

It's 3:37am on Christmas morning where I am and I'm a little on the manic side. I couldn't lie next to my sleeping girlfriend feeling as agitated as I did, so now I'm downstairs. I feel like screaming, I feel that full of energy that needs to be out. Nothing is moving fast enough, but I want to hurt myself too. I'm not sure where I'm at right now, but I need to make sure I don't ###$ things up.

I won't ###$ things up.

My name's Charlotte, and if this goes on, I think I might ###$ things up.