Bees in My Head

By Bronwyn Niemack

Bees in my head seeks to unravel the truth about a debilitating disorder - Bipolar Mood Disorder. Bipolar is a mental illness characterised by highly disruptive mood swings that are often misinterpreted as attention seeking. The highs and lows are explored whilst shedding light on the suffocating sadness of the condition. The condition is a demon that causes significant struggle and frustration for those affected. Suicide attempts are a real cry to escape the misery of a constant dark cloud. Society often frowns upon the abnormal behaviour leaving the sufferer feeling judged and disconnected. Whilst giving insight into Bipolar and its strangulating reality, it provides understanding and support to those screaming out for help.

“Deeply touching, harrowing and enlightening. I salute the immense courage to document firsthand what a sufferer goes through on a daily basis, thus providing a window through which others can look, to get an inside view of this ravaging mental illness. I think the author’s story will, as intended, help others to better understand the reality, the life and the mind of a person battling daily with Bipolar Mood Disorder. It is sure to leave readers with profound empathy and compassion for all that sufferers have to deal with. This account really packs a powerful punch as the author demonstrates an incredible ability to convey things in a graphic and intense way that makes what she is writing about vividly real to the reader. These words will take you right into the mind and heart of the author.”
-Editor’s comment

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bronwyn Niemack
• Release date: Feb 11, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005133306

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Bees in my Head

Copyright © 2021 Bronwyn Niemack

Published by Bronwyn Niemack publishing at Smashwords

First edition 2021

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or any information storage or retrieval system without permission from the copyright holder.

The Author has made every effort to trace and acknowledge sources/resources/individuals. In the event that any images/information have been incorrectly attributed or credited, the Author will be pleased to rectify these omissions at the earliest opportunity.

Published by Bronwyn Niemack using Reach Publishers’ services,

Edited by Frankie Kartun for Reach Publishers

Cover designed by Reach Publishers

P O Box 1384, Wandsbeck, South Africa, 3631

Website: www.reachpublishers.co.za

E-mail: [e-mail]

Dedication

When everybody grew weary or disappeared, He remained my strength. He held my hand through dark valleys. In the fire, He kept me from burning. I did not drown in the deep waters. I could have been dead, but His love and mercy saved me. I thank God, my maker and saviour for carrying me in the palm of His hand through this difficult journey. To those living with Bipolar, I know your suffering is real, but nothing is too big for God. Hold on. There is hope. My doctor who stayed with me in the fight and never gave up on me, I hold close to my heart the kindness that you showed me.

Acknowledgements

Thank you mum for never leaving my side. Your love, patience and prayers got me through the hardest times. I thank my sister Melissa for never judging me and always being empathic. Michelle and Brendan, thank you for your support even when you didn’t understand. The rest of my family who have stood in the gap and prayed for me, I appreciate your strength when I was weak. ‘I am deeply moved by the love and compassion you have given me and for being a pillar of strength for my mother. Your words of encouragement have sustained her and dragged me through the mud to stable ground. The fight may not be over, but I am most grateful for the hearts that have been true to carrying this load with me.’

Table of Contents

Dedication

Acknowledgements

Anna

Passing of Innocence

Despicable Me

Mr Bipolar

Things Change People Change

Judged by Ignorance

Desperate Measures

A Flower

My Shining Star

Bending the Ruler

The Frenzies

Beauty for Ashes

Chapter One

The skin on her chest peeled, as she tried to scrub the stench of shame from her body. She was losing control. Guilt consumed her and left her a wreck, as her mind rewound and replayed her awful past. What once felt like magic had turned into a nightmare and her only truth - that she was a degradation - pained her. She used to see the reflection of a beautiful young lady when she looked in the mirror, but the shattered image of a stranger looked back at her. Her eyes were sunken and what used to be a starry shine in them was shadowed by an empty darkness. She had lost her loveliness, lost her glow, lost herself. She had once been pure, righteous, confident, selfless and happy with life, but she had reached a place where she didn’t know how to take the next step. She could no longer hide behind the rehearsed smile. Her constant need to impress and pretend that all was well had contributed to wearing her out. The world stands in judgement when you don’t produce that which is expected. Too busy trying to live up to the expectations of others had left her damaged. All she had tried to hide came crashing down on her and she fell apart, splintering like breaking glass. She sat against the wall with her knees drawn up to her chest, her head resting on them. Her raven hair became drenched with tears as she wept - wept with regret for her past mistakes, the people she had hurt and those who had hurt her. She cried about losing herself - losing herself to man after man, alcohol and drugs, losing her dignity and self-respect. She had lost the relationships that had kept her feeling whole and loved. Lonely even in a crowd, her heart bled for her tarnished soul. She sobbed for the love she didn’t have to give. One cannot feed from an empty plate. She screamed at the top of her lungs, but nobody heard. She cried, but nobody felt her pain. No one understood that kind of pain. Dead inside and nobody knew; she mourned the death of her soul as life continued without her. Who can know sorrow if they’ve never felt it? Who can know what it’s like to be dead, without having died? Rejected, yet still looking back. Sleeping, but never asleep. Staring up at the ceiling, from sundown to sunrise. A constant ache drilling in the pit of her core - an ache with no root, yet with branches that kept growing. Overwhelmed with regret, but with no forgiveness for herself. She watered her pain tree, each branch reminding her of all she had done wrong and with no one to hear the desperate cries of imperfection.

She lowered the covers from her face. It was morning, but all she saw was darkness and she still felt tired. She wished the days would become night and the nights darker so that life would continue without her. She wanted to sleep so she wouldn’t have to think, talk or feel. Life was unbearable. Her cheek bones were prominent from the weight loss caused by not eating. Her pyjamas hung loosely on her emaciated body. Her breasts drooped like wet tea bags. There were dark circles around her sunken eyes. Her dirty hair was unkempt and she didn’t pay attention to her personal hygiene. She had no energy to do anything. She hated life and was demotivated to work, play or do anything she used to enjoy. Sadness subdued her, she was hopeless, wishing she was dead. She held up her hands hoping to be delivered as she tried to pray, but the words wouldn’t come out. She grew weary and curled into a foetal position with tears rolling down her cheeks.

There was a knock at the door.