Tonight I've been watching Stephen Fry: The Secret Life of the Manic Depressive, which was aired on BBC4 as part of their Out of Mind season. This has comprised of the aforementioned programme (in two parts), a programme called She's Been Away (which my Freeview recorder decided not to bother with), a documentary called Sectioned (which was interesting but not gripping) and Mental: A History of the Madhouse, which I'm yet to watch but have high hopes for. The programmes were aired between 17th and 26th May but I am watching them gradually and when I'm feeling stable because otherwise they all have the potential to be triggering.

The Secret Life of the Manic Depressive is not available on BBC iPlayer, which is a shame because it's impossible to get hold of and those who missed its screening on BBC4 probably won't get a second chance to see it. (EDIT: I've lied - it can be bought through Amazon). I absolutely love Stephen Fry, and I admire his candour regarding what he has been through. Bipolar disorder (or manic depression) is one of the few diagnoses I don't have(!) but it was still an interesting watch and there were still things in there that rang true for me. In particular, they were following the story of a girl (whose name I forget) who had been a student at Cambridge when she had her first breakdown; she now can only work part-time due to the severity of her illness. While my story has a happier ending, this phrase from her therapist struck a chord:

She had grown up being seen as exceptional and she felt the illness had taken this away from her.

I have got a cheery weekend planned, involving food, friends and hopefully plenty of sunshine. Hope you all enjoy the weekend whatever it has in store!