I spoke to my sister last night and she was very kind. Much kind than I felt I deserved and that is typical of me when I’m at the wrong end of antisocial behaviour and incredible stress that it begins.

Like a lot of other sisters we don’t always see eye to to but also like a lot of other sisters when one of us or both us have our backs against the wall we are there for one another unconditionally.

We talked about how I felt and while we talked I could feel myself ‘crumbling’ and how the terminology of people trying to show support can contribute to negative feelings.

I write or speak about what is happening to me in a non-specific way, it feels that I’m describing something vague, but at times people believe they know exactly what I’m saying.

I am not fighting a battle, I live with bipolar disorder, I am living with the effects of antisocial behaviour but I am not in the middle of a war with myself, illness or the effects of a situation.

I do not want sympathy as it implies that another person identifies with my situation. Since the way I feel and cope changes throughout my day, hour by hour, nobody can identify with that. We never have the same experiences of someone else so sympathy is misplaced especially when it can suggest a hint of pity. My sister understands this perfectly.

It sounds harsh to almost rail against people who are only trying to help but it is important to remember that the words we say, especially online, aren’t always received with the intentions behind them.

Meanwhile, since I don’t drink alcohol, I raise a cup of Yorkshire tea to my sister.