Jane Clough’s dream has always been to live in the country and work as a vet, delivering spring lambs.
Three years ago, the veterinary assistant and her husband, Peter, a builder, made the move from London to a remote village in Wales where they had often brought their five children camping when they were little.
‘I absolutely love our life here,’ says Jane, who’s in her 50s. ‘It’s a dream come true. But at the same time I feel I am living on the edge of a nightmare. Every single day I wake up thinking: ‘Will this be the day my beautiful daughter kills herself?’ ‘
Jane Clough’s eldest daughter, Jennifer (pictured), now 32, has been diagnosed with bipolar disorder. Despite her low self-esteem, she worked as a horticulturist for Brent council and then, at 26, joined the Metropolitan Police and moved into her own flat in Aylesbury, Bucks. In May 2014, Jennifer called the Samaritans after trying to hang herself in her flat
After years of erratic, often irrational behaviour interspersed with periods of severe depression, Jane and Peter’s eldest daughter Jennifer, 32, has been diagnosed with bipolar disorder (previously known as manic depression).
This is characterised by swings between manic episodes, when the patient feels on top of the world, and depressive periods when they are so low that life doesn’t feel worth living.
Jennifer, who worked as a community police officer until 2013, lives in a shed in the garden because she can’t bear to be in the house with her parents.
‘At her worst, she wouldn’t speak, change her clothes or wash for weeks on end,’ says Peter. ‘It was like having a tramp living in the garden. We look at pictures and remember how beautiful she was — she still is to us. It feels almost like a bereavement.’
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Jane respects Jennifer’s privacy and has never stepped foot inside the shed, but a few days ago she hung a heart-shaped sign on the latch that said: ‘Love makes our house a home.’
‘We’d had a bad day,’ says Jane. ‘I wanted to remind her that however awful things feel to her, we love her just the same.’
Over the past 17 years, the family have only been able to watch as Jennifer has spiralled into depression, culminating in her being admitted to a psychiatric unit two years ago after a suicide attempt.
For Jane, like many parents of children with mental illness, it has been particularly hard coming to terms with the fact she can’t ‘make it better’.
‘I’ve always been able to fix my children’s problems,’ she says. ‘But this time I can’t. When Jennifer was admitted to hospital, I felt I’d lost control and it was somehow my fault this had happened.
It took years for Jennifer to be diagnosed — and that was only after her mother suggested it might explain her daughter’s behaviour. In fact, Jennifer was diagnosed first — at the age of 16 — with polycystic ovary syndrome, which led to excessive hair growth and mood swings. Above, file picture
‘I felt completely impotent. Not being able to absorb Jennifer’s pain and make her happy again was — and still is — the hardest thing I’ve ever gone through.’
Family pictures of Jennifer show a happy, healthy child with a mop of blonde hair. She was very much a ‘mother hen’ to her four siblings, Anthony, 31, Robin, 30, Louise, 28, and Elizabeth, 26.
But as Jennifer approached her teens, Jane noticed she was becoming more and more withdrawn and her moods were unpredictable. ‘I put it down to hormonal changes. But one Sunday when she was 15, out of the blue she had what I can only describe as an emotional breakdown.’
She continues: ‘Jennifer was inconsolable, sobbing to the point where she couldn’t catch her breath and was not able to walk on her own.
‘It was shocking, unlike anything I’d ever seen and she was quiet for a few days afterwards.’
One of their dogs had died the week before and Jane thought Jennifer might be upset over that. ‘But actually this was probably the beginning of her illness.’
Bipolar disorder affects one in 100 adults. It usually starts between the ages of 15 and 19.
It can be difficult to diagnose, says a spokesperson for the mental health charity Mind.
‘There are different types of bipolar disorder, and the cycle between manic and low episodes varies from person to person.
‘People are sometimes misdiagnosed with other mental health problems such as depression. It can often take years to get the right diagnosis and treatment.’
This is usually a combination of mood stabilisers, antipsychotic drugs and antidepressants.
It took years for Jennifer to be diagnosed — and that was only after her mother suggested it might explain her daughter’s behaviour.
In fact, Jennifer was diagnosed first — at the age of 16 — with polycystic ovary syndrome (PCOS), a condition that affects millions of women in the UK.
Linked to raised testosterone levels, it can affect menstruation and lead to excessive hair growth on the back, chest and face, weight gain and mood swings.
Looking back, Jane believes PCOS masked the symptoms of Jennifer’s bipolar.
‘I thought I knew what to expect when she became a teenager,’ she says. ‘I thought she’d develop breasts and my incredibly pretty, blue-eyed, blonde little girl would blossom into a woman.’
But the level of testosterone in Jennifer’s body caused her hair to become heavy and lank. She put on weight and developed facial hair she needed to shave daily.
‘By the time she was 16 she was constantly mistaken for a boy,’ says Jane. ‘One Christmas, relatives who hadn’t seen her for a while thought she was her brother’s friend.
‘The pain must have been indescribable. It just broke my heart. As a result, she felt worthless.
‘She hated her body and she hated herself. And at the same time, she was irrational and unpredictable: the whole family felt they were treading on eggshells.’
Despite her low self-esteem, Jennifer worked as a horticulturist for Brent council and then, at 26, she joined the Metropolitan Police and moved into her own flat in Aylesbury, Bucks.
‘She loved her job and was brilliant at it,’ says Jane. ‘But she phoned every night. She was miserable, sad and felt terribly down.’
When she began to call less, Jane assumed it was ‘a good sign’. In fact, Jennifer was becoming increasingly mentally ill.
In May 2014, Jennifer called the Samaritans after trying to hang herself in her flat. She was admitted to a psychiatric unit.
A friend phoned Jane to tell her Jennifer was in hospital.
‘I went cold,’ says Jane. ‘I froze. I couldn’t even decide whether to leave work or finish my shift.’
The sight of her daughter in the psychiatric unit will never leave her. ‘She didn’t speak, she was an empty shell. No matter how much I said ‘Darling, things will get better’, she couldn’t see how.’
Jennifer was diagnosed with depression and given antidepressants. Her parents persuaded her to go home to Wales for a while.
‘She said she couldn’t be with us in the house — she has such a low tolerance to sound that even the microwave beeping causes her to become extremely agitated, so Peter built her the shed.
‘Naively I thought: ‘Mummy will make it better and she’ll be on her feet again in no time.’ In fact, it was months before she’d look at us.’
It was Jane who suspected bipolar disorder after nights spent trawling the internet for answers.
‘I persuaded Jennifer to do a simple test and found she’d scored very highly.’ It was a suspicion the family GP then confirmed.
The emotional impact of Jennifer’s bipolar disorder on the family has been huge. ‘In the past, whenever there’s been a crisis, the children have all stuck together,’ says Jane.
‘For the past few years, that hasn’t happened. Jennifer loves her brothers and sisters dearly, but she doesn’t want to talk to anyone and hasn’t seen them for three years.
‘She has two elderly grandfathers who adore her, but she hasn’t seen them in years. It’s likely they will die without ever seeing her again.’
Jane has nothing but praise for the local medical team looking after her daughter. ‘Jennifer has a fantastic psychiatrist and sees a community psychiatric nurse once a fortnight.
‘She has a job in a charity shop, she’s trying so hard to get better.’
But Jane admits positive moments are few and far between. Jennifer threatens to ‘swing’ herself from the trees almost every day.
Jane sifts through long texts from her daughter on her phone. Full of criticism and confusion, they’re utterly heart-rending.
She can’t bear company, yet she’s lonely. She wants her mother’s help, yet often rejects it. ‘Mum, I love you so much,’ one lengthy diatribe ends. ‘Never forget that.’
‘Some days she needs so much emotional support she sucks me dry,’ says Jane.
‘Other days she’s so angry with me that she shuts herself in the shed and won’t speak for days. It rips my heart out.’
Jane’s agony is palpable — she worries constantly that she’s making things worse. ‘What if I say or do the wrong thing, or push her over the edge?’
Symptoms of bipolar disorder are managed with medication and sometimes psychotherapy. Jennifer, who has had both, continues to say her life is ‘meaningless’.
‘She feels completely useless and unattractive,’ says Jane. ‘She hates herself and she hates her life.’
The last time Jennifer wore make-up was at her brother’s wedding four years ago. Pictures show a gorgeous girl with her mother’s wide-spaced eyes and pixie face.
She’s gained 3st or 4 st since then and lives in hoodies and tracksuit bottoms to hide her shape. ‘When she’s happy she doesn’t comfort eat,’ says Jane.
What makes her happy? She pauses for a moment. ‘Nothing any more. If it wasn’t for her dog and two cats, I think she’d go and live on the street until she dies.’
It’s been a particularly difficult week and Jane looks exhausted.
‘I’d always wanted a garden full of trees,’ she says, unable to hold her tears back. ‘But now I hate them because every one is a potential risk. I wake up every night unable to breathe, thinking: ‘Is this the night she’s going to hang herself?’
‘I have to accept she may not get better. My beautiful daughter, who we love so much, may kill herself.
‘I’ve realised the only way I can cope is to accept that while I would do anything in the world to keep her alive, I may not be able to prevent her ending her own life.’
Some names have been changed. Visit mind.org.uk
For confidential support, call the Samaritans on 116123 or visit a local Samaritans branch, see www.samaritans.org for details.