I'm Siân, I'm 34 and I'm married to Gareth. We have two beautiful dogs, Rupert and Henry and live in a nice semi-detached house in a nice area. Sounds lovely. Sounds normal. Like everyone else in our street. But then most people don't come home to find 16 pints of milk in the fridge all labelled, "God's Milk". My husband thought he was God, that Rupy and Hen were his disciples and as he didn't want anyone drinking his milk he labelled it. There is a logic in that I suppose.
Gareth loves milk. He downed 4 pints once in the alleyway by the shops. A passerby asked him if he was enjoying it. He replied, "I like milk". "Why don't you go home and drink it?" asked the man, "My wife will kill me" said Gareth. Gareth also loves wolves, music, his clarinet, his family, pizza, drinking tea, smoking. Gareth is also ill most days. He's what you would call a complex mental health case, presenting with various symptoms of bipolar, borderline, dependent and avoidant personality disorders. Rarely a day goes by without seomthing happening. So much so that I don't mention most of it to anyone as I feel it would be all I talked about. But I do need to talk about it. It's my life why should I keep it to myself.
So here is "God's Milk" - me talking about my life living with a loving someone in pain.