"When I was 16 or 17 I started to push friends away. I was happier spending time alone. Sometimes I was hyper, but more often totally silent. I moved around a few schools. My parents just thought I was difficult."
In hindsight, Peter McDonough (29) can recognise the early symptoms of manic depression, but at the time nobody - least of all himself - guessed that he wasn't just another troublesome teenager, going through "a phase".
Things got worse when he went to study auctioneering at the College of Art, Commerce and Technology in Limerick: "I was stuck in bed. I lost a stone in a few weeks. The lads I was living with couldn't believe it: normally I'm vocal and I like a bit of fun. I went from being mad about my girlfriend to not caring about her, overnight. I thought it was exam pressure."
He left college without sitting his exams: "I was very withdrawn, hanging around the house in my pyjamas, not wanting to do anything. I got into a routine of being up all night.
"My parents weren't sure where to turn. I'm adopted, and there is no history of manic depression in their families, so they couldn't recognise the symptoms. It just seemed to them that I was a right handful."
When he was low, he would be "too scared to answer the phone or go to the local shop. I'd be wondering what would I say, how would I look". Highs were worse: "It was very unpleasant. I was confused; there'd be a lot of tears. I went on spending sprees. Luckily I didn't have enough money to do much damage. I bought stuff I didn't need, that I had already, like a CD player and a camera. "I caused a lot of trouble because when I was high I would say things directly to people instead of tactfully. It was easy to be destructive and create enemies."
Eventually he went to a local doctor, who referred him to Dr Patrick McKeon, a consultant psychiatrist at St Patrick's Hospital in Dublin and Chairman of AWARE (the national support group for depression). He went into St Patrick's for four weeks, after which Dr McKeon diagnosed manic depression.
Peter was still not conscious of being ill: "I was in denial, saying `I'm grand, all the rest in here are sick but not me'." Accepting the diagnosis took time: "After coming out of hospital I started going to AWARE meetings and I felt better. I'd be meeting people who were like me but who were in their 60s and had been well for 40 years."
It took four years for him to find stability: "I lost those years. I had no craic, no work, no girlfriends - I was in and out of hospital, trying to get the medication right. Sometimes I'd say `there's nothing wrong with me' and go off the Lithium and then I'd be back in hospital again."
He tried to commit suicide three times, getting very drunk and overdosing on tablets: "The first two times weren't very serious, more a cry for help. But the third time was really frightening. My parents didn't find me for 12 hours, and I was unconscious when they brought me into hospital. They told me I had taken enough to die, but the more likely scenario was that my kidney could have collapsed.
`IT'S not a nice feeling, wanting to do something like that. It's a horrible and lonely feeling. The worst thing is that it was only a fleeting feeling. If I had died, it would have been for nothing. It would have been a mistake. But I met a lot of people in hospital who have since killed themselves. I'm lucky to be around, really. I'm lucky not to be on a dialysis machine."
He dates his recovery to three years ago: "I finally accepted the illness. Then I moved out of home and got a job as a piano salesman. And two years ago, I met Maeve." He now manages a shop for Pianos Plus in Temple Bar: "I haven't had one sick day at work for three years. My relationship with Maeve is improving all the time." He is now allowing himself to consider the possibility of having children: "The risk of inheriting my illness is slim, but if I did have a kid with manic depression, I'd at least have a fair old insight into the problem."
He notes that early detection of his illness would have saved a lot of grief and expense all round. "It's hard, because depression is the invisible illness. The young person looks healthy. He might have a lot going on in his head that he can't talk about. It isn't easy for him to admit he's depressed, even to his friends. There's such a stigma. But if you can get treatment early you can prevent a lot of damage."