Darkness Into Lightening

Hi everyone,

I know I’ve not posted in over a year.. I’m sorry. I had one of the most difficult years, in which I was in hospital more than I was out of it.. I was admitted a total of 5 times, 4 of which under a section 2, which is basically a hold for up to 28 days.. I have lots of posts to write about all this.. And I will do a proper update soon..

But this post is more about my sponsored walk..

Tomorrow I’m taking part in a walk to raise awareness for suicide and self harm. It’s a 5km walk/run, I’ll be walking, and it starts at 4am. It’s called darkness into dawn.

Anyway, just a quick hello really. I will post more again I promise.

Thank you for all those that have supported me! Stay strong everyone!


Change of scenery 

Morning all,

I’ve been isolating myself again. But at the same time I’ve been looking for work.. I can’t seem to find a job though. But then, who would want to have someone like me work for them..? I don’t really have any qualifications.. Or experience in anything but cooking. 

I need a change of scenery. I wish I could move somewhere else. Go somewhere. See something new. I’m so tiered of my life. But anything like that costs money.. Money I don’t have. I’m just tiered of life. 

Reliant on services..?

So last week I had the worse session in therapy I’ve had in a very long time. I came home crying, and haven’t really been able to stop myself from self-destruction since. 

My theapist made a comment about how, because I’ve been in and out of mental health services for the past 6 years or so, I’ve become reliant on them. This made me feel like an attention seeker. Someone whose using up services when there’s people that need it more, that could benefit from it more than me. It’s made me feel selfish. But more importantly, it’s made me feel like I’ll never get better. Since Christmas time I’ve been getting worse.. My bulimia’s gotten bad again, and I’ve been self harming again.. Plus a lot of suicidal thoughts and stuff.. Well, that’s only been this past week but still. 

The therapy I’m getting at the moment is running out. I’ve got 3 more sessions left.. And then I’ll be discharged. From everyone. It’s ironic really, considering last year I decided I would really attempt on getting ‘better’. I quit college, because that’s what was adviced by the eating disorder service. I really wanted to get better. For a long time I thought if i got the right type of help, I’d be able to get myself out of this hole that I’ve dug myself into. Here in England, or at least where I am, you can only be under one service, which basically means you can only be treated for one issue. I’ve been with the eating disorder service for last few months, which means that I can’t talk to them about my self harm, BPD, or anything depression/anxiety related. I was told when I first saw them that if I did admit to re-lapsing with my self harm and stuff I’d become too high risk for them, and I’d be discharged.. This has already happened to be previously.. So I’ve not been telling them stuff.. until a few weeks ago, when my support worker saw me, and said she’d call and explain things.. Which was good in a way, because it meant at least they knew now.. But it’s led to this. This mess.

I’ve learned this week that i won’t get the help I need. Yes, maybe I am a bit ‘reliant’ on the support from people outside of my real life. Professionals who can talk me down from doing stuff to myself, help me find healthier ways on dealing with problems. But I don’t understand why, someone with a mental health probelm is made to feel like it’s they’re fault. For getting unwell, for the things they say, the things they do, and if and when they do get help, if that help doesn’t help it’s because we don’t try had enough, we like the attention.. If someone with a physical problem doesn’t react with the treat they’re receiving, they wouldn’t blame the person, they’d try and change the treatment. If they’ve got more than one issue, that sometimes interlink, they would try and treat them together. Not one problem at a time. 

Anyway, I’m rambling again. As usual really. I’m really struggling with dark thoughts. I’ll never get better. I’ll never feel happy. I’ll never be able to eat without feeling guilty, making myself sick after, or walking x amount to cancel out x amount of calories.. Just feel like it’s not worth it anymore. I’ve tried to ask for help, hell I’ve gotten help and it’s not worked. I’m struggling now, more than ever. 

A little about me

Okay, so I know I have already done something similar, but I think it’s time I update this a little. 

Last year was difficult. One of my best friends died due to a combination of factors, her mental illness (she struggled with a few) and a complete let down in her care. Well in my option.

Last year my gran had a stroke and has since been near enough bed-ridden, meaning my dad has hardly been able to come to England. My sister graduation university, studying medicine, and I started my part time course in Pastry. Last year I had some input from services with my personality disorder, but only a little, and this year I fought to get back into therapy for my eating disorder (I’ve been formally diagnosed with Bulimia, although I still find it difficult to come to terms with it all)

Anyway, so I am now 23 years old. I’m a female who lives just outside of London. I am still working on a better relationship with my family, we are slowly getting there, well, mostly. I have an older sister (but we rarly talk) a younger brother, who’s relationship is slowly improving and both my parents. My dad works in Germany, my mum here in England, I live alone due to a big variety of factors, and that’s okay. 

I compelled my level 2 pastry course in June.. Well only just. I had relapsed quit badly and very almost ended my life.. My eating got out of hand (when was it ever normal though..) 

I’m still in therapy for my eating.. Here in England you’re put on a waiting list, I waited for about 3 months, which is not that bad, in other places in this country people wait over a year. I was given 24(?) I think (?) sessions, and I now only have 10(?) sessions left.. Roughly. I’m not too sure. In between this my therapist has changed.. Great, as if it wasn’t hard enough opening up to one person. 

I was due to go back to college in September.. Well I did go back.. But only for a little while. I know I need to work on my eating, and I think being in that environment was making it worse, so I had to make a decision. Take some time out, get stronger and hopefully return a better person, or continue, get worse, and probably need more time off in the long term. Of course it wasn’t that simple, and I was heart broken. I love the work, and I know it’s what I want todo in my life, but I’m not ready yet. 

So, that’s what I’m trying to do. I want to write my stuff here. I don’t care if nobody reads. I think it’s more to document things, and have an outlet for myself. Im planning on writing a few political stuff.. Well my views on them.. Some life stuff. Therapy… A bit of everything I hope. I’d like to raise some awareness along the way. Even help make people less alone.. If I can.
Sending love to you all. Stay strong. x

Re-starting this..? 

Hi all, I am thinking of re-starting, whatever this is.. I guess an insight to my life.. I am still unsure, and am currently reading some of my old posts to see where/how to go about it all. I am working on it. Please bear with me. I have lots to say and this seems a good place as any to start. 

Things ending

Hi again,

So, this week has taken everything out of me. The fog inside my head is unbearable.
Last week Wednesday I had my last eating disorder group.. This made me feel even worse. Even though I will still be getting support for my eating.. And I’m still on a waiting list for individual therapy for it, everyone at the group was saying how much they had benefitted and are getting better.. And there was me, just as confused as the beginning.
Then Monday I had my last day at college. All my friends are really happy that I’ve completed this course.. The first I’ve completed in over 5 years.. Even my work said how proud they are of me.. But I’m not. I’m disappointed in myself. I didn’t do this apprenticeship the way I was supposed to, the way I planned.. How can I be proud of not working for over 6 months..?!

Anyway, this has, yet again pushed me back down.. I’ve been ignoring home treatment.. Well they were cutting my visits down to twice weekly anyway.. But I’ve not spoken to anyone from them since Sunday.. My own fault. I know it’s selfish.. But I don’t want to face everyone. I’m too ashamed of myself.. Too embarrassed. I’m scarred that they’re going to think that I’m doing better and discharge me.. So I’m even more alone then already am. I need more help at the moment.. Not less.

Anyway, that’s all for today. Thank you for reading.

Stay strong. ❤️

Just a lot of words

here I am, sitting alone, thinking. I recently red a book, which has given me a lot to think. It was a story about a girl with cancer. She fell in love with a boy who used to have cancer but was in long remission. To keep the story short he died and she didn’t.
It gave me a lot to think about. It reminded me of how short life really is. But more than that, everyone has, at some point in their lives struggled. Whether it be with a long standing illness, seeing someone go through an illness, family problems, money problems.. the list is endless. Needless to say I have had my fair (or unfair) share of experiences, heartaches and trouble, some of which I still struggling with to this day. I know many of us out there always hang on to the little bit of hope that we can. The hope that one day, this big scary world will give us some form of meaning. Some form of understanding. I am at the stage now however, where understanding is little. Meaning is just not there. I have fallen victim of what Londers call ‘The Rat Race’ every day seeming to be the same. Wake up, rush to get the bus, then the underground, when it is not striking, get into work and get changed.. then a good ten hours of work, followed by shower, train, bus and bed, just to awaken and have the same day again tomorrow. I am not someone who is scarred to admit that I suffer with mental health difficulties. Days for me at the moment are extremely hard. I struggle with what most people can manage without any hesitation. Facing another day for example. I fear mornings. Every morning a sense of doom lingers in my mind. I have to mantra every morning ‘Just another day, you can do it, just one day’ I count down the minutes until the next time I can go back to bed. Bed is where I feel safe. I can’t make any, or at least very few mistakes there.
Mistakes. This is a word that for me causes a lot of anxiety and stress. I have made a large amount of mistakes, which have caused, not only myself, but my whole family difficulties. I have done things which have effectively ended my relationship with my sibblings, and has changed the in entire dynamic of our family life. I know I can not undo the things that I have done, but boy if I could.. This, for me, makes any mistake that I make extremely difficult to deal with. Something so simple as dropping something like a cup of tea results in my mind playing havoc. ‘See, You can’t even do that right.. How are you going to do anything with your life..’. yes, most people would see this as a big overegageration, and maybe it is.. but I am not in control of what my mind comes up with. I am not afraid to admit that I make many mistakes throughout the day.. be it I forget my phone charger, I make a mistake at work, I forget to do something at work, I say something wrong to a friend.. Or worse of all, I realise that a friend is struggling and I can not do anything for them. Hearing the voice telling me that I am not good enough, that I will never be good enough, that I will always be a disappointment and that I might as well be dead is heart breaking.
Now, hearing it over and over every day is so soul destroying that it has caused me to act out in ways I m not proud of. I self harm, I stop eating, and when things get very bad I overdose. I feel like I do not deserve to be alive.
Reading books about people that suffer with physical problems brings up a lot of admiration to those people. Even if they are not based on a true story, I know that, somewhere out there, there is someone who is struggling with similar problems. In my experience, books on mental health are very few. People that have suffered in those ways are most likely just too afraid to write about it. I know, form experience the stigma that people face. ‘There are starving people in Africa and you are chosing not to eat.. There are people so much worse of than you.. Just get up and do some exercise, theres nothing like those endorphins.. have you looked into laughter classes..’ yes, all things that have been said to me, all as usless as telling a blind person to ‘just read’ or a wheelchair bound person to ‘Just get up’.. Telling someone with depression to ‘Just be happy..’ or something similar just DOESN’T WORK!! If you think waking up and wishing you were dead is nice or easy to get out of you are very much mistaken.
I am in any case struggling do not know where I am going with this piece of writing. People survive cancer, earthquakes, wars, and mental health difficulties. But why is it that people with cancer or diabetes or back problems or any other physical problem can speak openly about their difficulties and people with mental heal can’t…? you don’t look at a person with a broken leg and think ‘How did they do that.. Stupid person they should have known better and taken more care of themselves..’ So why should someone look at someone who has, like myself, scars on their arms, and think ‘that stupid person.. did they not know that it was wrong for them to do that.. they are so attention seeking.. they really should stop that..’ Another thing that puzzles me is the fact that people do not take mental health seriously in England. Whether that is because of the cuts across the NHS, or something I do not understand. I have been, on many an occasion sat in A&E waiting rooms after self harm, or feeling suicidal, made to wait for hours, to be seen and sent home, yet when someone does actually end their lives you hear things like ‘I wish they spoke more about their pain..’ Is a bit hypocritical.. when someone does speak and does not get heard.. Do you think they will continue o speak or, at some point, like I have give up on asking for help…
Isn’t it funny that you see so few adults with those kind of scares.. I wonder, is that because they were a happier generation, or did they just not make it to this day because their demons took over…? I am in fear of letting my demos take over.. I sit here and wonder.. ‘Is it all really worth it.. Will things ever get better..’ The thought that always haunts me is ‘When I die.. and everyone will eventually die.. will I be remembered…?’
The sun is setting, meaning another day over.. I wonder, do we waste our lives. Yes, famous people or royalty will always be remembered.. but the hom drum of other human lives that exist.. who will remember those..? I feel like I am a grenade, at some point I am going to explode and I want to minimize the causalities. I just want to stay away from people and read books and think and be by myself because I am just a grenade and I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore.

If you have read all of this.. Well done.. Thank you for reading. x