Happy Birthday to Me!

Heyyyy

Here is my first post of 2021, I’m sorry it took so long. I’ve been trying to get the posts sorted but it’s been so difficult to write down how I’ve been feeling. I’m furious how long it’s taken to sit down and write this, even more so that I’m currently writing this four hours before I turn twenty-two- here we go…

Birthdays are so important to me, I guess that’s something I never really talk about or explain. Around my 11th birthday my anorexia was pretty rough, I was breaking, and my therapist and doctor sat me down and told me about the long-term consequences. I was struggling to gain energy and my days were occupied revising for private school 11+ exams, I kept how I was a secret. I got told at the age of 11 that I might never have children, there is nothing I ever expected to hear especially not at such a young age.

Since my eleventh birthday I’ve spent every year trying to make up for that one day. Every year I cry on my birthday, it’s become a perfect tradition and I’m wondering if my 22nd will be the year to break it. (I’m writing this the night before my birthday- so really, it’s anyone’s guess to what happened). I always spend my birthday with my friends or family, ever since I was born and for the first year, I won’t be doing that, and it feels like I’m cheating the whole system. It’s almost as if I am trying to speed up the process of growing up so it’s over quicker.

I spent my whole youth trying to grow up, get out of the metaphoric hell that was high school and by the time I’d become an adult most of my memory had faded and I struggled to remember anything but the memories that still keep me up at night. Every birthday to me was another step towards being old enough to live my life by myself, how I wanted, and I couldn’t have been more wrong. My 19th birthday was the first year I did my birthday away from my family, I was in Plymouth at university and I remember genuinely missing our family traditions- I didn’t get to sit at the bottom of my parents’ bed and open all my cards and presents surrounded by the cats and my family. I spent my 20th and 21st birthday at home with them to make up for my 19th.

The problem with getting older is you drift, and tradition loses its power- things that were so important become mediocre and you get on with what’s going on in your own life forgetting how things were when you grew up. I’m cautious of the fact that I’m on the border of full-adulthood, I’m getting closer and closer to finding a career that will drive me to being the woman I’ve dreamt of and I’m getting closer and closer to moving away from my hometown- to leaving London and to being happy to do so.

I wasted my teenage years growing old, despite what people say I matured before I left school. I’ve not matured since I left high school and began university because I had no reason to mature, life knocked me about since and I’ve learnt a lot, but nothing has forced me to grow up. I always find it quite ironic that after trying to kill myself five times I can have such a fear of death but in a way, it explains why I never succeeded, part of growing old is accepting that death could be on your doorstep at any point. I don’t want to look back on my life and think I wasted years growing up so I could live to be terrified to live for fear of death. Every experience I have, everything that has happened to me has happened for a reason and without all of it, including the trauma, I don’t think I will have become the woman I am now. The incredible woman I am now.

I always had some huge plan for my life, I expected by this age I’d be in a relationship getting engaged. Planning some sort of future with a house in the near future and kids. Life had different plans for me; I am happy though. I don’t know if I’ll ever be a relationship person, perhaps the right person will come along but if it doesn’t, I’m okay. Before I turn 23, I will be living in a different country (Scotland but still), I’ll be living alone, hopefully working and a masters graduate working on her PhD. This is my future; my future isn’t some make believe fairy tale where you find your prince charming and spend the rest of your life being mediocre. My future is big, and it includes adopting (I will be joining the adoption list before I turn 25 and I can’t wait to be a mum), owning my own house before 30 (doing a PhD for the following 6 years has pushed that back from the goal of 25) and maybe some surprises along the way. 

Most importantly though I beg the following years bring mental wellness. I’m sure that my luck isn’t going to magically change and that things won’t continue to cloud me and my life, but I don’t want to spend my time dwelling on it anymore. I spent so many years depressed, and I still am. I can’t even explain how infuriating it is to be consistently drained with yourself and your mind, I just want it gone. I want to be some miracle recovery story but it’s not as easy as that. There is no miracle recovery story, you get one life and I’m not planning on losing it to my depression. 

I hope in my clouded brain I managed to portray how my growing older isn’t terrifying, the more you spend thinking about how terrible it’ll be the more it’ll become. In times of harshness and especially through coronavirus I’ve often found it calming to remember that we are on this earth to die, we are not living but mere waiting to die. It’s how we choose to spend that time that makes our life complete, me I choose to spend it making memories with my friends and family. I choose to make something of the trauma I’ve put up with and allowed to swallow me whole. 

So, with that complete here is my birthday post. In the words of Taylor Swift – I don’t know about you, but I am feeling 22. 

Also, quick edit before posting, we cried on our 22nd birthday. It was a positive cry though, I’m so grateful for my friends and family making today my favourite birthday in a long time. 

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Welcome to 2021…

Heyyy

This is my last post in 2020 and I’m incredibly shocked and proud. I’ve had this blog for five months now and all I’ve shared has meant so much. I’ve had a few bits of negativity from this, but it’s mainly been positive, I’m so grateful for both the negative and the positive, it’s not the negative which motivate me but make me remember how far I’ve come. I had people, mainly teachers, who told me I’d never make it. They told me not to bother applying for a degree as I wasn’t worth their time, I’d end up working in McDonalds for the rest of my life (nothing against McDonalds- I was working there in my final year).

I spoke in an earlier post how 2021 for me isn’t about setting unrealistic resolutions, I want to make goals that’ll make me happy and I’m almost certain this is the year I finally manage that.  

Every year I have a great resolution about doctor’s appointments, it’s one that I regularly get made fun of for. I promise myself only five appointments a year and most the time I feel like a failure for not managing it. That doesn’t make sense those, looking after my health and being on top of everything that happens to my body has helped me massively. There are countless times when I’ve ignored aspects of pain or swelling and ended up on tablets for weeks. This year that changes, if I need an appointment, I will make one. My health is one of the most important things, both mental and physical and as I get older and older that’s the thing, I need to remember the most. This year is about keeping myself safe and at a time of a global pandemic health is such an important thing to remember. I wish nothing but safety and health for all of you and myself, keep yourselves safe.

I promise myself yearly I’ll make a show of turning up to therapy weekly/bi-weekly but I’m finally at a point in my life where I don’t need to be at therapy often. I still need therapy and I probably always will, I’m dealing with a lot of unspoken trauma and one day I’m sure it’ll all come out and I’ll have to deal with it. But I don’t need to speak weekly, I don’t need to set little goals like talking about my feelings because I do. I don’t shy away from my feelings anymore and I don’t hide them from those I love- my mental health is no longer a solo-problem and for the first time in my life I’m genuinely pleased to have people along for the journey. 

This year I haven’t seen my friends often, my hope for 2021 is a lot more time with them and maybe even a holiday alongside them. When I begin my PhD that’ll be my first step to adulthood including a job and moving out properly, and the truth is that means I’m leaving London and though I’m sure I won’t lose them I’ll be miles away from my friends. Even in a different country to them all. 2021 is about keeping my friends, letting them know they are loved and appreciated. I don’t get to speak to my friends daily, we are all very busy people, but I appreciate every second I get with them. They are the most incredible beings ever. 

I want to travel, I always put it on my resolutions and as I get closer and closer to my goal of 30 countries before 30, I need to learn how to manage things alone. I would love to see a lot of places and at one point that is going to mean me travelling alone. I need to get more comfortable with eating alone and looking after myself. That’s not a goal for this year but more something long-term, I’ve never really had to do things by myself as I’m continuously around people but I’m getting to the point in my life where I will have to learn to spend time by myself without it making me depressed.

This year I want to laugh, I want to watch more shows and films that will make me laugh. I want to feel continuous joy and not have to force myself to feel positivity. I want to read and learn how to knit; I never get a chance to read but I love it. I’ve always wanted to learn how to knit also but never went through with learning as I was too busy. I want to sit and write a CV which lists why I am a perfect candidate for a job without feeling like I’m scamming someone- I want to know and believe that I am worthy of success. I want to pass my masters; I want to write an amazing dissertation with a much more successful organisation schedule than my previous dissertation.

I want to go back to the Åland islands this summer and make some memories, see my family, eat some amazing food and experience a world other than the one I live in. I obviously won’t be going if it is not safe to do so, because I truly couldn’t deal with the stress of hurting anyone especially my family. But if I learnt anything from my six-week stint there this summer I missed out a lot on not appreciating it; growing up I was so obsessed with social media and life that the idea of spending time in the middle of nowhere didn’t appeal to me at all. The older I got the more I loved the isolation that the island gave me and once again- I LOVE THE FOOD. I could eat my bodyweight in cinnamon buns and it still wouldn’t be enough. 

Summer 2021 is the start of my future, I will be moving to Dundee and starting the future I’ve always dreamt of. A future of getting my doctorate and working a job that’ll make me incredibly happy. When I failed at dying, I used to sit there and wonder why I am still here, like why didn’t it work. I’m not a religious person, at all, but I like to think that it’s because I’m meant to be here. There’s something that I’m supposed to do, to manage before I pass and hopefully as the years follow, I’ll find my purpose. 

This blog has helped me incredibly amounts; I’m putting across feelings just short of 2 to 3 years ago barely ten people knew about. My pain and trauma for all those years has barely been touched on but I have so much more to touch on over time and I can’t wait to share it with you all. I feel like just having the viewers I have each post is an achievement as to begin with I truly believed the only purpose of me doing this blog was to read it myself and remember how far I’ve come. I’m almost twenty-two and I’ve been battling my mental health since I was eight, this isn’t the start or the end of my journey but the start of my life. I wasted my teenage years being depressed, I spent so much time hiding and pretending to be someone I wasn’t and now I just want to be me. I won’t apologise for being who I am, for being open about my mental health or looking out for myself, my friends and my family over anyone else. I appreciate what I have and no longer put so much into forcing myself into someone I am not and instead become the person I am meant to be. 

So, here’s to 2021, a year I find a home and pursue something I dreamt of since I was a stupid child. I hope you all have a lovely New Years, see you in the New Year.

December

Heyyyy

It’s a bit late again, I’ve been so busy as most people are around December, but it’s been such a good month I can’t wait to update you all. It is also the last month of 2020, which is incredible- I am so excited for it to be over. 

This month has been about Christmas, which coincidentally is my favourite time of the year. My anxiety does usually heighten, and seasonal depression does hit HARD however, I love Christmas food and I love the family time. This year has been a bit more difficult as since moving to Carlisle I’ve been desperate to see my bestfriends and tier 4 has made that incredibly difficult to do so, other than for a walk of course. I go back to Carlisle in a week and I’ve seen one friend for about an hour, and it truly isn’t helping my mental health. It’s not their faults, or mine, just life isn’t working at the moment. 

University – I got my first grade back and despite having a breakdown as I assumed, I’d failed I did really well. It’s a miracle. I’ve just finalised my dissertation topic too which I’m so excited to write. Group projects are often difficult and there was slight friction which led to some anxiety-fuelled breakdowns as I blamed myself for everything that happens. I wasn’t to blame and I’m still not, but I can’t help myself from overthinking everything that happens. I’ve been smashing through my PhD proposal also, and it’s incredible to think that in less than a year I’ll be beginning something I’ve spent my whole life waiting for. 

Family – I’ve gotten to spend so much time with my family recently and it’s been incredible. Though my sister drives me insane, it’s so nice to spend some time together. I’m definitely grateful to have this time together, more than ever this year has been so important to be grateful for not only what was under the tree but the people around. I wanted to be away on the island but for the safety of both us and family I’m happy to wait till it’s safe enough to do so. 

Diet – I’ve lost some weight. I’ve also probably put it back on over Christmas. I’ve made some plans for losing weight in the New Years and truly I’m going to stick to them because I’m ready to lose it again. I’ve got some big challenges ahead and 2021 will be the year for me, I promise myself that. Even if my mental health flares again I’m working on myself this upcoming year. 

Friends – as aforementioned I miss my friends a lot. They know I love them though, and I’m grateful for them always. It’s also nice as I celebrate Christmas a day early and when my friends wish me early, I just get these insane amounts of love and I can’t explain it in other ways. They truly are incredible people. 

Health – I’ve finally got a cream for my spots but as they are stress spots, I don’t see them fully going anytime soon. I had a terrible allergic reaction yesterday and I’m still confused as to what it was, but we’ll work it out. I’m still due a period as well, I don’t know when it will come to be completely honest. It’s been a few months but I’ve only had 3 periods this month so it’s nothing uncommon. 

Miscellaneous – I’m starting my volunteering in January and I’m so excited, this is so different to what I’ve ever done. It’s been so difficult finding something that makes me feel complete, I really feel like I can get so much out of this whilst helping someone else. I’ve dyed my hair blue too so that’s fun, I’ve really been enjoying all the colours and I’m ready now after this to go back to a natural brown and maybe get another piercing- sorry mum. 

2021 begins in 3-ish days, 2021 is about a fresh start. I’ve been so lucky that in a year where completely horrific things could’ve happened; I still had a half decent year. I worked out my future and it has been over a month since my last therapy session and I’ve been doing alright even without. I can’t wait to share the progress I’ve made even if it is slow progress. I visited Dundee and I can genuinely say that I’ve made the completely correct decision for my future, this is my future. I’ll be 22 by the time my January recap comes out and this year I’ll be celebrating my birthday in a completely different way. It’ll be difficult but I need to get prepared and used to being alone. 

Thank you for the support. I love you all. 

Why 2020 has been terrible…

Heyyy everyone

I began writing this post a week ago then I fell into a state of anxiety and couldn’t finish it. I wanted to but I truly didn’t know how to even put together this year.

I began my year in pain, a week prior having had a two-day stint in A&E with a whole cloud of worries and being placed on the biggest tablets I’ve ever seen I was in a particularly rough place when a trip I’d spent years planning came along. I hadn’t drunk alcohol throughout the week on the tablets, mainly because I was terrified, I’d die I did but also because I was strictly told not to. I flew to Berlin with three friends, I was already dealing with a lot and having just come off a terribly painful time I didn’t particularly know how I was going to cope with what was happening. I love Berlin, it’s my favourite European city and as always it didn’t disappoint. I entered 2020 tipsy sitting on the steps outside our hotel petrified of the fireworks, I entered 2020 in tears wishing for a better year, but I knew it wasn’t going to happen. 

Just after I got back it was my 21st birthday, a pretty important one. My goal was not to cry, I shouldn’t have had that expectation. On my actual birthday I went out and got drunk, I ended up in fits of tears at the end and was doubled by the guy I was speaking to telling me to ‘f*ck off as I’m a mess’ when I rang him. ON MY BIRTHDAY. I travelled down to Plymouth, my then university, and got ready for a party I was not mentally prepared to host. My anxiety was heightened to the point that I couldn’t get drunk, I was stone cold sober. I’m not going to talk about the events of that night because they don’t need to be mentioned, but it was the worst birthday of my life. The following night we doubled the celebrations and ended up out, I got so drunk that everything that happened the night before no longer bothered me. It was obviously the wrong decision on my part. The following weeks were horrific. I spent so much time overthinking things, believing that I was a toxic and horrible person. I believed everything that was said, as it’s known drunk words are sober thoughts. I revisited every part of trauma in the space of two weeks and then I wiped the slate clean. I moved on.

I got a job, it kept me busy and in turn helped me get through the days. I dropped out of the masters I had my heart set on and I decided I wasn’t staying in Plymouth. I went on tablets and then more tablets for UTI’s. I had my last sexual encounter in almost a year, yes you heard that correct my year of ‘celibacy’ is almost over. Then I had to explain myself and things ended, I got behind on university work and there were times when I thought I’d have to re-sit my final year. It got that rough. I had an allergic reaction after being horrifically ill and ended up with tonsillitis. I stopped going to university, I didn’t contact friends and I didn’t contact my therapists. I went to the GP and got signed up to begin trauma therapy and speak to a life coach. I applied for Carlisle, still didn’t know where it was and never fully believed I’d end up there.

I spent a lot of time re-watching shows that made me happy, I cried a lot, and my breakdowns were more impressive than before. Then the 7th of March happened, when my mum rang me and told me to sit down, I knew what she was about to say. I went numb, I was weeks behind on uni work and I’d barely recovered from my month-long stint on tablets. There are times in life where time stops and that phone call was one of them, my Mormor the strongest woman I knew lost her battle. She went peacefully and not in pain, which is all we could’ve wanted but I wanted more time. No amount of time can prepare yourself for it, I had years to prepare and it caught me off guard. I think a part of me thought that she’d be alive forever, that an incurable illness would reverse, and she’d see me watch the graduation stage three times, she’d see me walk down the aisle and she’d cook my kids her incredible pancakes one day. I think the worst part of getting older is everyone around you gets older, something I am not prepared for at all. 

I finished my degree and dedicated my dissertation to her, if anything her passing was the only thing that motivated me to actually do the work. I know how proud she was of me and I needed to do it for her. March, I came home for a week and that was the first time I had come into contact with the real world, I didn’t know what everyone was on about regarding coronavirus. My mind had been clouded, I went to a concert and Magic Mike in London that week, the following week university shut and then lockdown came. I was on the tube having packed as much of my flat as possible in the space of 4 hours and that was it. I didn’t realise that apart from the two trips down to pick up stuff that was my time in Plymouth done. Three years of my life, so many good and bad memories all come to an end.

I went from living predominantly alone to sharing my space with four cats and three other adults, I drank an abundance of alcohol to get me through. It was a rough time for me. I’ve previously mentioned about the fact that there was a point when I realised how bad the drinking had gotten, I woke up one Sunday morning with a hangover having spent a quiet evening in with my family. I didn’t eat till like 4pm as I was so ill, that was the turning point. My lockdown consisted of a lot of breakdowns, I slowly came to terms with my losses both friendships and my Mormor and found who I am. I applied for a masters at Plymouth University and remembered my offer from Carlisle- I decided that I was off to make a fresh start and so I got prepared for Carlisle. I’m very lucky I managed to escape England in the pandemic, I looked like a hypocrite but at the same time I fled to an island where things were more normal and spent two weeks hidden in isolation having seen no one. I got to visit my Mormor’s grave finally and at her memorial I began to let go. I dealt with my mental health and used isolation to realise what was important to me. 

I moved to Carlisle and began that journey, I’ve hated it so far but at the same time the woman I have become is the same woman 15-year-old me dreamt of. I have my own voice, I’m finally confident enough to do every-day things alone and I don’t rely on other people to be happy. I’m a social butterfly but I can also be alone, I stopped drinking as much and I went back to therapy. I planned for my future and have decided to continue in education and get my PhD, something I never thought I’d be smart enough to do. 

I dyed my hair, I lost my senses and got rid of the black hair I loved. I went ginger for a while, then had brown with green underneath and now brown with blue underneath. I’ve obviously had a hard time and took it out on my hair. I also began 2020 with 2 piercings and I now have 8. We love that. 

2020 hasn’t been a good year for anyone, I lost friends I expected to have for life. I lost friends over pure nastiness and jealousy- to the guy who told me that I didn’t live near my gran and therefore I shouldn’t be upset, I’m glad you’re out of my life. I lost who I was, somewhere between the hospital visits and having to catch up on months of overdue university work I didn’t bother to do as I truly didn’t want to finish my degree. I got to the final part and thought what the point was anymore, I didn’t have ambition and I really didn’t care. My whole life had been a preparation to the day I had finally succeeded and yet my academic achievement felt like a flop. It wasn’t the real achievement; I still don’t feel like I’ve reached that point. Maybe it’s a good thing, because if I peak too early then what am I moving towards but instead I felt as if something that should’ve been a peak became absolutely useless. Part of me feels obsolete at this and the other part is motivated to carry on and do more till I reach my peak, and whilst I’m almost certain there will be no normality anytime soon, I can truly say I cannot wait for 2021.

So, as I slowly enter 2021 alongside my gorgeous and talented friends, my supportive family and a newly found motivation and strength. I just want to thank you all, I worked my a** off on this blog and the results have been incredible. I never thought I’d have the confidence to write a post explaining why I tried to kill myself or post photos of my fat bare stomach online and yet I have. I’m 21-years-old with an almost lifetime of mental health problems and my journey doesn’t end now, or anytime soon. Thank you all for coming along with me, hopefully I’ll have another post out before the end of the year but if not happy new year. Let’s make the best of what we are given. 

You are all incredible, resilient people. Remember that. Enjoy your Christmases and give me a thought as I am cooking not only a traditional Finnish/Swedish Christmas dinner on the 24th but an English one on the 25th. I’m going to need a lot of prosecco to get me through this. Thank you for everything, you are all keeping me going.

What is happiness?

Heyyyy

I’ve had a mental time finishing my last essay for block one and then travelling up to Dundee to see the area I am moving to this summer; it’s been a whirlwind and my feet are still in so much pain from all the walking but I’m finally feeling less stressed at my upcoming move. The past few months I’ve been incredibly overwhelmed and slowly sorting things has really helped to ‘de-cloud’ my head and focus on myself. So, as I listen to Taylor Swift’s Evermore chronologically, let me take you through my journey to happiness.

If you’ve been an avid reader of my blog, you’d know that happiness is not an emotion/feeling I’d necessarily associate with, not out of choice but more the cards I’ve been given throughout my long almost twenty-two years on this planet. I feel like it sounded so sad to sit and say that one of my biggest personal dreams used to be to feel complete happiness. However, I grew up. I’m no longer the 18-year-old who naively sashays through life thinking one day it’ll get so much better that all the trauma and problems will be gone. Chances are that’ll never happen, and I don’t know whether I’m proud to call that growth or not, maybe I just became more and more pessimistic. 

I have short bursts of happiness, when I say short it can be anything up to a day. I find those moments in times with my friends, having a laugh and a drink making memories which depending on how many drinks I have I’ll always remember. I find happiness in cuddles with my cat, (pictured below, she’s adorable I know) she’s getting older and the thought of the inevitable is something I’m really struggling with. She’s going senile and most the time can’t remember if her claws are dug in somewhere or if she’s eaten. But she’s my baby, she’s been my only constant through everything and she’s older than my mental health problems which is a miracle considering I feel like I’ve had these problems the entirety of my life.

I find happiness in a katsu curry, in a pornstar martini (or 10). I find happiness in family time, playing games and swearing/threatening my sister when she inevitably beats me. I find happiness in Christmas and watching movies with a glass of prosecco and a tub of quality streets. I find happiness in university, studying topics I feel so strongly about- even if I am terrible at writing the essays for them. I find happiness in the same TV shows I’ve watched a thousand times; the same comedies make me laugh to the point of tears and the final episodes of shows break me down to the point I can’t help flooding tears.

I find happiness now, about to put some pigs in blankets in the oven for my breakfast (‘tis the season) with my cat less than 2m away from me chomping on the food she followed me around the house for. I find happiness in lazy days, wearing pyjamas and slippers all day, not brushing my hair or applying skincare/makeup. I also find happiness in my social days, seeing my friends and the anticipation putting makeup on and sorting my hair out. Doing things that make my life complete, making my life better than what it was before. 

My future might never form this idea of happiness I’ve spent years striving for, I might never have long-term happiness. My life doesn’t revolve around finding something which may not exist, I’m working through trauma which I’ll probably never recover from and as I work through it; I can only imagine more will pile on. My future doesn’t depend on working through my trauma, I’ve made it through almost twenty-two years and I’m still thriving even if sometimes it doesn’t feel like it. 

I’m sorry this post was delayed, I have so much more planned for this blog over this month and I hope now that this term is over these ideas can become reality. From tomorrow onwards I begin my journey to better health after putting it off because my mental health had deteriorated. I’m also getting ready for Christmas and trying to get prepared for a different celebration to what I’m used to, I’m really not good with change but I’m getting there. I’m trying to keep contact with my friends too especially as we’ve now entered tier three and the chances to see my friends are slowly thinning. I’ll see you all soon, thank you for listening. 

PS: I urge you all over Christmas to make a list of things that make you happy and as we move to 2021 use that list every day to remind yourself how things make you happy and no matter what happens there are still things to be happy about. 

Things to remember this festive period…

Heyyy guys

I’m in London!!! It’s Christmas holidays and I’m finally back with my family (and cats!!!!) I’m so happy oh my god. By the time this post is out my hair will also have been redone to now be blue underneath instead of green. (I hope it’s good for future me’s sake). 

As Christmas QUICKLY approaches and as our timelines begin to look a lot cheerier and festive, I just wanted to remind you all of things to remember throughout the upcoming weeks. Especially if you are like me and the festive season is your favourite but also makes you feel very overwhelmed. 

  1. Spend time with your loved ones, in an already terrible year it’s going to be different and strange having Christmas the way it will be this year. For me it’ll be strange not heading out on Christmas Eve (my Christmas) with the 10,000 of our family friends for our dinner but I’ll still be making time to see my friends and family in safe environments. You all should too. 
  2. Drink responsibly, last year I was on strong meds and couldn’t drink and I thought it’d ruin my festive season. This year though I won’t be cutting it completely I’ll definitely be drinking less, and I truly can’t wait. Prosecco hangovers are the worse. 
  3. This period of time is hardest on those with body image problems, eating disorders, etc. I know how difficult it’s going to be. Though I’m excited to sit down with my favourite foods I can’t pretend that I haven’t subjected myself to the thought of what my body will look like if I do. Please remember that your body at Christmas does not equate to your worth or self. You are incredible even if the number on the scale does go up over the holidays. 
  4. Remember to be thankful for what you have and get this Christmas. In a year where a lot of families and households will be worse off it’s often uncomfortable to think about those less fortunate than ourselves. If you are in a position to there are some amazing charities who are providing a lot of help to those impacted most. 
  5. Look after yourself. I was about to write look out for your friends but this one is more important. Seasonal depression alongside regular depression alongside pandemic depression is not to be played or joked about. Make sure you take time to sit and reflect, make sure you don’t overwhelm yourself and if you need to cry don’t feel pressured by the jolly nature of the holidays to not let your emotions out. Be aware of your triggers and keep yourself safe. 
  6. Look out for your friends and loved ones also, as aforementioned it is difficult with a whole lot of depression around at the moment but it’s in moments of vulnerability, we need to keep together and look after each other. It is now more than ever that we realise who we truly care for, it’s been a terrible year one of which I can count how many times I’ve seen my two best friends on one hand rather than the significant number it was before- this may be the same for you all. So, this festive period make sure you tell the ones you love that you love them, how much you appreciate them- I know I will be.
  7. New Year’s Resolutions – for the past five years my resolutions have been ridiculously unachievable. This year I’m not putting myself through that torture, instead I’ll be entering 2021 with a positive mindset for not changing myself or my bad habits but looking after myself. Writing resolutions like not being hungover more than once a week, or not going to the doctors more than 10 times only make me feel worse when I break them. Promising myself weight loss or stopping takeaways only takes away things that have previously helped me through the rough times. Your resolutions aren’t a way of bettering yourself, you are incredible the way you are. Don’t try and meet societies expectations just because it’s plastered all over social media. 2020 I broke every single resolution in my first month. 2021 there is no expectations, I will work on myself and recover from pain I didn’t realise I had but I don’t expect a miracle- this is a long game journey.
  8. Get ready for 2021. Though our spirits are so high over the talks of a vaccine we must remember that this pandemic doesn’t just go away because the year is over. I would love to say this will all be over, and we’ll be able to see our loved ones and return to clubs etc. but the reality is we are probably years away from that. Be prepared, hopefully things get better, but the truth is there is a very good chance that won’t happen. 

I have more posts coming, I’m just getting my final essay from block one in for next week and then I’ll be ready to put more work in on this. I hope you are all enjoying this December- I’ll see you all soon.

Body Image: I hate my figure.

Heyyy

TW: anorexia and mention of harm.

Christmas holidays are coming so soon, I can’t wait because even though I have a ridiculous amount of work I’ll be at home and that’ll settle me. It’s also my favourite time of the year, as it leads up to my birthday too. Genuinely can’t wait, I’m just excited to spend some time with my family and cats and see my friends!!! Finally!!!!

In posts about my fitness journey, I’ve mentioned my previous problems with eating, I’ve also mentioned them throughout this journey I’ve been sharing with you all. It only dawned on me today however that I’ve never explained that part of my life fully. This will not be a post directly on that, but on my journey since then. But here is the background on why I still struggle to this day with body image. 

When I was eight years old, I was ridiculously skinny. Most children are really skinny, so it’s nothing that would be often considered dangerous. I did a lot of sports, despite being absolutely trash at them all and I was an active person rather than the lazy one I am now. I got diagnosed with an eating disorder because I was starving myself, I would eat one meal a day and would throw out my lunches. I would barely eat; I was told I was fat, and I took that ridiculously seriously. Someone who I was barely friends with once looked at my thighs and told me I needed to stop eating so much because they were huge. I was 10 and eating the bare minimum as it was, I was not huge. The photos below show me at the age 11 and now.

My eating disorder caused a lot of problems for me down the line, none more so than my body dysmorphia. I look back at photos from when I was in school and I remember crying because I thought I was a whale, I thought I was ridiculously fat, and I can barely recognise the woman in those photos. I had ab lines and genuinely it makes me so emotional to even look back at what I used to look like. I just miss it. 

Throughout my teenage years I was always fixated on my ‘flaws’, for a long time I was so embarrassed about my forehead. It just didn’t make sense; I’d occasionally get a comment about it and it changed how I viewed myself. I went through stages where I’d never take selfies or if I did, I’d cut the top of my head off so you could only see from my eyebrows down. It sounds so stupid now, but back then I was so fixated on how disgusting it was. Then came my chest, when my boobs grew, I was so pleased. I loved them, then they kept growing and growing. They are still growing today, and to the person who told me when I was young, they stop growing at 18 you were wrong, and I hate you. I’ve spoken before about how when my boobs grew my self-confidence was ruined, this is because for years the only thing about me that would get attention is my boobs. So, I grew up feeling like the only way to get attention, to feel wanted was to show them off.

I’ve grown up a lot and I no longer work my outfits or my photos or anything around my flaws. I know my angles and know how to make myself look better; I usually fake tan because I believe it covers my flaws. It hides my paleness, my stretch marks, my burn marks and my acne. It makes me like myself more, but I’ve also not had the motivation to fake tan recently. I’ve been really trying to deal with my body issues recently. I struggle though because I don’t know what I look like. I look in a mirror and I want to cry; a full-length mirror genuinely brings me to tears. I see all of my stretch marks, I see my burn marks, I see the scars and it’s all I see. I can’t look at the positives, and parts of my body which I used to think were alright are now painted with stretch marks. I love my thighs, and yes, they are big, but they are so nice. I love my legs; they are long, and I get terrible friction burn and shaving them is a nightmare because it hurts my back as they are so long. But I love them. 

I’m amazing at telling people to love themselves, to embrace stretch marks or growth. I’m terrible at loving myself. The me I see in photos, is someone completely different to the person I see in the mirror. Since I was 17, I’ve grown and I began using alcohol as a coping mechanism, I gained an alcohol belly and I’ve struggled to get rid of it. Seeing that belly led to comfort eating and in turn I put on a lot of weight, I don’t like looking at the figure on scales because I know I am tall, and I have big boobs that weigh an awful lot. I try to ignore stuff like that but at the same time I’m clouded by the genuine truth is I’m obese according to the BMI chart. A chart that was created in WW2 heightens my depression; I spend a lot of time thinking I know the easiest way to lose weight. 

The past month before I moved up to Scotland I was eating terribly, I barely had one meal a day and I’d snack if I fancied it. I got takeaways often, and I lost all passion and desire for food. I couldn’t sleep and the figure on the scales had plateaued. I lost strength and everything in life was draining. I used to look at myself in the mirror and just point and cry at my fat around me, I was so drained and stressed with everything that the best way to get through was to pick apart at my looks.

My skin has recently flared too, something which I’m not used to. Growing up I had the occasional spots, but I don’t remember a time where I actually had terrible acne other than now. Which is also ridiculously annoying considering I’ve actually bothered to get a skincare routine other than sleeping in my makeup and caking my body in fake tan. I keep thinking it’s the beginning of my period but not yet, we’re 2 months late which is always a good thing. To be honest I’m just hoping it comes soon so I don’t go through the trauma of remembering having to go to A&E last Christmas because of period/UTI problems. I just finished this post and the conclusion, and something triggered this memory, when I was young, I was ridiculed for having red skin, I always get terribly pink not even just when I’m embarrassed but in general. I also had freckles and I remember one of my friends telling me that the best way to cover them up was a high coverage foundation. I was so young that I remember being bewildered about having to cover them up, and yet now it is a trend to paint on freckles???? I also pack the blush on and my skins probably pinker than it is without makeup, things that I was terribly insecure about have now become a standard makeup look for myself. It makes no sense. 

Summer 2019 I made a post on Instagram talking about my body image and how I still struggled with it years after ‘recovering’ from my anorexia. I don’t believe I’ll ever fully recover though I’m definitely not anorexic anymore, I’ll still consider unhealthily losing weight even though I know how much it ruined me. When I posted that, I got a comment from some random bot account calling me fat, and even though it was some anonymous man it broke me. I was beyond upset, how can someone call me fat when they can’t even publicly show who they are, what they look like, but the problem is it doesn’t matter. Once someone has said something your mind can’t help but wander. It can’t help but feel like it’s true and I sometimes find myself scrolling back through these messages I’ve received because to me they only affirm what I already believed. It’s shattering to hate your body the way I do. I can only hope that one day I’m happy with it. But first I think I need to work out what I look like. 

I sometimes feel like when I speak about my weight, about my figure that some people think I’m attention seeking, and this was proved when I received a load of nasty messages saying exactly that. I’m not going to say I’m fat because I’m not, but the truth is I have gotten fatter. It doesn’t matter if you are a size 2 or a size 18 you can still have body image problems, stop judging people like me for not feeling comfortable in my skin. You don’t live in my skin. You don’t wake up to the sight of my bright purple stretch marks on your chest, you don’t go to shower and see my bright pink stretchmarks along my thighs and belly. You don’t have a word to say about my body because you aren’t me. I’m the only person allowed to hate my body, and even then, I’m the only person who can fix that feeling. 

My journey to body love is not short, instead I think it’s lifelong. I don’t feel like I’ll ever be comfortable in my body, there will always be something I can improve and my life sucks till that changes. But to people like me, and my sister who I know needs to hear this, your body is beautiful and everything you consider a flaw is what makes you so special and unique. You aren’t a clone; every curve, every scar or mark, every freckle, every hip dip- all of it is beautiful. To everyone like me who often skips meals, stop. You may not like your body but it still needs food, if not for the simple reason that starving is painful and detrimental but to improve energy and allow you to sleep. 

More blog posts are coming soon, as always my messages are open. m

November… it gets harder every year

Hiiii loves

I should be more vocal again; it’s the time of the year when my seasonal depression has more than kicked in and though it’s been rough, I’m making my way through the month. Here we go though, here’s my monthly recap with a twist.

Two weeks back I mourned, and I fought with grief, six years later and the pain is yet to leave. I still feel guilty having not stopped or been there, but heaven gained the most amazing angels. I’m so lucky that though my time in their lives were short it was met with such love, laughter and life. Yesterday I was in a pit once again, two years back I made the same mistake again and lost another beautiful soul. Yesterday was also my two-year anniversary of my worst suicide attempt, I’m so grateful it didn’t work. I will never let myself slip like that again. November isn’t just seasonal depression to me, it’s the reminder of the mistakes I’ve made. The mistakes I promised I’d never remake I ended up doing over and over again. 

University – my work is going incredible. I did a presentation last week and then on top of that I finished an essay in 3 days which I didn’t think was possible. I genuinely love my course. I’m beginning the second block on Monday which is insane, the first six weeks flew by and having handed in two assignments pending a third I am currently a sixth way through my masters. I love studying sociology-based modules, it reminded me why I loved my undergraduate. So yesterday I had my first meeting and finalised my PhD thesis topic, I hope that by studying what I’m doing I can make a real difference. I’m not ready to speak about the topic on here yet as I still have some research to do but in the long-term the results could genuinely make a difference. 

Family – When I had my breakdown a week or so back, I rang my mum straight away and within half an hour I was packing to go up to live with my Granny and Auntie in Scotland for basically the rest of lockdown. I’m so lucky that it doesn’t matter how much I break my family is always on my side, backing me. There is nothing more important than that. Also, I’m heading home for Christmas soon so that’ll be some much-needed family time as we haven’t seen all four of us together since September which is ridiculously long for us. It will be nice to just relax over Christmas and play games until my sister physically throws a tantrum. She always does.

Diet – My clothes are baggier than before, don’t know if I’ve lost weight because I haven’t been able to weigh myself plus I haven’t been in a good enough mental state to weigh myself anyway. I’m eating as normal, I’m struggling along and I haven’t done as much working out as wanted but I’ve been so busy that I haven’t had the chance. 

Friends – my friends are incredible. The way they all rushed to my side when I broke and since have kept well in contact with me, congratulating me on my PhD and move up to Scotland for next year. Keeping me going with laughs whilst I do my essays. When I was younger I always dreamt I’d have the perfect friendships and I truly do, I’m so grateful.

Health – my skin is still flaring, could be stress though. Not worried and trying to come off my skincare routine to see if it’s that. I’ve been having minor reactions to clementine’s again; I know I’m allergic to the pesticides but it’s a Christmas tradition for me to have rashes over my hands because of them. My period also never came in October or November so we’re back to waiting again, loads of fun. I’m sure it’ll rock up on Christmas as I’m cooking Christmas dinner for fun. 

Miscellaneous – I’m starting a volunteering mentorship program with children, helping them which I’m so grateful these types of opportunities are there for me to grab. I just also want to laugh at present me who just read this post and an hour ago wrote that it was nice to have a breakdown without doing something catastrophic like getting a piercing or dyeing my hair yet here I am with two new piercings to mirror my other ear. Sorry mum, I like piercings.

This month has been tough so far, I ended October in high spirits and worked so hard to be the woman I currently am. I worked hard at university and worked out what my future entails. I began searching for new cities to move to and decided Dundee is at least my next six years, I’ll be half an hour from my Granny and Auntie and a lifetime away from London but I’m growing up. I was always terrified that I wanted to leave London so bad that I never would, it’d be something I would regret the older I got. I haven’t lived full-time in London since I was eighteen and I doubt I ever will as I’ll be twenty-eight when I finish my PhD. I fell in love with learning, I found what I was passionate about- social change and sociology gives me that drive to succeed. I’m still growing and learning and after November the last thing I thought I’d be doing is wanting to move to Scotland alone, but I know that this is where my journey begins.

I’m twenty-two in less than two months and I’m proud of the woman I am. I have rough times and they try their hardest to bring me down, but I’m stronger than that and I’ll keep fighting. Thank you for bearing with me this month, I haven’t been as vocal as usual, but I’ve also been working through a lot that I’m yet to speak about, probably never will speak about to be completely honest. 

Thank you, I love you all. I’ll be back to normal soon.

2 years… what have I learnt?

TRIGGER WARNING: SUICIDE. 

Hiii loves

Yesterday, 20th of November was 2 years since two life-changing moments in life. My November recap will explain the other one, but this is the important one. It was 2 years since my most dangerous attempt, what have I learnt.

Life is what you make of it. 

I never thought I was clever, and I’ve just began sorting my PhD proposal.

I thought I was lonely, and yet when I broke two weeks ago my phone didn’t shut up with love.

I thought I was worthless, and yet I am continuously reminded of how I’ve helped so many people.

I thought I’d be better off dead, and yet I am reminded daily of everything I have to live for.

Suicide is not selfish; it takes a lot of courage and strength to go through with it. I never had that I’d like to think it’s because I always knew I would get through things. I just wanted relief. 

I’m stupid though, I never spoke out and I never told people what had happened or was happening because I was terrified, they’d leave me. The funny thing about that is the ones that left only made me stronger. I’m not alone and I never have been.

You spend so many years hating yourself that when things begin to go well you purposely mess it up. I self-sabotage continuously. I don’t like being happy, it unsettles me. But I’m learning and I’m changing, I’ll never change who I am. I have nothing to change- I am who I am because of the experiences I’ve been through and they’ve shaped me incredibly. 

I am a woman destined to change things, I don’t personally believe it is even possible for me to be quiet and stop fighting for change. I wouldn’t be who I am today if it wasn’t for those who didn’t believe in me, to the people who bullied me or spoke nasty about me- you are not to thank for my success, but I hope you regret it. I hope that you still continue to be obsessed with me, and though I have forgiven behaviour I know a lot of you did continually stalk my account though blocked. Hope you enjoyed watching who I became. 

I’m not 19 overdosing in my bathroom at university. I’m 21 typing this an hour before I go and get my fifth and sixth piercing of the year. I’m the most resilient woman I know and yes, both literally and metaphorically I am big-headed. My ego is rightfully large, I’ve lived through so much trauma and yet I’m still alive. 

If you are struggling please know it gets better. I’m living proof that the better doesn’t come quickly or successfully. I’ve had better and still fallen again; it’s draining but it’ll be worth it. One day I’ll tell my children about how I almost gave everything up when I was 19, how I came so close to death and how it motivated me. 

Thank you for reading, as always please reach out if you need to. 

Sorry I’ve been MIA…

Heyyy 

I should probably explain myself. There is a post coming soon on November and its significance in my life. There’s also many posts needing to make up for time lost recently. I’ve been struggling.

It’s half one on a Thursday afternoon and I’m currently on a train in a National Lockdown escaping the most dangerous thing to me, myself. The past week I noticed I was slowing down, whilst also being productive I was lacking energy and finding even things like Sudoku’s weren’t providing me with its usual joy. 

I spoke to my friends, I watched my usual depression shows, I stopped cooking/started cooking my favourite meals, I stopped cleaning my room, I stopped getting up early and started sleeping at random times. My whole life basically went to sh*t. I worked my a** off to be this woman who can deal with anything life throws at her, I’ve broken many times but this one was indescribable. 

I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t be in isolation alone; I was seeing my flatmate for less than 10 minutes a day and my only other interactions was through a phone or the till lady at Asda. And I feel useless for it, I moved to Carlisle to see if I could be independent. To see if I was able to survive alone and this past week has been such a setback. 

In normal circumstances I would’ve been fine, I would’ve met people to go out drinking with. I would’ve moved back down to Plymouth and done my masters alongside my friends and continued to club, drink and even work. I would’ve been around people continuously and though I don’t think I would’ve been brilliant I would’ve been okay. But instead I’m trying to live a normal life in a global pandemic. The news makes me depressed, continuously hearing the word coronavirus makes me depressed and the thought of losing my twenties to this virus makes me depressed.

So, I left. I gave myself an hour and a half to pack a suitcase and attempt to clean my room and then I jumped in a taxi and got on my train. I promised I’d start speaking about my feelings more, I wouldn’t live with it all alone, so I posted about it. I haven’t stopped crying since I got on the train, my Instagram and snapchat has been filled with messages of support, love and similar pain. I’m genuinely so thankful for you all. It made a painful moment feel so much better, I am so blessed to have met and to be friends with so many incredible human beings. I have so much love for everyone I know.

And this is what I learnt, by being honest and admitting that I wasn’t coping I realised I wasn’t alone. So many people were messaging me saying they were struggling and that I was the only one validating how they felt. So, I’m here to tell you now, LOCKDOWN F*CKING SUCKS. Isolation f*cking sucks. Living with depression f*cking sucks and this pandemic f*cking sucks a**. Right that’s the most I’m going to swear on this blog I promise, even though I’m censoring it for future purposes. 

I’m 21 years-old and though I love being an individual I also hate my own company. I’m a resilient young woman but I also break and when I do, I struggle to maintain any of the knowledge I’ve learnt. I notice when I’m down but can’t piece it together with knowing I’m breaking; I know I’m loved and yet I still believe I’m unlovable. 

I spent years coping alone and I did what I do best. I go missing, I flee. This time is different, I’m running towards help instead of running away from everything. 

I hope I’m back to writing more posts soon but right now the only happiness I’m getting is from Christmas music, so I really need to work on that and myself for a bit.

Look after yourself kiddos, I’m always here.