Posts

Eating Disorder Nostalgia

Sometimes, I wish I had died. I look back at photos from my thinnest, from my sickest, most obsessive, frame of mind and wish I had died. I was close. I can recall moments where I was terrified that I was in fact, about to die, and also the words of friends, who indeed did… Continue reading Eating Disorder Nostalgia

My Depression Has No Metaphor

I was trying to think of a metaphor I could use to describe depression. There's an obvious problem, with it being utterly indescribable. All this bullshit about clouds that rain only over you, and darkness that doesn't recede, isn't really wrong, but it doesn't fully capture the essence of depression. Which, just to eliminate the… Continue reading My Depression Has No Metaphor

Suicide Doesn’t Seem Selfish To Me

People say that suicide is selfish. And sure, they're right - it is selfish to leave behind bereft family and friends who you cannot support, who will never know your last words and last thoughts, and constantly question if they could have helped, if they could have done more. Keeping me alive is also selfish.… Continue reading Suicide Doesn’t Seem Selfish To Me

Strong Not Skinny: Lifting Weights in Eating Disorder Recovery

The first time I attended yoga I was fifteen years old. I was the youngest person in the class by at least ten years. I started to practice yoga amidst eating disorder recovery, as I attempted to leave behind excessive exercising, and build strength instead. Strong not skinny is my greatest mantra. And it really… Continue reading Strong Not Skinny: Lifting Weights in Eating Disorder Recovery

Sketches From a Psychiatric Ward

They're strangely aesthetically pleasing. In 2017, I was admitted to three separate psych wards, for a total of six weeks. It might not seem like a lot, and sure I had 46 weeks of non-psych ward living, but these were my first three trips to the ER, and first three admissions to hospital for any… Continue reading Sketches From a Psychiatric Ward

Permanency

I have tattoos. People are genuinely surprised to hear this, because my first is on my hipbone and so not visible. My second is freshly done, and definitely visible (it's on my bicep) but it's winter now and hidden beneath layers of soft knits and scarves. Maybe people are surprised because I don't look "the… Continue reading Permanency

Chapter Zero: A Brief History of My Time with Mental Illness

I'm going to tell you a story. There was once a girl who was so energetic people described her as "crazy". She had a wild, untameable personality, and loved nature, acting, art and school. She was proud of her intelligence, and she didn't let being different stop her from doing anything. Then her mind turned… Continue reading Chapter Zero: A Brief History of My Time with Mental Illness

On The Verge

The emotions pile on and on and on. Anger and frustration and sadness and anxiety and stress and fear. On and on and on am I swathed in irresistible urges to hurt myself, to binge, to cut, to do something worse. On and on and on it goes. It's an endless hurt mapped by scars… Continue reading On The Verge

My Self-Harm Story

The first time I hurt myself I was sixteen. I used a pin, and scratched the part of my body I despised the most at the time - my hips. I blamed myself for my brother's cancer diagnosis. I blamed myself for the shouting that accompanied his move back in with my parents. I blamed… Continue reading My Self-Harm Story

Anxious Human Here (3.0)

It's me again, your regular anxious Rosie. Here are the things that are making me anxious: Do people even like me, or are they just pretending? My colleagues laugh, but is it with me, or at me? I sing aloud as I slice bread; do they think that it's weird? Are they pretending to like… Continue reading Anxious Human Here (3.0)

Some Things

I had no idea what to write today. Most of the time, when I sit down to write, or to blog, or to journal, whatever it may be, I have a pretty clear idea of where I'm heading and what I want to achieve. Lately, everything is a mess. It's so much of a mess… Continue reading Some Things

Desperate Times, Normal Measures – A Poem

Eclipses decorate her flesh in a myriad mess of alluring urges and sorrowful representation of sadness and denial - suppression she says - and painfully visceral confrontation. Disproportionate coping mechanisms and trickling stains and raindrops without an umbrella or a bandage or any real predisposition to stop. What is life, when life is black, when… Continue reading Desperate Times, Normal Measures – A Poem

Hatred

It's been a tough few weeks. It's been a very tough few weeks. The suicidal thoughts have returned, just as strong as before. I hate this. It's something I repeat to the friends I reach out to, over and over and over: I hate this.  I hate not knowing myself, I hate that I can't seem… Continue reading Hatred

I don’t want things to be different, just worse

I'm struggling at the moment, lately, still, always, of course I am, because what else would I be doing if I wasn't struggling? The depression is back with a vengeance, anxiety tells me I'm going to die every time I catch public transport, suicidal ideation has been bad, self harm urges have been bad, the… Continue reading I don’t want things to be different, just worse

Step Into The Waves, Not To Come Back Out

I say that things are rough a lot, but things are rough at the moment. Not in the usual way either. Things are rough in a new way and I don't like it. The urge to self-harm has become a desire to hurt myself, driven by a sense of failure and need for punishment. The… Continue reading Step Into The Waves, Not To Come Back Out