Triggers

Personally, most of my triggers escape me. The only ones I know for certain are the ones which produce anxiety; social situations and loud noise and public transport, among other things. But with regards to my depression, suicidality, self-harm and general life meltdowns, it's mostly unclear. Because they're a strange thing, triggers. Or more accurately,… Continue reading Triggers

The Verge Becomes The Edge

I don't generally include trigger warnings on my blog posts, but as a forewarning, this post deals pretty explicitly with suicide and suicidal ideation. You know yourself. If this isn't a safe topic for you, please don't read on. It started on Wednesday. I say that's when it started, but of course it's difficult to… Continue reading The Verge Becomes The Edge

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

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

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

The Art of Opening Up (and of lying)

They say it's an act, as if opening up is purely an action and nothing else. They say 'just' open up, as if it's easy in the first place, like 'just' starting the car, or 'just' cleaning the kitchen. It's not an act. It's an art. Acting would be the way I lie to everyone… Continue reading The Art of Opening Up (and of lying)

Being Diagnosed as Bipolar

The first time I asked myself if I might be bipolar, I was sixteen. I remember the day vividly. I was being driven home from the gym by my mum, and I was in tears. Normally my dad does the driving. I asked why she had picked me up. Apparently, I had broken yet another… Continue reading Being Diagnosed as Bipolar