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

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

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)