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

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

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

The Thing About the Future

The future can be likened to many things, some of them literal and some metaphorical. Sometimes it seems that the future is a butterfly fluttering away in the distance, always visible but never reachable. Maybe it’s more of a stone, rolling down a hill and gaining more and more momentum until it’s an unstoppable force.… Continue reading The Thing About the Future

Waves

Think of what it feel like to drown: the water covering your head, entering your throat and nose, trickling into every possible entrance, smothering, choking, burning. Imagine the panic that bubbles beneath the surface, the terror that streams from your stomach to your chest and up out of your soul through tensed shoulders and a… Continue reading Waves

Nurturing Internal Wounds (AKA therapy sucks)

Since my last period of extreme suicidality (okay, so essentially the last few months of 2017), I have had a "treatment team" looking after me and my mental health. This includes a GP, psychologist specialising in mood disorders and a psychiatrist. During eating disorder treatment, this also included two eating disorder psychologists, an occupational therapist… Continue reading Nurturing Internal Wounds (AKA therapy sucks)

Chronic Depression, My Old Friend

When I was younger, before all the bad shit happened (read: anorexia followed by years of intense bullying which only reaffirmed that if I was just thinner, things would be better) I thought depression was purely episodic. I thought it only occurred during grief after a death, that it was a really intense sadness that hung… Continue reading Chronic Depression, My Old Friend

Bringing Clarity To My Eating Disorder(s)

This is my safe space, where I do whatever the fuck I want. Sometimes, I write eloquently and in full sentences, and sometimes my writing becomes a pure stream of consciousness, which can be identified by the increased use of swear words and italics. Because this is my space where I do whatever the fuck… Continue reading Bringing Clarity To My Eating Disorder(s)

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

When Goal Setting Makes Me Suicidal

2017 was the first year I sought eating disorder treatment since anorexia developed in 2011. My recovery prior to this was undertaken by myself, without input from any health professionals. This was not a healthy decision. I know of people who have undertaken their own recovery and weight restoration and done an incredible job, grown… Continue reading When Goal Setting Makes Me Suicidal