Something I have found really easy to do is fall into bad habits.
Bad habits.
Bad habits can be anything to anyone. Like going back to biting nails, or being too lazy to go jogging or smoking. They are so easy to go back to when you are really in need.
When things are going badly and you are having a rough time, its so easy to fall into bad habits. It's comforting. It's nice to fall back into something that gives some sort of relief, it acts as a reinforcer to carry on with the habit to give the same comfort, then the cycle starts again.
And the problem with this is that its very hard to break.
Mental health is a very strong example of a bad habit cycle.
Depression is an evil thing, in the way that it can drag you down so easily and so quickly that you soon turn to things you shouldn't be doing for a "quick fix" (if you will) of relief.
Whether this is habits in relation to eating, of self injury, or continuous thinking about something, it can cause so much more harm than your brain realises at that time.
Because these habits are so engrained into our minds and even our daily routine, we don't see the harm that than can cause. We only see the relief. We only see that in that moment of time, the habit in question will provide some sort of relief, comfort or even happiness that will calm us down and bring us back to reality.
Until it hits you what has happened.
Until you realise that you have gotten yourself into a cycle you had worked so hard to break yourself out of.
Until you start to think yourself as stupid and worthless and weak because you so easily gave in after putting in so much hard work before to stop yourself doing it.
Bad habits.
To me, bad habits are one of the biggest enemies a person can face. By beating a habit you are beating something that can be part of the reason you're this bad again, and you then can know you're winning half the battle.
But beating the habit is ridiculously hard. It's messy. It's full of being clean then relapse and times of depression and picking yourself up. Its a repeat of clean and relapse, clean and relapse. It's wishing you were someone else and wishing you were so much better at doing all of this and wondering why you arent a happy person who doesnt have to worry about the next time they will be happy and okay being too far away.
Bad habits however are beatable.
There will be a time where you win. You won't even know it's the last time it happens but it ultimately will be. Because bad habits don't win and relapse will stop and you will be okay. The thought of the bad habits will always be there but you will one day be strong enough to be able to move past it and do something better to channel the feelings.
Bad habits.
Nothing is worse than a bad habit. Don't keep falling into the trap.
They don't make it all okay. That's your job.
Tuesday, 21 March 2017
Saturday, 11 March 2017
An Open Letter To The Person Helping Me
Dear You, The Person Helping Me.
I want to thank you.
I want to thank you for being there for me when I couldn't be there for myself. I want to thank you for making me feel okay in times when I am far from it. I want to thank you for believing in me when I continually deny my worth to you and deny my worth as a human being.
I know it cannot be easy. I know that helping me must be draining, especially when you too are struggling with your own things. But you've stayed with me, and that means more to me than anything. You stayed through me crying my eyes out at 3am drunk, you've stayed with me as I scream and shout at you, you've stayed with me when I wanted to push you away. You stayed with me when I would look in the mirror and not recognise the person I was facing. You stayed with me at my worst and you stayed with me at my best.
I don't know if you realise how much you have helped me.
I don't know if you realise that asking me how I am on my darkest days makes me feel so loved, wanted and happy again. Or if you realise that talking to me on my worst days keeps me from doing things that I would later regret doing.
The way you would stay up for me to make sure I was safe. The way you would cover me when I wasn't myself and others noticed and the way you could sense when something had hurt me. The way you calmed my 3am panic attacks, my crying fits, my breakdowns. The way you acted as a shield to me when I was being attacked. The way you opened up to me and trusted me. The way you promised to keep my secrets secret and the way you supported any little thing I did. The way you acted to make sure I was okay made me feel so wanted in a world I feel lonely in and the way you acted made me strong enough to carry on fighting on days I wanted to give up.
I thank you for understanding that the person I act when I am at my worst is not the person I actually am. People have left me because they couldn't handle the person they believed me to be, but you stayed. You helped me fight and you kept me sane.
You took some of the pain away and took it for yourself, so that I could have an easier ride and for that I will always be thankful.
There are many times I thought, and will no doubt think in the future, that I can't do this anymore. That there is nothing more to life than darkness and that I will never see the light again. There are times that I lied to you, I took a joke too far, I screamed at you and hated you. There are times where I ignored you because my brain said you hated me and there are times I wished we weren't friends anymore because I couldn't stand your "clinging".
But you stayed, you fought, you held on. You held on to a sinking ship in hopes that you could fix it and raise it back up. When I was the worst friend in the world, you made sure you were continuing o be the best.
And I'm sorry.
I'm sorry that I treated you so badly when I needed you. I'm sorry that I cannot be myself all the time and I'm sorry I need to talk to you all the time when I'm feeling bad because you make all the negative feelings easier to cope with.
But at the same time, I thank you.
You stayed. You never gave up on me, even when I'm a lost cause.
And you continue to help me day in and day out, slowly turn back into the person I lost a long time ago.
You are the reason I am writing these words today, and I am eternally grateful.
I don't know if you realise that asking me how I am on my darkest days makes me feel so loved, wanted and happy again. Or if you realise that talking to me on my worst days keeps me from doing things that I would later regret doing.
The way you would stay up for me to make sure I was safe. The way you would cover me when I wasn't myself and others noticed and the way you could sense when something had hurt me. The way you calmed my 3am panic attacks, my crying fits, my breakdowns. The way you acted as a shield to me when I was being attacked. The way you opened up to me and trusted me. The way you promised to keep my secrets secret and the way you supported any little thing I did. The way you acted to make sure I was okay made me feel so wanted in a world I feel lonely in and the way you acted made me strong enough to carry on fighting on days I wanted to give up.
I thank you for understanding that the person I act when I am at my worst is not the person I actually am. People have left me because they couldn't handle the person they believed me to be, but you stayed. You helped me fight and you kept me sane.
You took some of the pain away and took it for yourself, so that I could have an easier ride and for that I will always be thankful.
There are many times I thought, and will no doubt think in the future, that I can't do this anymore. That there is nothing more to life than darkness and that I will never see the light again. There are times that I lied to you, I took a joke too far, I screamed at you and hated you. There are times where I ignored you because my brain said you hated me and there are times I wished we weren't friends anymore because I couldn't stand your "clinging".
But you stayed, you fought, you held on. You held on to a sinking ship in hopes that you could fix it and raise it back up. When I was the worst friend in the world, you made sure you were continuing o be the best.
And I'm sorry.
I'm sorry that I treated you so badly when I needed you. I'm sorry that I cannot be myself all the time and I'm sorry I need to talk to you all the time when I'm feeling bad because you make all the negative feelings easier to cope with.
But at the same time, I thank you.
You stayed. You never gave up on me, even when I'm a lost cause.
And you continue to help me day in and day out, slowly turn back into the person I lost a long time ago.
You are the reason I am writing these words today, and I am eternally grateful.
Wednesday, 1 March 2017
Eating (EDAW 2017)
Battles of all kind involve a mental challenge and even though I myself have never been diagnosed with an eating disorder, I know that this is strongly the case with ED's too.
But even though I do not have an ED, my relationship with food hasn't always been healthy.
Especially through my teenage years, I have struggled with my weight and have as a result struggled with my eating habits.
When I was younger, I used to comfort eat a worryingly large amount without seeing it as a real problem. But why would I? 11 year old me didn't see any issue with eating to make myself feel better because at the time I didn't know any better. I didn't know any better than locking myself in my room and eating to make myself feel okay.
My weight had always been an issue for me, and being an active person then and still now, my size has always been something I've been highly embarrassed of. Even though I hated my body, I would continue to binge eat and find myself into bars of chocolate, packets of crisps etc until I was feeling unwell from the amount of food I had been eating. Eating past the point of full, hidden away in my room.
I know that arguably, this itself wasn't an issue. So what I used to eat too much junk food? What kid at that age didn't?
It's only now looking back, when I start pairing it with how I was feeling at the time that I start to see it as an issue.
Especially during secondary school, I began to feel really down and low about my weight. I would eat and then feel absolutely guilty and absolutely hate myself but I couldn't control what I was eating because the thoughts and feelings I wanted to block out were getting worse and worse and made me feel like I needed to binge more and more.
The more I ate, the more I gained weight and the worse the comments would get. I was often made fun of because of my weight, and as I said, being a very active person who threw myself into sport, being seen as overweight was a thing that was highly mocked and laughed at, especially at that age. On many occasions, I was brought to tears because I couldn't handle the comments I was receiving. It all got worse and worse until I finally had enough of everything, which is when I fell quickly into a state of depression that even today I still find myself struggling to rise from.
This is when my eating habits became more unhealthy. When I would have days where I would eat either twice my usual amount or eat absolutely nothing at all. I would manage to avoid eating anything at school by taking in a packed lunch (which I wouldn't eat because I "ate a large breakfast" when really I ate nothing) and I would avoid eating at home by telling my parents I had already eaten because they trusted me enough to cook for myself at home. And the days where I would eat more than 'normal' I would eat a packed lunch and a cooked lunch at school, as well as eating 2 dinners at home and eating all the junk food i could get a hold of. This drastic shift with no in between made me constantly tired, moody and unwell to the point I was having days after days off school. And at this point, I was only 14.
Slowly but surely as I settled into my friendship group and the comments started to fade away, I managed to realise that my habits needed to change. Even though I was still battling with the lowness and the significant lack of self-confidence which still is there today, in a sense I was "lucky" in that I managed to be able to "fix" myself in time before it got any worse. I managed to somehow bring myself back together when I was heading towards a potentially life-threatening and changing eating disorder.
In the UK it is believed that over 725,000 people have an eating disorder of some kind.
Anorexia has the highest mortality rate of any psychiatric disorder, with around 20% of those with anorexia losing their life due to the fatal impact on their physical health or suicide.
I am not an expert in information about eating disorders and I will never claim to be. I cannot sit here and say I really know that much information about them, except what I have witnesses through friends and classmates who have struggled with an eating disorder.
The effects I have seen absolutely terrify me.
It scares me how that the impact an eating disorder has on your weight (which to my understanding is a big factor in diagnosis and admissions) comes greatly after the mental aspect of any ED.
It scares me that there are people not receiving help who are in need of it because they aren't deemed "sick enough"
Eating disorders aren't always a physical manifestation. In the same way that depression, OCD, anxiety etc are mental health issues, all forms of eating disorder stem from a mental health issue.
They are complex problems. They cause distorted thinking, extreme lack of confidence, depression, suicidal thoughts, feelings of worthlessness and can lead to extreme physical problems that can cause life threatening complications even after "recovery".
They are real, serious issues that need to be accepted, addressed and intervened before the point of serious ill physical health for those who have an eating disorder.
It is important for people to understand eating disorders, so people can be there to help a friend, family member, colleague or stranger recover from their problem before it is too late.
But even though I do not have an ED, my relationship with food hasn't always been healthy.
Especially through my teenage years, I have struggled with my weight and have as a result struggled with my eating habits.
When I was younger, I used to comfort eat a worryingly large amount without seeing it as a real problem. But why would I? 11 year old me didn't see any issue with eating to make myself feel better because at the time I didn't know any better. I didn't know any better than locking myself in my room and eating to make myself feel okay.
My weight had always been an issue for me, and being an active person then and still now, my size has always been something I've been highly embarrassed of. Even though I hated my body, I would continue to binge eat and find myself into bars of chocolate, packets of crisps etc until I was feeling unwell from the amount of food I had been eating. Eating past the point of full, hidden away in my room.
I know that arguably, this itself wasn't an issue. So what I used to eat too much junk food? What kid at that age didn't?
It's only now looking back, when I start pairing it with how I was feeling at the time that I start to see it as an issue.
Especially during secondary school, I began to feel really down and low about my weight. I would eat and then feel absolutely guilty and absolutely hate myself but I couldn't control what I was eating because the thoughts and feelings I wanted to block out were getting worse and worse and made me feel like I needed to binge more and more.
The more I ate, the more I gained weight and the worse the comments would get. I was often made fun of because of my weight, and as I said, being a very active person who threw myself into sport, being seen as overweight was a thing that was highly mocked and laughed at, especially at that age. On many occasions, I was brought to tears because I couldn't handle the comments I was receiving. It all got worse and worse until I finally had enough of everything, which is when I fell quickly into a state of depression that even today I still find myself struggling to rise from.
This is when my eating habits became more unhealthy. When I would have days where I would eat either twice my usual amount or eat absolutely nothing at all. I would manage to avoid eating anything at school by taking in a packed lunch (which I wouldn't eat because I "ate a large breakfast" when really I ate nothing) and I would avoid eating at home by telling my parents I had already eaten because they trusted me enough to cook for myself at home. And the days where I would eat more than 'normal' I would eat a packed lunch and a cooked lunch at school, as well as eating 2 dinners at home and eating all the junk food i could get a hold of. This drastic shift with no in between made me constantly tired, moody and unwell to the point I was having days after days off school. And at this point, I was only 14.
Slowly but surely as I settled into my friendship group and the comments started to fade away, I managed to realise that my habits needed to change. Even though I was still battling with the lowness and the significant lack of self-confidence which still is there today, in a sense I was "lucky" in that I managed to be able to "fix" myself in time before it got any worse. I managed to somehow bring myself back together when I was heading towards a potentially life-threatening and changing eating disorder.
In the UK it is believed that over 725,000 people have an eating disorder of some kind.
Anorexia has the highest mortality rate of any psychiatric disorder, with around 20% of those with anorexia losing their life due to the fatal impact on their physical health or suicide.
I am not an expert in information about eating disorders and I will never claim to be. I cannot sit here and say I really know that much information about them, except what I have witnesses through friends and classmates who have struggled with an eating disorder.
The effects I have seen absolutely terrify me.
It scares me how that the impact an eating disorder has on your weight (which to my understanding is a big factor in diagnosis and admissions) comes greatly after the mental aspect of any ED.
It scares me that there are people not receiving help who are in need of it because they aren't deemed "sick enough"
Eating disorders aren't always a physical manifestation. In the same way that depression, OCD, anxiety etc are mental health issues, all forms of eating disorder stem from a mental health issue.
They are complex problems. They cause distorted thinking, extreme lack of confidence, depression, suicidal thoughts, feelings of worthlessness and can lead to extreme physical problems that can cause life threatening complications even after "recovery".
They are real, serious issues that need to be accepted, addressed and intervened before the point of serious ill physical health for those who have an eating disorder.
It is important for people to understand eating disorders, so people can be there to help a friend, family member, colleague or stranger recover from their problem before it is too late.
Thursday, 23 February 2017
Drive You Away
The moment I realised that my depression had driven you away was the moment I realised that I had been taken away to.
The moment that you simply couldn't handle the mood swings, the clinging, the part of me that told myself you hated me even though I knew it wasn't true. The moment you had enough of the person you believed me to be when really the person I am was screaming from inside because I needed you more than ever and I knew you were done.
I'm not saying that you shouldn't have left. Part of me doesn't blame you. Part of me knows that if it was the flip side and you were the one struggling, I would get annoyed eventually at the way you acted. I would get annoyed and think about leaving because part of me would convince myself that our friendship wasn't worth it.
But that's the difference you see. I would've thought about it. You went through with it.
Did you at one point ever stop to think that I needed you? Like when you needed me? Do you remember that I was there for you constantly when you were struggling and at your worst because I was your friend and that's what I was supposed to do. For part of our friendship, I put your happiness way above mine and when I needed you to return that love, you decided my needs were too much.
Did you ever stop to think about the consequences of that action? Did you ever think for one second that arguing and leaving me at a time I needed you would make all of the thoughts and emotions in my brain ten times worse than they already were? Did you ever consider the fact that I was obviously at breaking point, but you still felt it appropriate to complete the final blow that would break me into thousands of pieces?
Do I not deserved to be loved at my worst like I was loved at my best?
At my worst I may not be the smiling, pretty sarcastic and bubbly friend that I can be, and I know that. At my worst I pushed you away. I couldn't bare to face you or be anywhere near you because I was too afraid to show you a side of me that I couldn't accept myself. I didn't want you to see the part of me that was hurting because I didn't want my pain to hurt you to. I didn't want you to see my struggling because I knew you were struggling too and I didn't want to make it any harder on you.
I was hurting inside and you decided the best course of action was to leave.
I knew you were leaving and I opened up.
I was low and I opened up.
I opened up like you wanted me to. I told you everything. I told you that I was not okay and that theres something not quite right with my brain but you still fucking left anyway because the fact you were the cure for my pain didn't mean anything to you. You still left because even after all the tears, the pleas, the begging you to stay didn't mean anything because you never cared about me in the smallest way. You left because you didn't want it to get any better.
I was never good enough for you.
For you it was okay to leave because "i drove you away", because it was just a reason to leave me, a reason you'd probably been hopelessly searching for.
It was like part of you wanted me to hurt, wanted me to spiral, wanted me to be so unhappy that part of me actually forgot what being happy actually was. Part of you wanted me to feel numb, unloved, lonely, worthless. Part of you wanted the depression to get worse, the anxiety to heighten to levels so high that every time I leave my room my heart beats ten times faster and ten times louder.
You wanted me to break. You wanted me to cry. You wanted to break my recovery. You wanted me to suffer. You wanted me to be alone again. You wanted me to feel low.
You wanted to blame me.
You wanted this to be my fault so everyone left me and I was all alone.
You wanted me to be the bad guy, you wanted me to feel like I couldn't go on.
And you won.
You made me into a person I never thought I would be. You made my mental health state the worst it's ever been and you can't even reply to my messages or look me in the eye anymore, and it's probably not from the guilt or the sorrow. You won't look into my eyes because you know it would hurt me more this way.
You knew how to break me in ways I didn't know I could break myself.
You knew that I absolutely admired you, and you suddenly taking that away would tear me into so many pieces that I wouldn't know how to put them back together.
You were the hunter, I was the mark. You waited patiently for the right time to shoot me down because you knew I was most vulnerable at that moment.
You took who I was and left a shell of myself. You left me broken, you left me needing love.
But I guess its all my fault, because I completely drove you away. And there's nothing I can do about it.
The moment that you simply couldn't handle the mood swings, the clinging, the part of me that told myself you hated me even though I knew it wasn't true. The moment you had enough of the person you believed me to be when really the person I am was screaming from inside because I needed you more than ever and I knew you were done.
I'm not saying that you shouldn't have left. Part of me doesn't blame you. Part of me knows that if it was the flip side and you were the one struggling, I would get annoyed eventually at the way you acted. I would get annoyed and think about leaving because part of me would convince myself that our friendship wasn't worth it.
But that's the difference you see. I would've thought about it. You went through with it.
Did you at one point ever stop to think that I needed you? Like when you needed me? Do you remember that I was there for you constantly when you were struggling and at your worst because I was your friend and that's what I was supposed to do. For part of our friendship, I put your happiness way above mine and when I needed you to return that love, you decided my needs were too much.
Did you ever stop to think about the consequences of that action? Did you ever think for one second that arguing and leaving me at a time I needed you would make all of the thoughts and emotions in my brain ten times worse than they already were? Did you ever consider the fact that I was obviously at breaking point, but you still felt it appropriate to complete the final blow that would break me into thousands of pieces?
Do I not deserved to be loved at my worst like I was loved at my best?
At my worst I may not be the smiling, pretty sarcastic and bubbly friend that I can be, and I know that. At my worst I pushed you away. I couldn't bare to face you or be anywhere near you because I was too afraid to show you a side of me that I couldn't accept myself. I didn't want you to see the part of me that was hurting because I didn't want my pain to hurt you to. I didn't want you to see my struggling because I knew you were struggling too and I didn't want to make it any harder on you.
I was hurting inside and you decided the best course of action was to leave.
I knew you were leaving and I opened up.
I was low and I opened up.
I opened up like you wanted me to. I told you everything. I told you that I was not okay and that theres something not quite right with my brain but you still fucking left anyway because the fact you were the cure for my pain didn't mean anything to you. You still left because even after all the tears, the pleas, the begging you to stay didn't mean anything because you never cared about me in the smallest way. You left because you didn't want it to get any better.
I was never good enough for you.
For you it was okay to leave because "i drove you away", because it was just a reason to leave me, a reason you'd probably been hopelessly searching for.
It was like part of you wanted me to hurt, wanted me to spiral, wanted me to be so unhappy that part of me actually forgot what being happy actually was. Part of you wanted me to feel numb, unloved, lonely, worthless. Part of you wanted the depression to get worse, the anxiety to heighten to levels so high that every time I leave my room my heart beats ten times faster and ten times louder.
You wanted me to break. You wanted me to cry. You wanted to break my recovery. You wanted me to suffer. You wanted me to be alone again. You wanted me to feel low.
You wanted to blame me.
You wanted this to be my fault so everyone left me and I was all alone.
You wanted me to be the bad guy, you wanted me to feel like I couldn't go on.
And you won.
You made me into a person I never thought I would be. You made my mental health state the worst it's ever been and you can't even reply to my messages or look me in the eye anymore, and it's probably not from the guilt or the sorrow. You won't look into my eyes because you know it would hurt me more this way.
You knew how to break me in ways I didn't know I could break myself.
You knew that I absolutely admired you, and you suddenly taking that away would tear me into so many pieces that I wouldn't know how to put them back together.
You were the hunter, I was the mark. You waited patiently for the right time to shoot me down because you knew I was most vulnerable at that moment.
You took who I was and left a shell of myself. You left me broken, you left me needing love.
But I guess its all my fault, because I completely drove you away. And there's nothing I can do about it.
Thursday, 9 February 2017
Rock Bottom
You know when you've hit rock bottom.
For my friend it was when she called me at 3am because she just found out some awful family news and couldn't get home to be with them. For a classmate it was when she received a failed mark back from an essay she worked ridiculously hard on for weeks.
For me, it was when I was sat thinking of ways that it could get any worse and struggling to find any reasons because everything bad that I could think of happening to me had already happened. It was when I was messaging my friend at 6pm because I felt really panicky but didn't have the courage to tell any of the 8 of my friends surrounding me that I felt this way. It was when I drunkenly cried for hours in my room and relapsed for the first time in months because I felt so defeated that I felt like I couldn't do anything but. It was when my parents saw in my eyes for the first time that I wasn't looking happy and they then proceeded to spend the next few weeks worrying about me like crazy because I was at university and they thought something was seriously wrong.
I knew I'd hit rock bottom because there was no further way down. The depression was an abyss and I was sat at the bottom, feeling sorry for myself and wondering how I could ever get myself out. I was stuck in what I thought was a never ending pit that turned out to actually have a bottom. And rock bottom isn't a great place to be. It's missing 3/5 of your weekly lectures because you are physically unable to get out of bed. It's missing out on social events because you need to be in your room and alone because you can't deal with the thought of seeing anyone. It's eating nothing or eating twice your daily needs.
It's dark. Cold. Numb. Emotional. Painful. Tiring. Lonely.
It's an array of feelings you feel normally anyway, just amplified to a deafening tune that you cannot rid of no matter your attempts.
But it's also a journey.
As you sit at rock bottom thinking that there is only one way out, you come to realise that you've come to this and you're still alive, so there must be a way out.
It's full of learning. Trial and error. Failure. Success. You learn things about yourself that you wouldn't have ever learnt unless you were currently sat at rock bottom wishing that you could fly back to the light.
Once you realise that there is a way out, you learn. You try one thing and fail, but it fuels you even more to get back to the top.
You make your first step above rock bottom.
The darkness still consumes you but now you have the ability to be fuelled by the thoughts of successfully climbing even a quarter of the way to the top because any distance is better than sitting at the bottom.
You continue to try.
You let out your emotions, you reach out for help. You realise that even though someone can't fall down to rock bottom to physically help you out, they can shout down advice and help to guide you to the beginning of a recovery.
You fall back down but this time you stand straight back up because you were this low before and you know now what to do to reach the top again. You aren't alone this time. Someone is there to lend a hand and you have the belief in yourself that you can do it. You know it's possible.
You climb higher.
Everyone climbs at different rates from when they reach rock bottom. It could take hours, days, months or years for different people but sooner or later the aid you need to climb will be there. Whether that's guidance, medication, CBT, a smile, any climbing aid will help you climb back up.
I climbed that much higher that I was okay with leaving the house again. I was okay with feeling anxious in public because I realised that I needed to feel this if I wanted recovery. I realised if I wanted recovery I had to talk to someone because it's so much easier to recover when you have someone there to encourage you that it'll be okay.
And yes, I fell.
I slipped up completely not long ago and found myself at the bottom again with worries that this time, I really won't be able to climb back up.
But it's a learning curve.
When you're at rock bottom you learn so much more about yourself and about life than when you're sat at the top looking down and thinking about how bad it would be to fall in.
When you're at the bottom you know it can't get darker, and that makes you stronger, somewhat happier and kits you up with the tools you need when you feel any sort of pain in your life. You don't fear the moment you might fall again if you're at the bottom.
And when you accept that you will be able to climb back up, it makes it easier. It makes any pain that bit easier to deal with. It makes you absolutely elated when you make that step up because it's progress you never thought you'd be able to make. Every fall and every climb progresses your ability to be able to cope with rock bottom.
It's all a journey. You realise that yes, everything may have been bad yesterday but you survived that storm, so you realise you can survive this one too.
Rock bottom isn't a nice place to be. But once you're there and accept that you need to start climbing back up, it can be one of the most rewarding battles you'll ever face.
Because when you reach your goal, whether that be a few steps up or back to the top, it'll be the best feeling in the world.
Rock bottom isn't the end.
It's only the beginning.
For my friend it was when she called me at 3am because she just found out some awful family news and couldn't get home to be with them. For a classmate it was when she received a failed mark back from an essay she worked ridiculously hard on for weeks.
For me, it was when I was sat thinking of ways that it could get any worse and struggling to find any reasons because everything bad that I could think of happening to me had already happened. It was when I was messaging my friend at 6pm because I felt really panicky but didn't have the courage to tell any of the 8 of my friends surrounding me that I felt this way. It was when I drunkenly cried for hours in my room and relapsed for the first time in months because I felt so defeated that I felt like I couldn't do anything but. It was when my parents saw in my eyes for the first time that I wasn't looking happy and they then proceeded to spend the next few weeks worrying about me like crazy because I was at university and they thought something was seriously wrong.
I knew I'd hit rock bottom because there was no further way down. The depression was an abyss and I was sat at the bottom, feeling sorry for myself and wondering how I could ever get myself out. I was stuck in what I thought was a never ending pit that turned out to actually have a bottom. And rock bottom isn't a great place to be. It's missing 3/5 of your weekly lectures because you are physically unable to get out of bed. It's missing out on social events because you need to be in your room and alone because you can't deal with the thought of seeing anyone. It's eating nothing or eating twice your daily needs.
It's dark. Cold. Numb. Emotional. Painful. Tiring. Lonely.
It's an array of feelings you feel normally anyway, just amplified to a deafening tune that you cannot rid of no matter your attempts.
But it's also a journey.
As you sit at rock bottom thinking that there is only one way out, you come to realise that you've come to this and you're still alive, so there must be a way out.
It's full of learning. Trial and error. Failure. Success. You learn things about yourself that you wouldn't have ever learnt unless you were currently sat at rock bottom wishing that you could fly back to the light.
Once you realise that there is a way out, you learn. You try one thing and fail, but it fuels you even more to get back to the top.
You make your first step above rock bottom.
The darkness still consumes you but now you have the ability to be fuelled by the thoughts of successfully climbing even a quarter of the way to the top because any distance is better than sitting at the bottom.
You continue to try.
You let out your emotions, you reach out for help. You realise that even though someone can't fall down to rock bottom to physically help you out, they can shout down advice and help to guide you to the beginning of a recovery.
You fall back down but this time you stand straight back up because you were this low before and you know now what to do to reach the top again. You aren't alone this time. Someone is there to lend a hand and you have the belief in yourself that you can do it. You know it's possible.
You climb higher.
Everyone climbs at different rates from when they reach rock bottom. It could take hours, days, months or years for different people but sooner or later the aid you need to climb will be there. Whether that's guidance, medication, CBT, a smile, any climbing aid will help you climb back up.
I climbed that much higher that I was okay with leaving the house again. I was okay with feeling anxious in public because I realised that I needed to feel this if I wanted recovery. I realised if I wanted recovery I had to talk to someone because it's so much easier to recover when you have someone there to encourage you that it'll be okay.
And yes, I fell.
I slipped up completely not long ago and found myself at the bottom again with worries that this time, I really won't be able to climb back up.
But it's a learning curve.
When you're at rock bottom you learn so much more about yourself and about life than when you're sat at the top looking down and thinking about how bad it would be to fall in.
When you're at the bottom you know it can't get darker, and that makes you stronger, somewhat happier and kits you up with the tools you need when you feel any sort of pain in your life. You don't fear the moment you might fall again if you're at the bottom.
And when you accept that you will be able to climb back up, it makes it easier. It makes any pain that bit easier to deal with. It makes you absolutely elated when you make that step up because it's progress you never thought you'd be able to make. Every fall and every climb progresses your ability to be able to cope with rock bottom.
It's all a journey. You realise that yes, everything may have been bad yesterday but you survived that storm, so you realise you can survive this one too.
Rock bottom isn't a nice place to be. But once you're there and accept that you need to start climbing back up, it can be one of the most rewarding battles you'll ever face.
Because when you reach your goal, whether that be a few steps up or back to the top, it'll be the best feeling in the world.
Rock bottom isn't the end.
It's only the beginning.
Monday, 23 January 2017
To Better Days
Here's to the better days.
The days where waking up isn't a chore. The days where happiness is genuine. The days where you can go out in public without the fear of everyone judging you. The days where you don't worry about your weight. The days you feel like you're living instead of counting the days until you die.
To be free of the days the days that will replace the mental illness. To the days free from struggles. To the days where you don't feel worthy of recovery. To the days where you don't overthink your happiness away. To the days where you aren't battling with your mind to do things you'll regret doing. To the days where you lose all hope. To the days where you don't let your illness conquer you.
To be free.
To the better days.
To the days of smiling and laughing until tears are falling from your eyes like raindrops fall from the sky.
To the days where nothing anyone says matters because you aren't concerned about what others think of you.
To the days where time means nothing because you're having so much fun that it feels like it will never end.
To the days where you're living instead of surviving.
You never know whats round the corner.
You never know if tomorrows the day you get a promotion, you fall in love. You never know if tomorrows the day you will finally and slowly start to feel better about yourself. You never know if tomorrows the day that you ace that assignment, if tomorrows the day you finally figure out what you want to do with your life. If tomorrows the day you get over the heartbreak. If tomorrows the day you make up with someone you lost, if tomorrows the day you have the confidence to reach out for help.
To better days.
To the days where you are happy to be alive.
To the days where you look back on the thoughts you are having right now and are proud of yourself for getting past all that hardship because it allowed you to see the beauty of a today.
Because these days will come. The day will come where the rain gradually turns into sunshine and you realise that the storm actually does end. The day will come where you finally go to the doctor, you finally open up to someone and get the weight of the world off your shoulders. The day where you can finally breathe after suffocating in silence for so long.
Even if those better days aren't right now. Even if those better days are only a glimpse and even if the road to better days is bumpy and full of relapse that makes you feel like you're getting back to stage one. Even if the road to better days is taking years and years so your progress is masked by the length of the suffering.
Some progress is better than none.
Your present isn't your future. Better days are ahead.
Everyday is a chance at a new. The sun will rise and we will try again.
Better days are on the horizon.
Please, be around to see them.
The days where waking up isn't a chore. The days where happiness is genuine. The days where you can go out in public without the fear of everyone judging you. The days where you don't worry about your weight. The days you feel like you're living instead of counting the days until you die.
To be free of the days the days that will replace the mental illness. To the days free from struggles. To the days where you don't feel worthy of recovery. To the days where you don't overthink your happiness away. To the days where you aren't battling with your mind to do things you'll regret doing. To the days where you lose all hope. To the days where you don't let your illness conquer you.
To be free.
To the better days.
To the days of smiling and laughing until tears are falling from your eyes like raindrops fall from the sky.
To the days where nothing anyone says matters because you aren't concerned about what others think of you.
To the days where time means nothing because you're having so much fun that it feels like it will never end.
To the days where you're living instead of surviving.
You never know whats round the corner.
You never know if tomorrows the day you get a promotion, you fall in love. You never know if tomorrows the day you will finally and slowly start to feel better about yourself. You never know if tomorrows the day that you ace that assignment, if tomorrows the day you finally figure out what you want to do with your life. If tomorrows the day you get over the heartbreak. If tomorrows the day you make up with someone you lost, if tomorrows the day you have the confidence to reach out for help.
To better days.
To the days where you are happy to be alive.
To the days where you look back on the thoughts you are having right now and are proud of yourself for getting past all that hardship because it allowed you to see the beauty of a today.
Because these days will come. The day will come where the rain gradually turns into sunshine and you realise that the storm actually does end. The day will come where you finally go to the doctor, you finally open up to someone and get the weight of the world off your shoulders. The day where you can finally breathe after suffocating in silence for so long.
Even if those better days aren't right now. Even if those better days are only a glimpse and even if the road to better days is bumpy and full of relapse that makes you feel like you're getting back to stage one. Even if the road to better days is taking years and years so your progress is masked by the length of the suffering.
Some progress is better than none.
Your present isn't your future. Better days are ahead.
Everyday is a chance at a new. The sun will rise and we will try again.
Better days are on the horizon.
Please, be around to see them.
Thursday, 12 January 2017
Cycle
Cycle
Anxiety is a cycle.
I know that especially recently, my anxiety has been especially bad. I know that in public i've been clasping my phone that bit tighter, i've been trying to block out everyone around me that bit harder, i've been more concious with my actions to avoid embarrassment.
I know that.
I know that like I knew this wasn't normal. I know that like I know I really should go to a doctor to get the help I need to fix all of this.
But that's the whole problem isn't it?
If my anxiety is getting higher and higher, my will to call a doctor is getting lower and lower.
If i can't cope with doing anything new that bit more, if I can't go to a new room at uni without leaving 30 minutes before I need to be there because I'm worried about being late, if I'm ignoring great opportunities because I'm anxious of meeting new people, if I'm that bit more anxious about even walking in public or moving around people, then how will I be able to do anything?
Everytime i make a phone call, my heart rate accelerates and I feel the pounding in my chest. My breathing increases, my head hurts, I start to shake, I'll mess up my words. I'll put the phone down midway through it ringing at least 4 times until I will hold on until the person answers the phone.
If I cannot make a phone call to a friend without having a mini panic attack, how can I call that doctor?
I once nearly didn't go to a doctors appointment about an injection that my mum booked for me, because neither of my parents could come with me.
I lost money from my car insurance cashback because i couldn't physically make a phone call.
I once went into work when I was too ill to even get out of bed because I couldn't deal with the anxiety I had from the thought of phoning in.
Do you see where this is going??
The longer I put off calling the doctor, the worse the anxiety gets.
The worse the anxiety gets, the longer I put off calling the doctor.
It's a cycle.
It's a vicious cycle that I found myself a part of and theres nothing I can do to stop myself from falling deeper into a pit of sadness and anxiety because my anxiety and sadness mean I can't do anything about it.
Its a cycle.
It's a cycle thats hard to be free of.
I wish one day that I can be.
Anxiety is a cycle.
I know that especially recently, my anxiety has been especially bad. I know that in public i've been clasping my phone that bit tighter, i've been trying to block out everyone around me that bit harder, i've been more concious with my actions to avoid embarrassment.
I know that.
I know that like I knew this wasn't normal. I know that like I know I really should go to a doctor to get the help I need to fix all of this.
But that's the whole problem isn't it?
If my anxiety is getting higher and higher, my will to call a doctor is getting lower and lower.
If i can't cope with doing anything new that bit more, if I can't go to a new room at uni without leaving 30 minutes before I need to be there because I'm worried about being late, if I'm ignoring great opportunities because I'm anxious of meeting new people, if I'm that bit more anxious about even walking in public or moving around people, then how will I be able to do anything?
Everytime i make a phone call, my heart rate accelerates and I feel the pounding in my chest. My breathing increases, my head hurts, I start to shake, I'll mess up my words. I'll put the phone down midway through it ringing at least 4 times until I will hold on until the person answers the phone.
If I cannot make a phone call to a friend without having a mini panic attack, how can I call that doctor?
I once nearly didn't go to a doctors appointment about an injection that my mum booked for me, because neither of my parents could come with me.
I lost money from my car insurance cashback because i couldn't physically make a phone call.
I once went into work when I was too ill to even get out of bed because I couldn't deal with the anxiety I had from the thought of phoning in.
Do you see where this is going??
The longer I put off calling the doctor, the worse the anxiety gets.
The worse the anxiety gets, the longer I put off calling the doctor.
It's a cycle.
It's a vicious cycle that I found myself a part of and theres nothing I can do to stop myself from falling deeper into a pit of sadness and anxiety because my anxiety and sadness mean I can't do anything about it.
Its a cycle.
It's a cycle thats hard to be free of.
I wish one day that I can be.
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