Let's Talk About Thirteen Reasons Why

*Notes, Spoiler Alerts.
 PS, alot of this is rather negative towards parts of the show, if you're even going to bother to publically be shitty about this then just stop reading now. These are MY opinions from the perspective of a person who has previously been in a very similar place to Hannah, so the whole "i bet they don't even understand mental health" shit doesn't apply if you don't agree, bye.
PPS, links at the bottom if you are ever in need of help in regards to mental health / suicide.*


As many of you may know, 13 Reasons Why is a novel released by author Jay Asher, which has now been made into a 13 part series on Netflix. (Before I properly start, I love Asher as an author and human being, cool)

It tells the story of Hannah Baker (Played by Katherine Langford) and ultimately why she decided to commit suicide. The focus of the story is based around 13 recorded tapes, that explain why she made this decision. These tapes are passed around her classmates who made up the reasons. But this story is "told" as Clay Jensen has the tapes, a person unlike everyone else in the story. It is represented on Netflix through 13 episodes, one for each tape, each episode an hour or so long. It is also rather addictive.

13 Reasons Why (TRW) was a book I read and loved as a child. But when I was reading it all those years ago, I didn't have an understanding like I do now about mental health. The book was published when I was 11. I read it aged 12. At this point in my life, I didn't know what mental health, self harm and suicide even really was. I didn't think it to be a "thing" that people actually did. But now, I know different. And with mental health being a topic I am highly passionate about, when I heard about the series I was highly expectant of it's portrayal of a topic dear to my heart. Also on that point, reading it so young meant i didn't really remember what happened. So I was excited to refresh my memory.

And even though I did enjoy the series, I have mixed reviews of it. Yes, it got me completely hooked and led to a binge watch (when I should've been studying for my degree but whatevs first year doesn't count right?), but there are parts of the portrayal I loved and parts I just didn't agree with.

So here it goes.

First things first, I want to talk about my absolute favourite part of the series, which is probably not really spoken about enough if I'm honest. Hannah's parents. 

The thing about wanting to die, is the belief that everyone would be happier without you being alive. For many people, you think you are more of a burden to people than any form of worth, and that you'd be making people's lives better if you were gone. You might also think that no one would miss you or even realise you weren't alive.

And that is what I love about the series. The acting of Hannah's parent's is absolutely commendable. Yes, it is obvious that other characters too are feeling the same anger and grief, however it is mainly seen through her parents constant emotional display that completely pulled on my heart strings. It's one thing being told that the effects of suicide are real and bigger than you will realise, but to see how her parents and friends lives were shattered and affected by her suicide I personally believe is such a needed portrayal in society, and really fucking hit home. You often convince yourself that no one cares about you, but this just showed that people do. People do care about you, and it really makes you think again about putting these people through such horrible emotions and horrible times. I don't think I could ever understand what parents in that situation must be going through, but the show portrays it in a way that tries to tell the story.

Another thing I actually liked was the layout of the series. I liked that it was one episode per tape. I loved how Clay paused the tapes and then everything around him carried on. I loved how it wasn't solely focused on Hannah all the time. It flowed so well and at this point I give a shout out to Clay Jensen (played by Dylan Minnette) for not rushing through the tapes, and telling the story so fucking well. I loved how past Clay/Hannah and present Clay matched up together at certain points (like the scene at the car crash or the basketball match). It brought the story to life in a way that words alone couldn't do. It was wonderful and so well done. My only issue was the whole one hour episodes thing, because it dragged the story on certain peoples tapes on way longer than it needed to, but I guess that's more binge watching time.

Right. Now lets go onto my negatives.

Lets start with Clay. Ah Clay, a cute little innocent guy, who just loved Hannah Baker. This point isn't actually about Clay himself. I loved Clay, I thought he was great. He was real and awesome and you could tell how much this was affecting him and I was so damn worried about his mental state for so long, I was convinced he was in the ambulance (if you're reading and didn't want spoilers, I warned you). He says my favourite line in the show, "Everyone is just so nice until they drive you to kill yourself". He wants to make everything known to the world like it should've been, especially with Bryce. I admired Clay as a character.

What I hated was the "I cost a girl her life because I was afraid to love her" line. Now let me stop you there. No matter what any of the characters or people in this world thing, LOVE DOES NOT SAVE EVERYTHING. Why is the message that love conquers all even linked to this. I personally feel like it tries to hint at the whole, if someone finds love they won't want to commit suicide idea, which just isn't true. Yeah, love is wonderful, but it doesn't fix your thoughts. It doesn't make your mental health suddenly any better than it was when you weren't in love. People in love still commit suicide, because  feelings of suicide is a complex, horrible thing that doesn't have one easy solution. Neither does mental health.

This kinda brings me onto my next point. Mental health in the show isn't mentioned directly and it should have. No, you don't need to have a mental health difficulty to have suicidal feelings. That's not what I'm saying. But many characters have obvious signs of some sort of problem/addiction, that I personally felt should have been addressed. Alex showed signs of being suicidal (yes i believe he shot himself in the head, fuck this whole it was Tyler shit), Justin was abused at home, that was kinda brushed off. Hannah was probably suffering from some form of PTSD (Jessica may have too) and probably depression. I also think Clay has symptoms of (social) anxiety. But not one of these words were even mentioned.

A show that was so passionate about teenagers mental health and suicide prevention, I personally believe NEEDED to have said these things. A person may be sat watching thinking that they had similar symptoms to a character, realise they may have a similar or the same mental health problem, and then talk to someone about it. Because at the end of the day, that is a huge part the show should be playing. Also, there was a significant sub story surrounding their underage drinking and alcohol/drug abuse that was also brushed off and in my personal opinion, didn't even make it seem like this was a problem. And it damn well should have. Because, kinda speaking from experience, reliance on alcohol to make your problems go away is a very bad thing to do, which can easily turn into an alcohol addiction to make everything okay. Which it doesn't. I can vouch for that.

Another shorter point. Yes, TRW, thank you for having trigger warnings on the episodes with rape and with Hannah's suicide. They were so needed it's unreal. I knew from the start I couldn't dare to watch the suicide scene, so when I knew it was coming I was able to find out the timings and skip it. However, I personally think a few more were needed. The episodes with Hannah laying dead on the basketball court I think needed a TW. Ones with abuse of Justin I think did to. And a few more did. But they weren't there and I felt really shit and uncomfortable and mentally not okay for a while after watching certain scenes, all because of the lack of a warning. I know, a show about suicide is going to be rather triggering, but I still don't want to unexpectedly see a girl with cut open arms appearing on my screen. It isn't okay.

My final and probably biggest thing about the series was Hannah's portrayal. At a writing level. I think Katherine did a wonderful job as Hannah. But at a character level, honestly, parts made her seem like a whiny little bitch. Yeah, I said it. Obviously I'm not saying she was, because I said at the start, I know what it's like. I know how much words can slice you down, how every little thing bundles up to a point you just cannot do it anymore. But, she was portrayed at many times as an attention seeker, a liar ("why would a dead girl lie?". By the end, some characters understand (kinda) that she wasn't attention seeking, but once again, this wasn't properly addressed. It adds the fuel to the fire about suicide being selfish, and that is not okay.

 My main issue though for this point, was actually the tape system. This isn't something I actually active hated until I spoke to a friend after finishing. Look, I know it's kinda the whole plot of the book and series. It's a nice creative idea yes, but not realistic enough. Not that it had to be, it just was portrayed too realistically (dw, I know what I mean), for me to be able to look past it and be like, yeah okay I can roll with it. Also, I hate, hate hate hate how she didn't leave her parents a note. It's bad enough that her parents have to go through this, let alone do it without closure from Hannah. THEY deserved closure and some answers. Personally, I don't believe the people who hurt her deserved it, if her own parents weren't getting it. And the whole "everyone hears everyone elses tapes" doesn't fly by me either, because that makes it into a game of pass the blame, which also shouldn't have happened. Why? Because the only person who I personally believe was to blame was BRYCE FUCKING WALKER, who didn't even hear the tapes. Oh, and suicide isn't a game of "who did it". You hear me?

All of this, makes Hannah seem abit bratty. Who would put her friends/old friends through the pain they went through? Why on earth was Clay/Alex and even Jessica etc put on the same fucking set of tapes as Bryce. Surely she knew that it would push them over the edge. Because it made me feel awful, and I wasn't even involved (obviously). You wouldn't put the people you love through that, you just wouldn't.

And I'm not saying that what happened to Hannah was in any way okay. I said earlier, I know how much words and actions hurt. How badly pictures can ruin your life. And I cannot imagine how awful witnessing a rape and being raped must have been. I would never wish that on anyone, I have so much respect for all rape survivors I cannot even put it into words. But I cannot convince myself that anyone could realistically record these stories onto the tapes and get the people that "hurt her" to listen, because truth be told, they're probably all emotional messes as it is.

Hannah could and should have been portrayed abit better in my opinion, that's all I'm saying. Because, Hannah Baker, "You're good and kind and decent. And I didn't deserve to be with someone like you. I never would. It would have ruined you. It wasn't you. It was me" and "Why didn't you say that to me when I was alive" are two quotes that I wish you had never said. Because it makes me really angry, that you didn't want to ruin Clay, but then proceeding to put him on these tapes (surely you knew it would have ruined him). And you cannot say he "killed you" for leaving a room after you told him to fuck off a good 3 or 4 times. Come on, please.

And that's where I'll end off the ranting.

I'll end it there for a few reasons, but mainly because, despite all the problems I had with the show, I still think it needs to be watched. Not because "it shows people that words really hurt" because if you didn't already know that then you are a complete ignorant asshole, but because I really think the aftermath of a suicide needs to be shown. It just needs to be. People need to visually see that suicide leads to horrible consequences, whether that be guilt if you played a significant part or grief because you lost a love one. Because seeing (especially the latter) this portrayed can honestly hit people in a way that words simply cannot, and here I speak from experience.

Yes, it has flaws. But those are my personal opinions. People have different perspectives, I get that. Some people think it did a wonderful job of expressing it's points, I personally think it could have done better. Mental health and suicide are topics that, even though the stigma now is breaking down for, are just not talked about enough. This show opens the topic to people that may not have understood it beforehand, it gives a message that I have not seen often enough in the media and that is something I respect. I respect the fact the show spoke to psychologists and even people who had experienced this kind of thing, to make it as realistic as possible. Justin Prentice (who plays Bryce) even says how devastating the script was to him, but how he felt he had to play it as best he could so viewers saw the message and understand that it's okay to talk about this. On the whole, the etiquette of everyone involved was wonderful and I am SO thankful that they went through this process.

And even though I felt abit let down by the series, I am so thankful it exists. I hope it sends around the message that suicide is never the answer and that it is okay to talk about this kind of thing.

PS, massive shoutout to Tony. I loved Tony, he also looks like Bruno Mars. He is genuine, a good stalker (shade to Tyler) and a fantastic friend. The coming out to Clay scene was my favourite bit of all 13ish hours. It was wonderful 100/10.




// If you ever feel suicidal and are in urgent need of help, this website contains a list of suicide hotlines for all the countries in the world, no matter where you are, help is avaliable. http://www.suicide.org/international-suicide-hotlines.html

For more information about mental illness and suicide, visit www.mind.org.uk or www.childline.org.uk. 

Do not be afraid to talk about it. It'll all be okay. //

A Letter To My Closest Friends

To my Closest Friends.

To the ones who I have spent countless hours messaging and calling because I want to talk to you even though I just saw you 2 minutes ago. To the ones who have carried me home after one too many drink and the ones that I've carried home for the same reasons. To the ones who have given me laughing fits so hard I couldn't breathe. To the ones who calmed me down in midst of a panic. To the ones who believed in me. To the ones who are always there. To the ones I haven't spoken too in a few hours and to the ones I haven't spoken to in years.

This one goes out to you.

Thank you for making me feel less lonely in a horrible, isolated world.
Thank you for being there for me when I needed you, and thank you for letting me be there for you too.

The world can truly be a horrible place. But you have made it better. You have made the world look even a little bit better. You have provided a light in a dark cave, a sign of hope when all felt lost. You have made me feel at home, whether I'm with you or not.

Friendship is a wonderful thing.

The happiest I feel is when I'm with you. Whether that's going to theme parks, drinking together, playing football together, talking together or even texting over the phone. When I am in contact with you in any way, I feel happy. I feel wanted. I feel loved.

So thank you.

But also thank you for sticking to me. At times, it's probably been a challenge. I know I could be a better friend to you at times and that I have a habit of pushing people away.

Thank you, for pushing your way back in, or even refusing to leave.

Thank you for loving me at my worst like you do at my best. Thank you for all the little things. Thank you for replying to my texts, for getting me a drink, for offering to drive, for bringing me food because I'm too unwell to move. Thank you for introducing me to new things, for calming me down if I'm angry, for making me laugh on the days I need it. Thank you for the sleepovers, the shopping dates, the hugs, the laughs. Thank you for carrying me home because I had waaay too much wine. Thank you for buying me shots to cheer me up (yes, i appreciate it really).

Thank you for being the person I needed when I needed it most. Thank you for all the differences we have in hobbies and music taste. For the banter. For making me adopt your stupid phrasing like I'd spoken that way for my entire life. For smacking me back into reality when I needed it. For reminding me that I am not the enemy I think I am at times. For making me realise the truth. For being the sense of reason. For giving me something that made me feel like I was more than just me. For letting me be a part of something bigger than myself.

And thank you, for the big things. For being my emotional support when I was arguing. For helping me up when I fell. For being there at the time when I couldn't face the world. For being there when he passed away. For supporting me as much as you can when I called out to you. For not leaving me when I hurt you. For not leaving when I hurt myself. For not leaving when all I wanted was for it all to stop.

Thank you for being there when I felt like my life was falling apart. For when absolutely nothing made sense in my brain. For when I had all these things to say but all I could do was sit in silence and feel sorry for myself. Thank you for sending me classworks/notes when I was too anxious to go to lectures. Thank you for understanding my state and almost adapting your behaviour to make me okay. For going out of your way when I needed someone. Thank you for staying when I fell apart to you. Thank you for making me realise that people actually cared about me. For making me realise that people would stay, even when I was convinced that everyone would leave me eventually.

Thank you for everything you are doing to help me. And thank you for letting me help you. Thank you for telling me things first. Thank you for coming to me when you needed help with your relationships. When something had happened and you felt weak and lonely. When you wanted a night out to get away from everything. For helping me understand how to help others, which would then help me understand how to help myself.

You are all truly amazing.

So this is to you, my closest friends.

A thank you. A thank you for being the rock you have been to me. Whether we've been friends a few months or nearly 16 years. Whether I haven't spoken to you for a while or whether we are currently speaking right now.

Thank you for getting me through this. I truly could not be doing it without you.

Bad Habits

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.