Thursday, 11 June 2020

Do you know.

Do you know what it’s like ?
To be 30kg and then pregnant and pushing 70kg? 
To look down at your body, to know it’s for the heat: but your mind is a mess. You put in a face, and sometime. You believe it. You know it’s good for the baby. You are willing to sacrifice your body and anything for a healthy baby. Anything. 
It doesn’t mean that it’s not the most difficult thing you’ve ever done.
To look down and see roaring stretch marks all over places you never knew could. To have your body like out in so many places it seems unnatural. To look in the mirror and to see someone you don’t recognise.
Sure it’s all good.
But those moments are there.
When you throw clothes across the room. You throw your hairbrush, all your makeup, because nothing can change who you are and what you see. 

You seek so much comfort because you are so insecure. So insecure that no one can keep up with it. You need the push. Even though you’re believing they are lying. 

If you pretend long enough you might believe it yourself .

A happy ending? What is that. The works is so full of emotions I’m not sure happiness exists anymore. 

The whole world has gone mad! It’s completely overwhelming. Frightening and terrifying at the same time. This is not making history, this is destroying everything we have ever built. Soon there will be nothing left. 

There’s nothing more to give. Nothing anyone can say. No right move can be made from any leader. No individual. 
This is a disaster. 

Soon the borders will open, and the virus will return as the cases already spike. And then what? 

You can only please yourself. The world is not your oyster. 

There is so much to say on this subject. But I’ve already learnt extremely quickly not to say a word. Not to look anyone in the eye. Not to walk too fast. And not to look back. 

Wearing a mask might protect you from illness in the air, but what will save you from the destruction that flows through your veins? 

Monday, 25 May 2020

Tell me, don’t lie

Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray for the world, within my soul I weep. You may sleep safely through the night, some might feel the mornings light. After this day, I feel so defeated. Don’t worry be still, may you be seated. No encore, but more nightmares. They won’t quit, they won’t leave though I’m in the midst of despair. I can’t handle this no more, please give me a rest. You will feel nothing but pain beating out of my chest. Please if you read this just cut me some slack, I’m done you win just give me my life back

I told myself I wouldn’t post. I told myself I was better. I need to be better, and I am. And then it hits. Someone hits again and again though I’ve tried so hard to escape. 

I just want to be accepted. I want to be desired. I want to be respected. 

I want to be treated like a normal human being. 

I can’t change my past. It’s gone too wrong that I can’t even leave it behind me. 

This hole is dig so deep that no one can find me. 

This week I’ve regressed. I’ve come leaps and bounds yet regressed? 

I know not to talk and to hold my tongue. I shouldn’t say the thoughts that come to my head. I need to be like everyone else. Basically lame and mundane.

I used to pride myself at times for being different but it is very clear now it does not benefit anyone especially me. 

I can’t change anything, how I wish so hard I could. 

Please I beg for forgiveness. I’m not the person I ever wanted to be. 

I’m not the daughter a parent deserves and should stand by. 

I don’t deserve the love I’m offered. 

I get what I deserve. I get judgment. I get rumours and shame. I get hated, tarnished and gossiped. 

I am disliked and excluded. As has been majority of my life. 

Yet I have such wonderful people blessed in my life, my family and hopefully one day family in law, my very few friends and this little grub in my belly. 

I’m stopping now. I need rest. I woke up crying and now going back to sleep crying.  Today was a very bad day. The first bad day in a long time. 

Thursday, 12 March 2020


I don’t like disturbing others.
I don’t like asking for help. 
I know I’m a burden. 

I can’t ask for you, because I can’t ask for myself. 
So I suffer in silence. 
I face this pain alone in my mind.
I cry alone.
But I take my anger out on everyone around me.

I am a terrible person. 
I don’t believe this emptiness gets any better...

But I have to hope. 

Sunday, 8 March 2020

Insomnia strikes back

I am strong. 

I do not think people understand or appreciate just what I have been through, mostly in the last 10 years. The war in my mind. The destruction of my body and the destruction of my life. 
And yet I am alive. 
How did I live through so many near suicide attempts? 
How did the health system afford by bloody hundreds of admissions ?

Why am I still here? Why am I so lucky?
I’m left with permanent scars from cutting deep into my veins. It wasn’t deep enough unless I needed stitches. That made me feel so accomplished and yet so stupid for it was for everyone to see. 

It’s been a year. It’s been just over one year since I stopped cutting. 
Do I miss it? Honestly? 
...... yes. 
Do I miss being detained? No. 
Do I miss months on end in hospital? No

It’s been one year and 5 months since I had my last major overdose, very nearly losing my life. 
I was so broken. 
I really did not see life worth living. 

And I do still struggle. 
I can blame all the people in the world, but honestly I’m the one I hate. I don’t blame what’s happened to me, I do blame me, no matter what the therapy tells you. 
I am guilty. 
I carry that pain. 

I have nightmares where I wake up days later restrained in hospital. 
I have dreams of being forced tune fed. 

But I try to smile through. 
Very few see through that smile. 

This depression is consuming and yet I push on. 
I never knew the definition of depression but I think I might be it. 

I forget all this. I forget what I’ve been through. 
But I don’t forget the pain. It follows you everywhere. Every wrong move you make, every mistake, every time you drop something. Such a failure you think you are. 

And when you miscarry? And almost die from it? To fail subjects at uni, Then lose your job, to push on to only have your reputation tarnished. To not be allowed on premises. 
To be hated. 
To be despised? 

But why? 
What have I ever done to you? 
To be judged, when no one sits down, asks you how you are and know what you’re going through. 

To bring starred at for anorexia. 
To my scars being starred at. 
Judged for my medication list

And the local hospital refuse you when you are a day away from blood transfusions and almost losing your life. For not giving you the time of day. 

It’s no wonder I am angry. 

But I’m learning to accept things. That I can’t change people. That the world is the most fucked up place and there’s nothing you can do to change that. 

Only my family knows the percent of it.
Very few can bare to hear the details. I don’t blame them. 
My story is too messed and horrible

I am too messed up and horrible. 
And no one is ever going to accept me for that. 

So I lay awake between the nightmares. With this feeling  inside my stomach that never seems to cease. 

My judgement in myself I accept. What I have done I accept and I take responsibility for. 

But losing another job? Losing everything to where I am today? 
I can’t just yet. 
I hate myself and wish I would disappear. But the only ways I know how, don’t end well for me and anyone I love. 
I don’t want to do that. 

I want to have a good life.
I want to move on.
I want a job.
I want to raise my child and actually be somebody .

Instead of being a nobody.
I’m almost 27 years old. And my life is a complete disaster. 
I have nothing going for me. 

But I keep pushing on.
I keep trying to smile for no one else but myself.i know the only person I need to please is me. 
But how do I do that now without opportunities? 
When I get shut down? 
When I have no chance. 

I should write a book. I should write my story. Make something if this pain. 
But it will never shows the depths of emotion and pain I feel and have felt.
No one will quite understand. 
That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try.
But it also means that everyone will know my past this time in detail. And maybe I want that. Maybe I want those people who shunned me to realise what they’ve done and suffer. 

I don’t want to cause suffering though. I’ve been through enough not to wish that on anyone.
But anger does get the better of me. And I do believe that people should get what they deserve, and sometimes I don’t know if God will deliver that. But that’s undermining God. That’s not trusting and that’s not faith.
Shame on me. 

I can’t pray for suffering, revenge or debilitating injury. But I can pray for myself to accept these things. To take responsibility for my emotions and control them in a way I can help others not make the same mistakes that I have. 

So is nursing really the career for me? 
Or should I start writing my biography? You’d better start these things while you’re young I suppose, and well I’m getting quite ancient. 
My story isn’t over. And I don’t know how long it’s going to take. 
But I have to try. 
I have to start somewhere. 

So I will trust myself. 
And this one time more....

I will push on and on. 

Thursday, 5 March 2020

My Nightmare pandemic spreads

Here we go again. I’m alone in bed and plaqued. I wake up with a scream, or now I’m trying to cover my mouth as I do. 

Sexual assault and sexual abuse. No one has taken these into account other than health professionals about my diagnoses, why I’m so mentally ill and why Ivact the way I act. 

I can’t tell my partner the dreams I have or my loved ones due to the shame. I desperately crave to be held by my partner and comforted but I don’t. The shame. I’m pathetic. 

All of these nightmares you imagine it’s the end of your life, because really it is of a normal life anyway. 

I sob in silence and think I see people surrounding my bed. People I don’t recognise. They are dark figured. 

I don’t know what to say. I never speak of this topic as I go blank. I shut it down. I blame myself and I block it out. 

My pain bares not scars to see. So I made the scars myself. 

I don’t know when this pain will end. I’m angry. So angry. At them. I feel I will never off forgiveness. Not to myself nor the devils work. I fear for what I carry within me. 

This is why I cling to you when I’m drunk. The fear. 
I trust my love the most. And believe he will never hurt me. 
But he doesn’t trust me. Because I am shameful, because I am a mess because I am disgusting. I am filthy. And this filth won’t wash off. 
To my future child, I will confess my guilt and hope to offer some solace in not following what others are doing. How it can go wrong. Even when it’s someone you trust. I want to hold you and love you. Protect and guide you. But I cannot hold you forever, I cannot always be around to monitor the people near you. For that I am sorry and that is my greatest anguish. I think that officially makes me a parent now?

How you chose not to speak of these topics for the pain it brings. But when you’re down, when you’re broken you somehow believe that’s what you deserved. 

I shed no tears as I type for I blink no more. For the blink brings faces and pain. You think I don’t know what it’s like to be numb? Well I do. This is the real numb. This is easy and this I’ll always be to this topic. 

I wanted to keep writing in my safe space here to help me heal and release because I cannot speak words aloud. But here I have gone emotionally blank as I have trained to do. 

And here I contemplate posting due to fear and shame? 

But does this offer healing? Does this offer helping someone else? Does this make someone think twice? Or does this change the way you look at me as I know it will. 

Don’t pity me. Don’t cry for me. Please pray for me. Pray for silence. 
Or Just ignore it and forget it, like so many abide. And I don’t object to this. I don’t hate this decision. 
Just know the world. 
Know it’s not safe. 
And you can’t protect your children 

Wednesday, 4 March 2020


I aimed to be in bed early. But alas I am again defeated. 
I cannot sleep for this pain in my chest. This anxiety makes me physically sick. I can barely eat. 
The tears sting my eyes and dries on my cheeks. 
No one hears me cry. 
I don’t want this. 
I never wanted my life to be like this! 
I wish I could go back and start again and not fall into mental illness and destroy the rest of my life. 
This guilt is killing me. This shame is potent. I’m not even allowed to be me, I can’t talk to anyone without worrying them and then getting repercussions. 
So I stay silent. This blog is how I articulate. 
What you will read when I’m gone. 

I need help. And I’m getting help. But I’ve fallen so far apart I don’t know if I can be glued back together again. 
I’m basically Humpty Dumpty, except I jumped off the wall. 

And now it’s even later as I wait for medication to sedate me . 
I know I need to work on catastrophizing. That’s huge right now, and I’m glad I can identify that. But money isn’t going to appear from no where, this child isn’t going to provide for itself. 
I have no where else to go. 
I’ve never felt so alone and despised. 

Shouldn’t care what other people think, but it’s a bit hard when it affects your every day life that others knowingly talk behind your back and lie to your face. 
People make sacrifices. I don’t think I’m a sacrifice in any other way than to be abandoned. By all hope. Of all changes and trials . Of all joy and live —— through judgement by thoughts of others.i rest my case. 

I want someone on all sides. I want us all equal and to have the same goal in mind. I want happiness and comfort. Love and friendship. 
Which these days I suppose is a lot to ask. 

I want so many things in life. 
I’ve lost so many things in life, 
I hold my life in my chest, 
My heart on my sleeve, 
My eyes to capture disaster as it begins and imprints on my mind. 

This pain, this life, this mess, 


Its apparent I can't say anything anywhere without concerning or hurting someone somewhere. I an no where. I lost all sensations towards myself and find my anxiety rising above. I don't even know what to say right now, if I even have any feelings about life. I am blank, nothing but a pin cushion, the pain never ends. But who cares right? I should just be happy. No one thinks less for me for losing 2 jobs! NO one thinks less of me for falling pregnant ! NO one judges my every move! NO one has more respect for me! NO one no one no one. The list goes on, like when will this shit end? I am forever haunted by my life and nothing is ever going to change. People are never going to change, because humanity is a disaster. If Trump can't save us who can? I almost wish the coronovirus was worse so all these dipshit people would die. Wow, this is what iv become? wishing others deaths. That actually makes me ashamed and sad. Jesus teaches us to love our enemies, well its not that I have enemies its just that people these days are f*ckn twats. Honestly. This is what Iv'e become. Angry. Bitter. and Judgmental. I give every person the time of day and offer my best support. Whilst I receive judgement, taunts and ridicule. I am badly depressed. And I am TRYING to recover I am TRYING to be a better person, I am TRYING to live my life the way it was intended I am TRYING to help others I am trying to be me. what can you say for yourself?? I've accepted I can't be the change I want to see in the world. I've accepted this is my life and what I've got to dealt with. I've accepted I am in terrible times. I've accepted that life never goes to plan and I am in control of nothing. I've accepted people don't think much of me. I've accepted I am judged for every breath I take. I accept I am both loved and unloved I accept I am different You think I am childish, and that's probably due to my dramatic outlook on life. That's fair, but just remember that children see the world for a better place than it is. children maintain their innocence, children speak the truth without worry, children are honestly learning. Children cry when they are hurt. Children have more nightmares. Children have lowered immune systems. Children are taught what they do. They learn from watching. They learn from hearing. They copy. Maybe I am childish, I only preach what I have learnt, I tell the truth and share my feelings knowing that if I don't they will be suppressed and arise in other disorders. I get sick very often. I try to act oblivious to the constant pain consuming me day in and day out. When I am hurt, I break. And right now? I can't find a shard of myself. My attempt of starting my YouTube channel to help spread awareness of mental health Peace xx