Depression and Illness (minor and major)

I had started this year off with mostly positivity, sure I’ve had low days but for the most part they never lasted more than a day. Probably the best start I’d had to a year in the past decade, maybe … Continue reading


The past few days have been hard and horrible and I feel like I’ve taken a million steps backwards and I’m 11 again.

I’m handing in my resignation at work. I know I shouldn’t. I know I should stand up and fight.
But why? What will that really achieve? Everyone will be aware at how emotional and weak I am. Everyone will continue to talk behind my back, only I will have handed them extra amunition. The people who spouted the vile words won’t get into trouble and they will just hate me more. I’ve been here before, this is exactly what happened at school. I’m not going through all that again. These people aren’t adults, if they were they wouldn’t have spoken like this in the first place.

So I’m doing what’s best for me and my piece of mind, I’m removing myself from the situation. It’s gonna be a huge stress financially, but I’m gonna hunt for a job constantly and for now anything is better than nothing, so temp jobs will do.
As for the mental damage, It will take me some time to get over the renewed and heightened anxiety and paranoia that I’m constantly feeling and the depression. But I think the best thing is to get out of the situation before any more damage can be done.

I ended up calling in sick today at the advice of a “friend” she told me not act hastily and just have another day to think things over. But I just know that I can’t stay, even if they never said another word about me again, I would be thinking they were thinking it, because I know they have thought it and said it. Whenever they looked at me, whenever they laughed, I’d be thinking they’re saying it again. If I don’t see them, eventually I’m not gonna be thinking about it daily. Sure I’ll never forget it, It’ll be filed away into my long term memory with every other horrible experience, so that my brain can torment me with it at a future date. But better one new horrible memory than multiple.

I know I’ve probably made the wrong choice and people will think I’m weak and stupid, you’re probably right. I’m angry at myself for being weak, for not sucking it up, for not throwing on my ‘I don’t give a shit’ facade, I’m angry that I’m “letting them win”, but I’m also hurt, humiliated, paranoid, anxious, disgusted, depressed. I already had enough going on and to handle, I didn’t need this as well.

So I’m picking my battles, and this one isn’t it. My battle is my health, physical and mental, my battle is my life and keeping all those balls up in the air that have to be juggled, my battle isn’t girls who still have a high school mentality and think you can judge and belittle someone that you barely know because you work in the same office. The things I can say about them if I was to sink to their level, but I’m better than that, so I’m leaving them to bitch about whatever they want. But not in front of me, because the only other option to crumbling is detroying and I wouldn’t stop.


Bullying is still bullying even if you think the person you’re being vile about doesn’t know.
Bullying is still bullying when you think you’ve been discreet but the person of your attack has 100% proof that it’s directed at them.
Do not sit there and throw shifty looks afraid to be caught out and then laugh wildly outloud thinking you’re getting away with being a nasty cunt.
Stop wasting your time talking about me, stop contradicting yourself, don’t ask other people if you’ve done something wrong, asking if I’m ok.
If you’re gonna say something, you better be bloody ready to own the Shit that pours from your mouth. And the damage it does.

How can people utter words that can cause so much harm when they don’t know a person and they don’t know their struggles.
They have no ideas how far back those words have set me. I feel like I’m 11 years old again, starting high school, being bullied, and losing years of my life.
It’s Monday tomorrow and I don’t want to go into work, and that’s exactly how I used to feel every Sunday before school. Until eventually I would fear going in so much I would be sat on the stairs bawling my eyes out suffering panic attack after panic attack.
It was almost easier back then though, the help needed was different and was easier to get.
but now I have bills to pay, I have a house and car to keep, help is harder to get, my health is poor, my home support system is gone. I cannot crumble the way I did before because there’s too many things I’m responsible for.
I was carrying enough weight I didn’t need to add this, and now I feel like I’m being physically crushed.
I’m depressed, and no matter how angry I get with myself it’s not subsiding, it has firm hold. I feel the anxiety clawing at me, and I’m battling to keep it at bay, shaking the thoughts away, distractions and motivation and yet it’s clawing nearer and nearer.
I feel defeat, and I hate myself, because I said I’d never fall again and yet one conversation, from people who had no clue, has reduced me to this again.
Because their words bolster some of my own insecurities and doubts, because those words made me worthless, ashamed, disgusted, because they made me angry and I had to bottle it up.

I want to hurt myself, I want to give up, I want to curl up in a ball and never move, I want to take my daily pills and just keep taking them. I don’t want to go to work tomorrow, not because I’m lazy, because I can bare facing those vile bullies, because I think I’ll cry and if I don’t cry, I think I’ll hurt them, not with words with physical violence. because that’s how my emotions play out now, I can angry and I lash out or I cry and scream.

Too many years bottling things up inside, too many years feeling trapped and lost and broken, too many years isolated from people to keep myself safe and now look.

I’ve locked myself in my bedroom, I’m comfort eating, I have tears in my eyes and that choking feeling in my throat, but I’m fighting to hold them back because I don’t want to cry over those words.

I don’t want my every thought to be focused on them, and yet it is.

Just help me, someone tell me how I get those words out of my head, those laughs out of my head, how I pick myself up, how I don’t quit I job I really fucking need. How do I continue on as normal? How? Because I’m beat.

I shouldnt be going through this all again at almost thirty. I give up I give up I give up…


I don’t know how I can hate being here so much and want to be gone and yet want to live and experience everything wonderful. It’s like there are two sides to me and I’m being ripped part.

I just need to get away from myself, in the problem, Times like this I really wish I’d never been born. I wish I had someone to turn to help me through this. Instead I’m sat in an empty room thinking of awful things to do to myself, but if I don’t move I can’t do anything stupid, so I just have to not move.

Foreboding sense of dread

I’ve had a complete crash. Last night a few little things just tipped me over the edge, and now my head is all panic and bad thoughts constantly. I want to break down and cry, but I think if I do, they’ll be no coming back from it.

And there’s absolutely no one to turn too, I can’t turn to my Dad, I can’t burden him with this, I can’t turn to my best friend, cos she can’t handle it, I have to be strong for her, and I can’t turn to my other friend cos she doesn’t understand, it’s just pull yourself together and get on with it.
And everyone else is non existent, sometimes I wonder why I’m so desperate to stay here if I’m already so alone?

Continue reading

Life is too short…

In life things will happen that effect you on some level, and sometimes things effect you that you would never have expected and they can effect you on a much deeper level than you could ever have expected.

Today was one of those days. Hearing about someone’s passing can come as a shock, whether you knew them well, knew them briefly or sometimes not even at all, often in the case of celebrity, very few people will have had the chance to meet them and so it can be confusing when you are rocked by their passing.

But you invite these people into your lives, whether it be through connecting with the characters they play or the music they create, you end up making a bond, and just because you never met them, doesn’t mean that your feelings can be diminished. This isn’t my point though, so moving on.

When people die young I feel a huge sense of sadness at the time they’ve lost, the moments they’ve been robbed of, of the memories they’re loved ones who survive them haven’t the chance to experience. Weddings, Birthdays, Children, Dreams.

I feel a huge sense of sadness at any loss, I’ve suffered loss, so I find it so easy to put myself in the place of those who are left to grieve. The ones who have to come to terms with their loved one no longer being here. Trying to find a way to live life again, and not be consumed by the pain and the black hole left inside from the loss.

I remember the initial shock and realisation, my worst fear was transpiring.
I remember feeling guilt, was there something I could’ve done? should’ve done?

I remember being in denial, she wasn’t gone, this couldn’t be happening.
I remember feeling anger, at the doctors who failed her, at the world, at anyone who dared tell me they understood and time was a great healer.
I remember the numbness, the exhaustion from crying, the sleepless nights, the waking up crying, the dreams she constantly appeared in.

It’s something that we all go through at some point in our lives, we just all hope that we’ll be much older when we do, because we find it such a comfort to say that someone had lived a full and accomplished life.
Unfortunately life doesn’t work like this, and more often than not we are faced with the shock of losing some suddenly and too young.

Sometimes its because of a disease, and we are left bewildered at life,

Sometimes there is no other reason than the frailty of the human body,

Sometimes its an awful accident, and Sometimes it is our own self destruction.
We are always reminded of how short life is, and how powerless we are to the inevitability of death.

When someones passing is due to their own self destruction, I can never seem to wrap my thoughts around how?
How does someone reach such a dark place in their life that they either slowly kill themselves or take their own life?

I’ve suffered depression and anxiety for more than a decade of my life. And even though there have been times when I’ve wish I was no longer here, ultimately I have always found something that kept me fighting. My Mum (Rest her soul), My Dad, My family, My friends.
Maybe my loss wouldn’t effect them, Maybe my Dad would cope just fine without me, but if there’s even a 1% chance that I would cause them any heartache or discomfort, I couldn’t willingly destroy my own life. Because I couldn’t destroy them, I love them far too much. So if I have to suffer on in life to ensure they’re safe and happy, that’s the burden I have to carry.

So maybe I understand those who have no one, if I had no one, I wouldn’t be here, there would be no reason to fight. But how do those that do have loved ones destroy themselves, and ultimately their loved ones?

How do they get so low? How does the darkness consume them so much that all they can think about is the relief of a substance or a way out?
How does darkness overcome love?!

They may want with all their heart to be strong and find their way to the light for the person they love, who loves them in return, and yet they can’t, because the darkness is stronger.

What is this darkness that consumes and destroys, where does it come from, and if Love can’t beat it, can anything?!

Is there something more we can/should do for people who find themselves so alone and hopeless?

I can’t help but look at people, complete strangers in the street, and wonder what are they thinking, are they happy? are they struggling?

I’ve always hated that I’m a compassionate person, because it means I get attached easily and I want to help, I want to make a difference in someone’s life. But in doing so, you open yourself up to emotions and getting hurt.

How many times have we walked past someone who needed help.
Who just needed someone to show them compassion, or someone who was so lost in the world, that they were not long for it?
I know that it’s different for everyone, every lost person has a different story, and we’ll never know what they feel inside.

I guess all the love in the world can’t erase the fact that no matter how much we fight it, no matter how many people surround us, we are all alone, in our heads and our emotions.
Maybe that’s the darkness…