Recently, I’ve found myself taking a step back from people. I told a guy that I’d been speaking to that I no longer wished to do so. I made it clear all I wanted was a friend from the start of our conversations. However, as time passed he start to cross boundaries which made me feel uncomfortable. I made it clear to him once again we would only ever be friends and that I think it would be best if we didn’t speak anymore. Regardless of this he persisted, telling me private stories about his life and at any chance commenting on my posts. Pretending he was doing so to check if I was doing o.k or not, but in reality it would just be a way for him to start a conversation with me again. He would use things such as saying he would end his life if we stop talking to guilt me to speaking to him. I made it clear to him that his obsessive behaviour was starting to frighten me and I begged and pleaded him to leave me alone. I started to feel unsafe, constantly looking over my shoulder and being afraid he would just appear there. This spanned on for months, I constantly fought with myself mentally worrying about him, but also worrying about myself because of him. Speaking to him would exhaust me, it would be like constantly listening to hours of someone talk about their life and it would always be a very one sided conversation. I felt as though he needed help and before the crossing of boundaries I didn’t mind speaking to him.
Something he said about me resides in my brain, even though this is only very recent. Once I told him to leave me alone and that I would ignore him from here on. He lashed out on me, telling me I was nothing but a pretty face but my personality was so awful that no one would ever fall in love with me. My ex boyfriend also said the same thing to me and I told this guy this previously, so he used it against me. He could see that I no longer wanted to be weighed down with him emotionally draining me, so he resorted to trying to manipulate me. With threats of suicide? I mean the only reason I replied to him was because I feared he would end his life. He then spoke about it like it was a joke and laughed at how easily I was manipulated. I know he has a family who support and love him, alongside friends who adore him. But I know I wouldn’t have been able to shake the feeling of guilt if something happened to him and he had reached out to me for help. When I started to ignore him he pretty much made fake accounts to comment stuff on my posts. This included telling me that I should die a painful death and don’t deserve to live and should end my own life. He said he would never leave me alone and this was all for my benefit. Then he would go onto claim he was so heartbroken and in love with me and he didn’t even say anything wrong to me. Telling me I was being unreasonable and paranoid for no reason. He admitted stalking my posts and reading every single comment, watching out for them constantly. He also offered me the chance to be left alone SOMETIMES, if I spoke to him for a few hours a day, everyday. Or he would have to start stalking me again..
At this point, I’m not sure if he’s actually got something wrong with him mentally or if he’s just not a nice person. But this whole process taught me something about myself, I blame myself for everything. I felt guilty for leaving his life despite knowing I’d given him a chance to stop making me feel uncomfortable and crossing boundaries. That should have been enough. What I wanted and what was in my best interest should have been my number one priority. But I couldn’t help but blame myself for the situation and the way it unfolded. A part of me felt like this was what I deserved off him or anyone else in my life. Taking charge of your own life and cutting out people who cause emotional harm to you isn’t.
Thank you for reading,
This week has been hectic, but it started off with my attending an appointment with a clinical psychiatrist. When talking to her I found myself letting go of a lot of information that I would have once held back when speaking to a mental health professional. To my surprise she was more than willing to listen, making feel like more of a person than a patient. Whilst speaking to her I mentioned my Mother and Father. I spoke about all the times that they had been verbally abusive and I had witnessed them viciously arguing for years as a child. I spoke about how my mother would sob and cry about the fact that I was born and how my birth had ruined everything. As a young child (probably around 6 ), I was unsure of how to react when these things happened. Admitting that my childhood has shaped how I am as a person was hard. I spoke the words and as I watched the psychiatrist writing on her paper pad, I instantly regretted it. I was sure to mention I love my parents and I know they’ve done a lot for me. I’m sure she also wrote all of those things. But seeing the shock on her face when I mentioned what my parents were like, made me take a step back and realise that I did the right thing in mentioning it. Despite this, I can’t shake the feeling of guilt that I feel for speaking about my parents in such a way. All of the things I spoke about were factual, I didn’t make anything up or say how I felt about what they did, just said what happened. I know it was all true, but saying the words out loud was painful for me. I felt as though I had betrayed my parents, who despite everything I love dearly. All week I’ve been trying to shake this feeling, but can’t seem to stop feeling awful . Listening to the sound of my own voice speaking in such a normal way was also shocking to me. I just spoke about it as though it was completely normal, which I suppose it is for me. If I had a child come into my care I would have been concerned for their well-being had they mentioned the things I did. I know my parents aren’t going to get into trouble because I’m an adult so there’s no safeguarding concern. So I don’t know why I can’t shake the feeling of guilt. I guess I’ve just got to keep reminding myself that I did what was best for my mental health care and no matter what I still love them.
Thank you for reading
I’ve spent so many years telling myself “I’ll be happy when……”. A big thing I would always tell myself is that once I’d lost weight I’d love myself so much more and be filled with happiness. So I did it, I lost weight and got to my ideal weight. I went to the gym every day for an hour, sometimes twice a day. Lifted heavy weights, did squats and got the body I’d always dreamt of. But I would still look in the mirror and not love myself. For me this was the worst part, everything I’d dreamt of as an overweight teenager I now had. It’s funny because everyday I would go to the gym, but if I weighed 0.1lb more than I did the day before I would feel disgusted with myself looking in the mirror and convince myself that people were looking at me because I was so fat and disgusting. I’ve spent years of my life trapped in a cycle of hating myself and not liking who was, always telling myself if I was just perfect I would be able to love myself finally.
So today I thought, what if I loved myself today? What if instead of feeling disgusted at myself I thanked my body for all the years it’s spent functioning, despite me never loving or appreciating it the way I should have. Telling yourself you’ll love yourself when something has changed in your life will mean the love you have for yourself is conditional. Often I’ve dreamt of someone meeting and loving me in an unconditional way, but how can I ever have the love I deserve if I don’t love myself? And if someone does love me unconditionally, when I don’t love myself in the same way my self-worth will always be determined by how others treat me. It makes me sad to think of all the times I’ve got something good and heard the voice in my brain tell me I don’t deserve anything good. Loving yourself doesn’t mean you think you’re better than anyone or that you’re shallow. It just means telling yourself, that you are worthy and beautiful and deserve to be happy. Life is about being grateful and I am grateful for the body that I have been gifted with. It’s taken me so long to realise that no matter if I am 240lbs or 120 lbs, my body is doing an amazing job. Protecting and loving me, healing me when I bleed and growing, even when I haven’t looked after it. I’ve struggled with self-love for so long, but I really feel as though I am turning a page. It doesn’t meant I’ll love myself completely when I wake up tomorrow. But day by day, I will be working towards it. Healing your soul and mind is often a long process and it’s easy to lose yourself at times. All I can say is be patient with yourself and give yourself the love and advice you would give your dearest friend. Often we can be so unkind to ourselves and not notice.
I hope who ever is reading this post is in good health. If thing aren’t going great at the moment remember, even your worst days can only last 24 hours. Feel free to e-mail/contact me if you need someone to talk to and thanks for reading.
I know he’s gone and he’s not coming back. But I can’t help but feel as though we are still welded together so deeply that I’m not sure if I’m ever going to be able to let him go. We both had something in common, abuse. Surviving that together gave us a connection that I will never share with anyone. I can’t help but feel like all the cheating and toxic behaviour between us was a result of the abuse we both endured. I can’t stop worrying about him. It’s not that I’m worried about him being with someone else, it’s worrying if he’s OK. I know he probably is but I can’t shake the thought that something awful is happening to him and I won’t know until it’s too late. I’m scared one day I’ll read the news and find out he took his own life. He wasn’t the kind of guy that would speak openly about his feelings. So I guess I’m hoping he’s found someone to speak about his feelings to. I pray for him every night and I think a big part of my worries is my anxiety. Throughout our relationship I would often not hear from him for long periods, several times this would be due to his mother abusing him and taking away his phone. I guess my mind is holding onto that thought. It was a big reason I never left him no matter how much he hurt me, I would always fear for his safety. I only gathered the courage to leave him when he moved 100’s of miles away from home and his mother because I knew he’d finally be safe.
Regardless of how much he hurt me, I would never want any harm to come to him. I understand that I’ve spoken about him on my blog before and honestly all these posts make him sound like 3 different people. I guess he was so many different things, so beautiful yet broken. Of course, it doesn’t mean it excused what he did when cheated but our relationship was more than that of lovers. We were survivors together, best friends and a home to each other. I hope he’s found another home and it makes him feel so much happier than I ever could. I have things to work on within myself, but I guess I’m starting to realise when hurt me it wasn’t because he didn’t love me. It doesn’t take away from our relationship or what we had. Also, I can’t blame him for wanting to move on from. Our memories were made from the darkest moments of our life. To me, this explains why I’m having such a hard time letting go. I spent years looking after him, I never once worried about myself and life my mind would constantly be worrying about him, now I have all of this spare time it’s time to focus on the emotions I’ve deeply neglected within myself and make my dreams come true.
I would really appreciate some advice/tips on how to get the anxiety of worrying about him out of my mind. Thank you for reading
Singing in the shower has always been one of my favourite parts of the day. If I could, I’d spend my whole day singing along to cheesy songs and dancing about in my pyjamas. But last week I just stood in the shower, the music played but my lips didn’t even attempt to move. I knew I hadn’t been feeling the best, but then I realised things were about to get bad again.
When I say bad I mean my depression was getting worse. For me, depression is more than sadness. It’s smiling with your lips, but never with your eyes. It’s the darkness in the sky at night, when you realise how truly alone you are. It’s watching days pass, but nothing gets better or changes. It’s dragging your feet out of bed and feeling like there is not a drop of life in you or your body. It’s trying to convince yourself that there is a purpose and that things are going to get better, but not believing a single word of it. It’s your friends not knowing where you are for weeks, sometimes months at a time. But it happens so often that people have stopped looking or wondering about you. It’s looking at the hollow shell of the human you’ve become in disgust, realising no one could ever hate you more than you hate yourself. It’s fantasising about ending it all, thinking of the perfect way to do it. It’s writing letters to your family and friend, in case you actually find the courage to.
So I’ve come to realise perhaps I’m not as o.k as I convince myself I am. When my psychiatrist asks if I’m planning to end my life, I smile at her and reassure her that the idea hasn’t entered my brain. A part of me hopes she’ll see through my smile and tell me she know’s it’s a lie. But in reality I’m just another name and she’s so overworked that I don’t think the thought even enters her brain. Or is that I’m just so convincing? My whole family are convinced, heck so are my friends. They think I’m some thrill seeker who disappears on adventures, in reality I just lock myself up in my house and then reappear with perfectly applied makeup and an even faker smile. I’m becoming convinced people ask you if you’re o.k, but don’t really want to know if you’re not.
So then I ask myself, do I drop the act or keep pretending. How long can I keep this up and how long can I keep it together? I mean honestly, the reason I don’t ask for help is the fact that I’m scared. If I open up to someone and they don’t care anyway I think that would push me over the edge. Sounds stupid, but my friends and family are my only hope in my mind. A bit, like a secret weapon which I’ll only ever use out of sheer desperation.
But for now, goodbye until my next post. Thank you for reading, I enjoy writing out my feelings. It helps me put things into context better, I know I’m going to be o.k. It’s just sometimes I feel like I’m trying to climb a plastic rope that is covered in oil.
Until next time
Being an Asian female, I’m constant bombarded with questions about when I’m going to get married. Honestly I don’t think I ever will. As much as I hate myself feeling like this, I feel as though I would be betraying you for even entertaining the thought. It’s stupid because you cheated on me so many times when you had me. I still miss you, all the time. Not that I would ever admit it to you. When an Asian aunt mentions how their son and me would make a great match I can just feel my face freeze and I immediately try not to cry. It’s stupid because that’s all I seem to do. It’s like I couldn’t live with you, but living with out you is proving equally impossible. You were my first love, my only love. I don’t think I can give my heart away to anyone else. No one even knows I’m sad, I’ve become too good at faking a smile for anyone to ever question it. I feel like I’m mourning your death, but I’m the one it’s killing. The thought of moving on without you is killing me, but I guess it’s what I have to do. I pray that I find the strength to move on or at least to stop being such a damn mess. Until then, my smudged mascara can become a smoky eye instead.
Living at home as a child was always the wildest roller-coaster, the ups and downs always left me confused. How could it be that my parents would argue and scream at the top of their lungs and then 10 minutes later be laughing with each other as though nothing had ever happened. I completely understand that a lot of couples argue, but the way my parents argued made me think the world was ending. They would scream at the top of their lungs, hurling abuse at each one another and my mother would be hysterically sobbing. Seeing them interact with each other now, I can sense the same toxic patterns in them. It puzzles me that they’ve stayed together for long and not actually killed each other.
Don’t get me wrong I adore my mum and dad and appreciate all they’ve done for me, but their relationship is far from ideal. Some of my siblings act in a very similar way to my parents. My older sister would often physically assault me as a child and then pretend nothing had happened. If anything, she would then get angry at me for bleeding on the floor. She would then continue to run around and act as though she had done nothing, without an ounce of guilt. This would all be whilst I cried in pain. Unfortunately, she’s still stuck in the same mental state and still refuses to apologise to people when she verbally abuses them and expects things to go back to normal automatically. I’ve pondered on these thoughts for the longest time, am I the issue? Is it normal for people to treat each other like this and then suddenly act normal with no apology or remorse? Should I have just let my sister physically assault me and got over it? I refuse to believe that this is an actual ‘normal’ thing to happen.
I would love to hear some opinions, is this an actual thing that happens in healthy families? Am I being over dramatic or over sensitive?
Thank you for reading!
A love like ours is the kind of love people write stories about, but not the romantic kind that have a happy ending. It’s the kind of love that has you crying and screaming into your pillow. I’m still not sure if I wanted the pillow to suffocate my screams or me.
Before we met I was so used to not feeling anything, so feeling something with you was the first time I had felt alive in years. We were only 16, I can’t really blame you for not knowing how fragile I was. I thought you were so much more than I deserved, I guess that is telling of how much I thought of myself. You would leave me when times got tough and beg for you to return. This carried on for nearly 7 years, I honestly lost count of the times you left or cheated on me after it passed 10. I didn’t blame you for doing it, a part of me still doesn’t. We were the epitome of toxic. You would hurt me and leave, convincing me that I could make you stay if I did the things you wanted me to. You would say “a man has his needs” and remind me that you had so many other girls waiting to give you what I supposedly couldn’t. I despise myself for not realising sooner that I deserved so much than your second choice, heck I wasn’t even your second choice more of a last resort.
For some reason I still can’t seem to blame you completely. I think it’s because I see you for what you are now, a scared little boy. Like me, you were broken. Love wasn’t something you’d ever felt and the amount I had to give you frightened you. You weren’t willing to let me touch your heart so you’d push me away and break me so I would love you less. You came back into life my begging for another chance after I wrote a post about you, I’m sure it was the universe trying to teach me you don’t belong in my future. You sounded so sad for what you had done and how you had treated me. I found that strange, you never felt bad when you would scream abuse at me and call me fat and I would break down into tears begging for you to stop. How about the time you picked up a call from another girl whilst I sat in your car and listened to you tell her the same stupid lies I had fallen for over and over. You said you wanted another chance, I guess 7 years of them weren’t enough? I hate to hear you be sad, but honestly your feelings are no longer my responsibility like I had felt they were for so long. You’re no longer a little boy. You tell me you’re a man, so why is it after talking to me for a matter of 10 minutes you needed to brag about the girls who apparently pursue you?. HA. More fool me for believing you’d ever change. I hate myself for feeling sad and still missing you sometimes. I never trusted or had a relationship before you so I guess that’s why. Despite missing you I know I will never go back there. You’d call me mental and state that my mental illness caused me to be a paranoid freak because I’d accuse you of cheating on me. Then months later admit it and tell I was lucky you were so honest with me. I guess I felt like you were the only guy who would ever love me, but now I realise you never did love me. To me you are the finest drug an addict can ever get their hands on, but the highs could never make up for the crushing lows. Even though I lost you, I think I could finally be on the verge of finding myself
You always said you loved me more, but I’m starting to question if you ever loved me at all. I would be lying if I said I didn’t miss you, because it’s all I seem to do. My brain is swarmed with thoughts of you. Even in my dreams you haunt me. I wish I could just run back into your arms, I wish I could feel safe again. I don’t blame you for giving up on me, I gave up on myself long before you ever did.
Losing you was like losing myself, we were together for long that you became a part of me. Now you’re gone it gets harder to convince myself to get out of bed every day. The voices in my head have become so loud that I’m drowning. I know things will get better, but I’m not sure I want them to. Without you, I don’t see the point. It’s been so long since you’ve been gone. I’ve stopped hoping you’ll be back, but my stupid heart won’t drop it. I can’t help but hope every text I get is from you, my heart sinks with the stupid but obvious realisation that it isn’t. I can’t say that you broke my heart, it was always broken. But I can say I hate you, for breaking down the walls I built to protect myself. Then breaking me. As much as I love and miss you I can’t convince myself to forgive you. Knowing that I gave you my all and that wasn’t enough for you kills me, but so does being away from you. Knowing that we’ll never have the forever we dreamt of makes me wonder if I’ll ever believe in anyone again. There have been other guys I couldn’t let them close enough to see the real me. I could never love them the way I loved you, so I let them go.
I hope you’ve found someone who gives you everything I didn’t. I hope she makes you feel the way you made me feel. I hope all your dreams are coming true and your life is filled with the things we always spoke about. I hope I never bump into you or see you again. If I did, I’m not sure I could do it with a smile on my face without tears streaming down my cheeks. I’d be lying if I said I don’t imagine you coming back to me and saving me like my knight in shining armour that you always were. But I will say this, I need to be my own hero and save myself. Otherwise all I will ever know is drowning and I can’t depend on you or anyone else to save me.
I am exhausted. Two weeks of actually attending university has done this to me. I don’t feel as though I’m learning anything from the lectures, I sit there trying not to fall asleep. Being spoken at for 3 hours isn’t my idea of an enjoyable morning. Despite this, I genuinely feel as though if I learnt something new in every lecture it would convince me to attend more. But the fact that I’ve missed all my lectures and feel as though I’ve not missed a single thing tells me perhaps university really isn’t for me.
I’ve become a procrastinating queen, my educational motivation has always been relatively high but I can’t seem to convince myself to complete an essay which does not entice or engage my brain at the slightest. I can’t help but feel as though my lecturers see me and their eyes light up with $$$ signs. . Ok well that’s a bit of an exaggeration, my lecturers are pretty nice people but I can’t seem to sit through their repetitive and recycled presentations without feeling as though I’m being scammed for my money. Admittedly I’m not paying for it currently, but I will be once I graduate. I often find myself in shock when I realise I’m pretty much paying £9000 a year for information I could have probably got off of the internet for free. There is nothing to be learnt here so why am I being charged so much money for something so not worth it? University and the idea of it exhausts me mentally, it’s nothing but a box ticking exercise. Pretty much all of education is, but I had hoped for something more interesting and engaging at higher education. Hats off to anyone who actually committed to and completed any higher education qualification because right now, I can’t see that happening for me.
if you’ve experienced something similar I would really appreciate some wisdom and advice. I’m so torn between dropping out because I’m half way through the degree and have already wasted so much money so I feel as though I should have something to show for it. However, I’m exhausted and seriously bored of university and the whole situation surrounding it.
Thank you for reading 🙂
We are always told to ‘be yourself’. But who do you be when you don’t actually know who you are? Life has a funny way of reminding you of your lack of identity. Why is it that most days I can’t think of a single activity I genuinely enjoy? The things that used to make me smile, no longer do. I used to have a spring in my step, now I focus on not falling as I walk. When did I go from a bright vivavious girl to someone who struggles to get out of bed after 12 hours of sleep? it’s a shocking realisation, admittedly embarrassing. I can’t help but feel as though my entire existence is a combination of letting everyone down. Most days, a fake smile is too much to ask of me. Working on overcoming all of these issues is something I hope I can successfully achieve through writing. I know my writing isn’t the best but if I can be honest with myself on here, I figure it could help me discover who I really am. I guess this blog is a search for me, here’s to hoping there’s something left to find.
I’ve always had this way of managing my feelings and events in ways that lead to long term damage to my emotional health. Accepting my flaws, however painful is something that I’ve realised I need to do. In order to become a better and happier person for myself and those I engage with I’ve started to look at patterns in my life. When I say this I mean I have looked at things that went wrong or situations that ended badly. Then, I ask myself how my behaviour and actions impacted the situation in a negative way. Reflecting on situations has been so insightful, it has allowed me to make small changes to my behaviour when met with similar situations. I understand that not all situations can be changed, but if I can reduce the damage they cause to me emotionally and stop escalation I know I’m winning. I’m hoping long term this will benefit my mental health and also the amount of positive energy inside me which will then go onto the amazing children I interact with daily. I hope to keep you all updated on my progress.
Thanks for reading 🙂
I often ask myself why I’m not achieving the things that my friends are, most of them are now graduates and have successful careers. But recently I’ve come to accept that everything has its own time. Social media, is never a true picture of how life is going for people you used to go to school with, it’s a snapshot of the best parts of their lives.
It’s easy to get caught up in feeling like your life is going nowhere, I have been trapped in thoughts like these for years. However, life has it’s own plans for everyone. If you know you are doing your absolute best and perhaps things aren’t going your way, know that there is nothing more you can do. Greatness and success have no time limits, some will achieve early in life others will get there later. It will not take away from what you achieve, nor will your age make what you want impossible to achieve.
It’s always ok to change your mind and start again. Your life is exactly that, yours. You can create a life that you are proud of, filled with happiness and results of your hard-work. I understand that this will be harder for some people than others, but if you find something you love doing, never let fear control or hold you back. I am a true believer that if you find something you love doing your passion and hard-work will lead to success and speak for itself. For me? It’s helping children, my life has been filled with amazing teachers who shaped the way I turned out. Their support meant more to me than they will ever know. Knowing I can help and inspire children in the same way is something that has always kept me going. Making a positive change to the world is all I want. Recently, I’m starting to feel as though it is possible.
Despite how many times I want to give up, I know I need to keep going and push myself through the tough times to achieve my dreams. I am more than my mental illness or physical disabilities. There is more to me than the way I look and the colour of my skin. It is what I have to offer the world, the passion and drive that fills and inspires me to make a change.
Thank you all for reading