Guilt about speaking my truth

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

Ellie:)

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What if I love myself today?

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.

-Ellie 🙂

The fear of falling behind

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

Ellie

Moving on from you

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

-Ellie 🙂

and so she stopped singing in the shower

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

Ellie

Reminder-you’re going to be OK

it might not feel like it right now, but you will be. Take a deep breath and tell yourself that. Wipe away the tears that are streaming down your cheeks and tell yourself no matter what you’re going to make it. It won’t hurt forever, at least not this bad. You’ve just got to patient with yourself, let yourself grieve and heal from the pain you’re feeling. Being sad is ok, but giving up is not. Give yourself the time you need and listen to your body. Do the things that you love and spend time treating yourself to the things that once made you happy. Wear the things that make you feel comfortable, keep warm and eat. If that is all you do today, know that is enough.

Just something I tell myself when I need to hear it, I hope you’re all doing ok and if you’re not feel free to contact me. I’ll be more than happy to do anything I can to offer advice or support for those that need it, just know that you’re not alone

Moving on without you

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.