I think the worst part of suffering with depression for me, is never knowing how I will wake up. Whether things will look brighter in the morning, or whether my mood will deteriorate. I seem to have such manic dreams that I feel as if I’ve lived for so long sometimes, and I just wake up more tired than I went to bed. 

I have been trying to write a poem, but the words aren’t coming together very well. 

Hopefully, words will come to me soon. I need to remember that a bad day is okay to happen — it doesn’t mean I’m not recovering, just that it’s not straight forward and linear. It’s difficult to see when you’re in the midst of it all. 

Take care, x

Everything will be okay

There’s nothing like breathing a little sigh of relief. 

This doesn’t happen often, normally the worries get a hold and I start panicking over things that haven’t happened yet or the things that could happen or over thinking things that have happened. 

But at the moment those things aren’t mattering. 

Coming back home today has been lovely, nice to see the family, had an awesome steak salad and ran back at home. Now on the sofa with tea watching my new obsession… downton abbey. 

And this doesn’t mean to say things haven’t gone wrong today, just that I’m starting to let them brush over like clouds in the wind. 

It’s making me realise that being on a high dose of happy pills isn’t the worst thing ever. After a bit of a fight about it, surely something that makes my brain function like a normal person can’t be all that bad. I  think I feared people can see it, and that the tablets control me more than me controlling myself. But realising now, I’m still me, but all they do is level me out.  After all, I would say the same thing to other people, and learn the same at uni. 

Just a shame I can’t take my own advice!
P.s landscape photos are becoming a habit, so here’s some of the lovely harbour  ❤️


No place like home 

Tomorrow I go back home for three weeks, and I can’t wait to get cuddles from the parents, the boyfriend, and best of all, the dog ❤️ 

May have to witness another sunrise like this one while I’m back… 

(If you haven’t noticed — im a bit of a sucker for beautiful scenery) 
Expect posts from me shortly about how I’m bored of family already 😉 

Allowing yourself to just be


I wanted to write a little post about self-care. At uni, the environment where I am in and the people I am at uni are all very extroverted and we all go to the gym and run together and its all very social. Usually, this is a very good thing and I love it. But a day like today, where I almost feel a bit in recovery – as in, I’ve had some bad days where things haven’t been getting done or I haven’t looked after myself in the way I should, I just need some time to recoup.

So I had a little mental list of things I would like to get done today:

  • Bath, where I could exfoliate and moisturise and take care of myself after a few days of ignoring the way I look through lack of effort.
  • Revise, this has taken a bit of a backseat to many other things and it’s stressing me out.
  • Tidy and pack ready for going home, I knew I needed to start doing this, I haven’t spent any time in my room because it’s messy. I do not class myself as an always tidy person in particular – but when it’s messy it makes me agitated.
  • Make a really good meal with the salmon in my freezer.
  • Blog.
  • Work out

So off I go, have a cup of tea, relax and then run a bath. And in running a bath I get told my friends are going to the gym, and asked if I am coming.

BOOM EXERCISE GUILT. Everyone else. Going to the gym. Arm day. Am I coming.

It’s on the end of the list for a reason, I didn’t see it as a priority today. But as soon as it’s mentioned I feel like I should, as I know other people are and I’m afraid other people think I should (anxiety sucks balls).

I experience this a lot, and it’s not always from the influence of others, but social media too. For quite some time, I followed a lot (I mean about 50) different fitness and weight loss pages on Instagram. Some of personal trainers, some progress sights, some people losing weight or struggling with weight loss and so on. And everyday every time I looked at them, morning day and night. If I had exercised that day, I’d feel proud of myself, that I’d joined in. Or if I hadn’t, the guilt started and the more I looked at them, the worse it got. Even if I was having a day off, or I feel like I didn’t try hard enough as them, and the most blatantly obvious – I don’t look like them. *sigh*

Now, I’m talking about this in terms of a ‘recovery day’. But it’s even more extreme on a dark day, on a day where I struggle to get motivation to do anything like make food or shower, let alone drag my huge ass out the house… so what do I do? I pretty much spend the whole day on social media and feel all poop.

I have been told many many times, if you feel down, exercise – it helps. It releases endorphins and feel good hormones and it helps as acts as a natural anti-depressant. So its the big go to – feel shit? Work out, even if you don’t want to, you will feel better afterwards. Fight against all the feelings you’re feeling and just get it in.

But you know what else releases endorphins and is a natural anti-depressant? Laughing, having sex, cuddling, eating dark chocolate, vanilla and lavender candles and so many more personal to an individual.

Sometimes being told there is only one way out makes that little tunnel seem narrower, it becomes a chore, a job to be done to be happier. When done in the right mind set, sure exercise can work wonders. And to be honest, I actually quite enjoy running, or going to the gym and doing weights, I don’t want it to be a chore!

So, as difficult as it was, my self care involved unfollowing all fitness accounts from my feed except a few, which I felt were the ‘less pushy’ ones, but that is literally just down to my opinion. Also found a few body-positivity ones that I fell in love with and make me feel better about having a bad day.

The end result of today:

  • Bath, where I could exfoliate and moisturise and take care of myself after a few days of ignoring the way I look through lack of effort.
  • Revise, this has taken a bit of a backseat to many other things and it’s stressing me out.
  • Tidy and pack ready for going home, I knew I needed to start doing this, I haven’t spent any time in my room because it’s messy. I do not class myself as an always tidy person in particular – but when it’s messy it makes me agitated.
  • Make a really good meal with the salmon in my freezer.
  • Blog.
  • Work out


And you know what? more things got added on:

  • Spent time in the sunshine with friends
  • Drank copious amounts of tea
  • Laughed a lot

And today that is exactly what I needed.

Self-care is always going to be purely individual. What works for me, may not for you, and may not work for your friend and so on. Deleting my fitness accounts worked for me because I have a giant guilt complex, and everything else worked for me because that is what relaxes me. And now I am feeling rather peaceful.

Don’t ever feel like you have to do something because it’s what is supposed to make you feel better – if you have to kick and scream to get there, just listen to yourself. If you dread it all day, you’re putting yourself through negative feelings to get you there, and that’s literally the opposite of self care.

I am using this purely on the example of exercise – because that is something that I feel I should do. It works for coursework, tidying and so many other things.

Care for yourself in a way that works. I’m sorry if I went off on one here — trying to explain this has been hard and it’s taken all day of me coming back to it trying to work out what I wanted to say!!

Take care!


On days like this, all my fears come out, and one huge one is the effect of my mindset on other people. The whole day today my head has been telling me I’m ruining my relationships. I didn’t want to talk to my housemates, so I hid away.

And my boyfriend, I have so much fear of telling him too much or pushing him away by not telling him enough. I constantly tell him that I won’t be like this forever, that it will improve when I finish uni and come back home. I am not one of these people who thrive at uni, I mean I’ve learnt a lot and have become a lot more independent, but this is where everything in my head sky rockets. There’s too much stress; money, work, uni work, trying to keep relationships and friendships going… not the walk in the park I thought it would be.

But yeah, the truth is, how do I know that this will subside when I finish uni? What happens if these feelings carry on and are always a little bit there. My fear is that he will give up on me, and after years of dealing with the same shit, saying the same shit to me, calming me down over the same things, me asking how my body looks and whether its changed and whether he still finds me attractive and blah blah blah.

He tells me that this will never happen, and honestly I believe him. This man is the most supportive, loving, giving person I have ever met and will ever meet. I love him with everything I have, and I know he feels the same for me. But I fear I will break him. That I will take advantage of his caring nature, that I become too self-absorbed with the ins and outs of my mind that I won’t talk enough about him. Or he is too afraid of putting anything on me, and so keeps it himself. I’m afraid I will hurt him. 

I know it is my head saying this, and I know that everyday is not the same. But in the darkness it’s hard to see yourself out. I just have to trust him and those around me. And myself – I won’t allow myself to be like this forever.


Went on a little 2.5 mile run today, wanted to do longer but needed to get back for dinner. This lifted my spirits a little, exercise always helps, as much as a fight against it! Also took a picture of the beautiful sunset on the way…



Had a missed call from the CBT people today. – another thing that causes me fear. I’ve been avoiding booking an appointment, it’s telling another person about me and it makes me feel a bit sick. Tomorrow morning I will call them back, I need to. Or I’ve lost the opportunity and I know I will regret it. Time to repair!


It’s one of those hard days, I’ve been waiting for it. I thought writing on one of these days would be easier, that this would help, but actually it’s the opposite.

I think it’s because today I feel nothing. No motivation, no happiness, and above all, no sadness. I forget how painful these days are, how I wish for some emotion to touch me, to make me feel something.

But nothing.

Uni is over for this term and all I’m doing is waiting. Waiting for work today, waiting for it to be over, waiting to go to bed, waiting to go to work and it’s a cycle. Until Saturday, when I go back home.

Sometimes a storm is easier than days of a steady, melancholy wind.


This is my first attempt at any kind of poetry – today was a little roller coaster in terms of my image. I have run and been to the gym for 5 days in a row now, so I thought I would have a rest day. I also have a fitbit, which is amazing, until my calorie counting goes wrong. I have a tendency to overthink about it, and as soon as I go over my calorie target I feel I have failed and get all kinds of negative.

So a day off exercise and counting was needed – but everyone suffering from this type of thing will understand it isn’t that straight forward. I am not diagnosed with any kind of eating disorder, I have never sought help for it. What I do know is that my eating is disordered to an extent, sometimes it stays in the background, but mostly not. It’s always a thought, a fear of gaining weight and not being in proportion, not eating too much, if I do I need to exercise. I must earn it. I need to have control or I can almost see myself gain weight infront of my eyes. 

Unfortunately, today ended in a little binge. I didn’t count calories today so it didn’t count right? I count and I get obsessed, I don’t count and I relax too much. I don’t know how to win this fight, so my aim nowadays is to balance the days until I work it out.

I am of average weight – but carry my weight more on my thighs and I have a big butt (I actually know this for sure, my thighs however are dependent on how I feel that day). I gym a lot most of the time and have recently got into running. But I have been told I don’t see my body for what is it. I do know, that when I look in the mirror, my eyes go straight to my thighs, almost growing bigger the more I look. I don’t know what’s real.


Anyway, here goes, my first attempt at getting out a little of my feelings into poetry:



When did my flaws become all I can see,

this body of mine, my carrier of life,

capable of doing so many things,

being punished for the things it can’t do, or the things it will never be.


When, in the heat of August, through water fights,

and beach visits did I decide I was not worthy of shorts or tops with no sleeves,

that my legs were somehow grotesque,

and I had to hide myself away in fear of sight and mocking of family and friends.


Why does no one mention my abnormal thighs,

or wide arms,

or belly rolls,

or do I just not hear them, or see them stare.


Why can I see everyone else’s faults so beautifully and unique,

telling them that they’re perfect and they wear them so well,

You don’t need to change, it makes you who you are!

when really I’m the biggest hypocrite of all, crying after pulling at folds of skin, wishing I was anyone but me.


There are days, weeks when it is easier, when I count calories and run and I catch my reflection,

and I feel my success, my collarbones and hips protruding proudly,

I feel healthy, normal, balanced, content,

Content with who I am, able to see myself without the gleam of hatred in my eye.


Why does my body look different one day to the next,

It’s in your head my dear, you need to remember, on dark days,

your legs, arms, stomach,

they are normal, healthy, in proportion.


But the following day, a slip,

I slip,

and I slip into the darkness,

You’re not worth anything,

You can’t even stop yourself,

You’ll always be the same,

You’ll never be happy,

Why did you eat that,

Why didn’t you run today.


When will it click,

this problem,

this battle,

is not with my body.

Where I am now 

Apologies for the first ones being so long, I kind of needed to start somewhere and already I feel a little weight has come off! It’s a nice feeling to know that what you have been carrying is out there rather than sitting inside me or those I love.

Don’t get me wrong — I know they always encourage me to talk to them, but I hate that feeling off constantly talking at them and feeling selfish. I would hate to be that person, so this is how I’m helping myself.
I think this will be a mixture of little story tellings (not like the mammoth ones already!!) and reflections, and a lot of the time self help. If I can find comfort in something, I’ll write it on here in hopes that someone else can find it too.
At the moment my anxiety and depression are at a good level, low, but I know I need to think about what I’m doing. This morning I slept in, and on a normal day I would be a little annoyed at myself for this. Cursing myself that I’m lazy and I should have got more done. But today, I can feel it in me that I needed that sleep, that it has helped me and mended me. What helps is last night I didn’t have the fear that I would wake up bad, it hasn’t happened in a few weeks now.
So today I’m looking at positives – my housemate offered me a bacon sandwich, I have a few hours before work I can use to relax and sort myself out, even at work I know I will have a nice time, and this evening I will chill out and might even have a bath.
It’s a good day.

The Spiral

Moving on, I got a full time job and I found a friend in jagerbombs and night clubs, and competing with my club buddy to see how many guys we could kiss on a night out… classy. This stopped when a guy took an interest in me and we got together. I was never too sure how I felt about him (sounds awful I know), but I think I hit my blank stage around here. We were together for 8 long months, which included many arguments about me not enjoying the things he did, and me not wanting to do a whole load. I wasn’t happy, he wasn’t the kind of person I wanted to be with – mega show off, loud, obnoxious, but I was too weak to say bye. Eventually I did, ended up veeery messy with about 8 months worth lot of tears and threats of suicide and self-harm on his part, and all leading up to the lovely confession of him having cheated on me.


I spiralled. The guilt from breaking up, the thoughts of being told I was boring and never wanted to do anything, and the constant words behind my back.


I applied to go back to college in hopes of coming to uni, so for a year I was working full time and doing evening courses. I was knackered, stressed, exhausted from constant harassing from the ex. Cue someone else walking in and making it worse. Clubbing buddy’s family friend – also very up himself but very confident and was able to take my mind off things, of course in a bad way. It got messy. Being a psychologist I can safely label him as a sociopath – lied to me about everything, sectioned me off from family and friends and bloody loved himself. I spent a lot of time with him which destroyed many of my other friendships.


When I realised what was happening I got out of there, but not before things reached a low point. I began making myself sick (my body is a huge issue – another time) and woke up every morning wanting the day to be over. I can remember that feeling of hopelessness well, I just wanted to escape and breathe. I felt suffocated and I had got myself into such a rut I couldn’t get myself out. My parents are functioning alcoholics (again – another time) and I was trying my hardest to help them, before everything accumulating in my first big ol’ anxiety attack in my car outside of college.


I got help. It took me maybe a year before I realised that living in darkness wasn’t normal. That dreading every single thing that may happen that day wasn’t okay. I was prescribed antidepressants and sent on my way. These helped, but not as much as the next thing that walked into my life.


Me and my current boyfriend have been together for 2 years now, and its been two years since I started taking meds. In this time, I moved away to uni, met so many more people, got my dose upped, freaked out, and then just came off of them (bad move – I can do a post about it if wanted because I really don’t advice just coming off them!!).


Last summer was a hard one — my siblings have a different dad to me and he passed away. I can’t go into too much detail but he was always a big figure in my life, he was another family member and I know this sounds weird to a lot of people but it was a massive massive hit. Putting loss into words isn’t easy I have realised – I’m not very good at it. Looking back at what I have written doesn’t touch on the way I feel, but going into too much detail makes me sad and I can’t deal right now.


Anyway, shit summer. Back on tablets after breaking down to my mum about everything being shit, and since then everything has been more stable. My depression is back to a little shadow, but my anxiety creeps up more regularly. I got counselling from my uni recently, but realised that as much as I’m supposed to encourage it, just talking about your problems doesn’t really solve them. I’m applying for CBT so we will see how that goes. I started self harming, not in the ‘serious way’ (doctors words) using a knife or anything sharp, just with my nails. It started with smaller scratches on my hands and arms and stomach, and then more recently during a big meltdown I did it badly on my leg.


I can’t pinpoint when this happens, I don’t think there’s a specific point. I feel that it may be on the crossover between anxiety and depression, when they’re both at equal levels and causing the awful oxymoron they do and I don’t know how to deal with it so I take it out on my body. My fear is my nails not being enough. My medication got upped as a result and now I’m on a very high dose. BUT I feel better. Better than I have in a long while anyway.


So that brings us up to today. I’m tired of keeping what is in my head a secret, and I know I am not alone. I feel like if I can talk freely about it on here, it can finally get out and not swirl around and make me feel sick. So expect a lot of posts about feelings and shit, and if there is anything that anyone wants me to talk about more, drop me a comment or an email. For now I am actually going to go to bed, that’s probably a good thing to do.