Sometimes i wonder what’s wrong with me, what’s so broken in me that normal things seem difficult, or un-natural. Things that I should probably not admit to, but shall. Things like family. I don’t really feel a sense of family at all. I never really have. I don’t walk around like omg i love my family they’re the best. We’re not close. Don’t get me wrong, I think i love them. I feel more positively about them than other people, so i guess that’s the same. But i have absolutely no urge or desire to spend time with them, to talk to them, to do anything. Which makes me sound like a massive bitch. But i guess the important bit is that i do make an effort. The problem is i have crippling mental health issues. So sometimes making an effort is just thinking about messaging them or going to see them, and then getting too tired. Or trying to be polite when i say no to gatherings. But sometimes, the mental health stuff feels more like an excuse. Because really, i don’t want to go out or do anything or partake in small talk. It’s not personal to my family. I’m the same with everyone. But for some reason society says it’s alright for family to call you out on it. I mean, there’s the whole fact that i stick out like a sore thumb too. I’m not talking about the literal elephant in the room. I’m talking about personality. I just don’t gel with either side of my family. The conversation doesn’t flow. We don’t really have fun spending time together. I don’t really belong anywhere. So what the fuck is wrong with me? They deserve so much better.

Sometimes i wonder what’s wrong with me when it comes to self motivation. Why can i just not get off the sofa? Why do i not really care what happens to me? The list goes on.

Sometimes i think “fuck it all” and i have a bath or go to bed or i just sit and cry for hours on end.

Sometimes i partake in a little retail therapy and then feel so guilty about it i never allow myself to use the stuff i buy. Either that or i never get round to using it because i’m sick all the time.

Sometimes i think that i’d be better off dead. Actually, it’s all the time. It used to be only when things were bad. But even when things don’t seem so dark, i still can’t shake the feeling that I just need to die.

Sometimes I write poems and then i tear them up or i delete them all because they are never ever good enough. It’s all i really enjoy doing. And i’m shite at it.

Sometimes it just feels like i’m so broken, there’s no fixing me.



I feel like it’s maybe time and i’m maybe in a place to reflect back on the punch in the balls year they call 2016.

I, like so many others, had a spectacularly shit year and am so thankful that 2017 has swooped in to hopefully end the stream of crap 2016 had to throw at me.

So, let’s have a little look at a few things that happened in 2016. They probably won’t be in order.

  • The worst 2 months of the 6 month long breakdown i had. I don’t even remember this still and it’s been almost a year since it ended.
  • Tried and failed to complete a Creative Writing Diploma online.
  • Skin Cancer Scare
  • Bowel Cancer Scare
  • Tonsil Cancer Scare
  • Tonsillectomy delayed, then cancelled twice, then i finally had it and got an infection which turned into Septicaemia and Meningitis and i nearly died.
  • Failed to get a single job (minus that one dodgey cleaning job that makes me feel sick to even think about)
  • Worsening of general day-to-day symptoms
  • Losing use of my hands very slowly
  • Mental health team let me down and my illnesses got much worse
  • Almost split up with my husband because of our whole general situation being a giant ball of shit
  • Landlord turned into massive idiot and is threatening to kick us out of the first home we love, despite it’s many many issues
  • Terrifying teeth issues neither the doctor or the dentist will touch and omg the pain
  • Was too sick to really enjoy anything that we had planned this year
  • Failed to¬†achieve something i’ve been trying to achieve since May 2014.
  • Gastro specialist suggests the only way to stop my ongoing nausea is a gastric bypass.
  • Failed to complete any crochet project, either at all, or how i wanted to.
  • Accidentally spilled lavender somewhere in the kitchen in September, and everything still tastes of lavender now.
  • Hopsital lost all 16 biopsies that they took from me.
  • Hospital later lost 7 vials of my blood.
  • Developed severe insomnia and am now actually terrified to bed
  • Also developed a fear of brushing my teeth
  • Rising damp which is ruining everything and making the house smell but the landlord insists we caused and therefore won’t fix
  • Got beautiful new bike, only to find out it was built badly and broke. Cannot afford new bike.
  • Lost contact with almost all my friends, who all now think i’m a massive twat but actually i’m just sick as shit and therefore can’t do anything fun
  • Got copies of medical records and found out i had a case to sue my previous GP, but no energy to do it
  • Spent almost every day feeling to sick to get off the sofa
  • Got complained at by various family members for being a waste of space
  • Missed out on the boxing day sale at lush because i was in hospital. I think this one hurts the most haha


So, this new year better be a bit more kind, please.

I’m off for a nap.


It’s Another New Year

I don’t know where this year has gone at all. But here I am on another New Year’s Eve, wondering where the fuck I went wrong this year.

This post will be shorter than the usual, or at least shorter than i had planned. I got home from the hospital yesterday. I’ve been in for a few days because of Meningitis and Septicaemia. I was really poorly and as so many people keep pointing out, I nearly died. I’m focussing on the fact I didn’t though, which they find weird. So anyway yeah i’m sick and really really tired so i won’t be writing about all the things i want to write about.

I’m actually making a few resolutions this year. I cannot share them with you though. Usually i hate the idea of resolutions, you can make yourself better any time of the year if you really want to. Plus 3 days in you’re back in the fridge in your jimjams having totally forgotten about all the promises to be the “new me” that you’d made yourself.

But i figure why not use it as an excuse to start all the things i was supposed to start after my operation. It got cancelled and ended up being the 2nd December, then i didn’t get to even recover properly before my hospital stay so I didn’t get to crack on and make the changes i want to.

Anyway, back to 2016.

In so many ways you were a giant kick in the teeth of a year. You brought me nothing but pain and sadness. And darkness. It has been a very very dark time. Thinking back, it is a struggle to think of anything positive that’s happened.

I got a diagnosis of POTS, but then nothing happened really.

I guess the odd thing good happened in the sea of shit.

But all i really remember about this year is laying in bed night after night after night, crying my eyes out and asking Zachary what we did wrong to deserve such horrible luck. It’s been a horrible string of bad things happening to us.

I know everyone has a horrible time, everyone has their own shit going on. But nothing ever feels worse than the exact shit that you are experiencing yourself. Everyone is the same.

Ooh it’s just gone midnight. New Year!

Yeah, not feeling it.

2016, you were a real bitch.

2017, you better be a bit fucking better.


Ches out.

Life is currently nothing more than circles of sleeping and then reminding myself that everyone has pain. Everyone is feeling the worst they can feel, it doesn’t matter whoever thinks they have it worst. The answer is that everyone does.


Struggling recently with feeling like I belong somewhere. Neither side of my family has ever been a great fit for me. Don’t get me wrong, I love them all to bits. More so now that i’m older and wiser. But I just don’t fit in with any of them. Feeling pretty lonely and shit.


Zachary’s gone on a Carer’s Respite. The government are paying for him to go away for a night. I’m pretty insulted by it but trying not to let it show too much. Given that he was only really my carer when it was really bad last year, I kind of feel like it’s a bit cheeky but that’s not my decision to make. Zachary needed a break from work though. And all we ever really talk about is vomit and what food he can force feed me with that day. When he left this morning he said “i’m looking forward to a break from it all” and i held back the tears. Fuck yeah. Taking that as a win. No wife like to hear their husband say they need a break from them. I know our situation is different, and complicated. It’s situational. But honestly I think that makes it harder.

I’m glad he’s been looking forward to his little trip away. It’s only one night. But i’m a bit hurt because for months he’s been telling me he has zero interest in anything, and that he doesn’t enjoy or look forward to anything either. So, it kinda felt like a dig at me. He’s looking forward to being on his own. I do understand though. Honest. I’m just very sensitive and he’s getting more and more withdrawn because of his depression and it’s difficult not to take it personally. He does the same. His anxiety is so bad he thinks everything i say to him is me having a dig at him.

Mental health issues suck.

He’s switching to new meds soon because these ones made him have bad anxiety and rage attacks. Not fun. So he’ll start new ones next week and hopefully they will make him feel better. I feel so guilty that my situation has affected him so badly. But all i can do is try to be strong for him.

I’m still waiting for my operation. Basically my entire life is dependent on that fucking operation. Who would have thought it. There’s so much pressure on it, and me, to get better after that. I mean, the doctor said at the very least i’ll have way more energy. So hopefully thats enough. Cos being beyond exhausted all the time isn’t helping.

I do have a big plan for when i’m recovered. Sadly this won’t be until January. But new year, new start, i suppose. I really believe if i can get this ill feeling gone, and the anxiety under control then life will be pretty good again.

Our luck has to change soon, surely.


For now, i’ve got 24 hours ish without Zachary. The first night away from him since before i went bat shit cray cray. Actually the longest he’s been away since then is like 6 hours. I’m not good being alone at night. So this could get interesting. But i’m 24. And my husband can’t be by my side 24/7. That shit aint healthy.


Oh and i’ve gotten into poetry again. Passes the time when i can’t even get off the sofa.

I’m so tired. Insomnia, fuck off. There’s so much whirling around in my head constantly.


This has been so rambly. No one reads this anyway thankfully.


The Struggle Is Most Definitely Real.

I’m feeling it at the moment. Everything feels like even more effort than normal. Everything hurts. My mind isn’t coping. Things are just really fucking difficult right now.

I know everyone has bad times, and i accept that life cannot always be good. But if just one truly good thing happened i’d accept it and be happy. But it doesn’t happen to me. I have the worst luck, or karma, or whatever. Whatever it is, it makes me life fucking miserable.

I’m so tired i honestly don’t even know if i can write any of this down. I don’t really feel anything at the moment other than heavy. There’s just this numbing, dark, heavy weight on top of me and I constantly feel like i can’t breathe. People are pissing me off for no reason, i’m irritable, i’m tired, i’m quiet and not quite sad but sad. I don’t even know.

I think i’m going to say i don’t know a lot in this.

It’s not that i don’t understand that everything takes work, but does everything have to be so exhausting? Sometimes even answering a question my lovely husband has asked me feels like fighting my way through a battlefield filled with, well, i don’t know. It makes me angry and feel like i can’t breathe, like something is crushing me. And all i have to say is yes or no to a cup of coffee.

A lot has been happening recently, I finally got a medical diagnosis!! After 4.5 very very long years. I should be happy, but i’m not. I thought it would come when i’d processed it. But i still just feel heavy. Maybe it’s just whatever’s going on and once things settle down i’ll get better. I don’t know.

Anyway, i have POTS. They aren’t really doing anything about it except telling me to eat a shit ton of salt and drink water like a fish. Never understood that phrase.

Zachary’s been busy with work and i think struggling himself a little bit more than usual. He’s very stressed. And grumpy. And distant. And irritable. And did i mention grumpy? He just wants to be off on his own stewing or whatever it is he does. Brooding, perhaps. I just want to help him and i can’t and when he gets stressed he doesn’t want anyone near him or want a hug or anything. And i’m the opposite, when it’s bad i need a hug. So as you can guess it’s somewhat difficult managing when we’re both struggling. But better times are what help me through. This isn’t a problem with us, it’s a problem with our situation. And we’re trying to fix it the best we can. I wont go into any more detail because only half is my story to tell.

Tomorrow should be the day of my surgery. But they cancelled it 3 days ago. So back on the waiting list i go. This has added to the heavy, soul destroying, breath snatching feeling that sits sunken into my chest constantly, we’d worked for months towards this date knowing things will be so much easier for me after the operation. And now it’s all up in the air again. But there’s nothing i can do about it. It’s a bit shit that we have no idea on a time frame for the new operation at all, it could be days, weeks, months. So i feel like i can’t really plan anything or make decision etc. But again, nothing i can do about that really so onwards we go.

God, honestly, it’s like a soul sucking hippo is sat on my chest. Never has breathing been so difficult. It’s been like this for days but today it’s just like ugghhhhh get off me. I just want to sleep and i can’t even do that.

I really want to snap out of this low. Look at how bad things were last year, even in this low they’re a million times better now. But still. Heavy hippo.

I just feel like we’re due some sort of good luck. Both of us. Things have been so hard for us recently for various reasons and we just need a break but we can’t.

I wish i wasn’t ill and i wish i hadn’t ruined everything. But all i can do is work hard when i feel well enough and try to get better.

I’m sure that things will work out in the end. But that doesn’t mean that they don’t fucking suck now. i’m not suicidal so much anymore, but if a car came speeding towards me i probably wouldn’t move out of it’s way.

Sometimes i wish i could slap myself in the face. Like now, when i’m crying and i don’t know why and i just want a hug but Zachary’s struggling and doesn’t want to be near anyone and ugh i just feel like life isn’t fair right now. We’ve done nothing to deserve this. And then i remember there are people far worse off and i feel like a selfish bitch.

Zachary said i always talk negatively and always see the negative in stuff. So i’m trying to find one positive thing a day. It’s not going well, but at least i’m trying.

Right, i’m off to either scream, have a bath, or lay in bed and cry. Maybe all 3.

I’m sorry this post has been such a downer. Blame the heavy hippo. I shall call her Hilda. Heavy Hippo Hilda. You can fuck right off.

Today’s The Day

A year ago today i fell apart. It had been brewing for over a month, but this is the moment in my mind that I really lost it. It all goes black in my memory from here onwards. Until about February. I have 2 memories from Christmas. Nothing else.

I started off comparing the good and bad. Bad from last year compared to the good of this year.

But i’ve been having a rough time again feeling very sick and having upset stomachs and i’ve been laying on the sofa for 3 days. I am so scared it’s happening again.

In some ways it shows me how far i’ve come. How close i was to ending my life i was. How much more stable i am generally these days.

In other ways i’m terrified every time i have a bad anxiety attack or feel sick more than normal. I feel like i’ve not got very far in the last year at all.

I don’t want to lose another 6 months of my life.


sometimes i feel like i should wear a big fat sign on my forehead that says “tried to kill myself. might also act like a selfish bitch. be gentle. but don’t patronise. basically I’m not worthy of your time because I’m a big fat waste of space”


Dear Friend

I don’t really know how to express how sorry I am. The words “i’m sorry” don’t feel anywhere near enough. How do I apologise for what i can only imagine looked like me not caring and just disappearing? How do i explain?

The thing is, I’m not sure i can explain it right. I don’t want pity. I don’t want to make excuses. I just need to explain, ya know? Chances are you won’t even see this, any of you. Because yes, this “letter” refers to several of you. Several people who i loved dearly, but lost. All because of me.

I am mentally ill. We all know that by now. But that’s the best place to start. I have been mentally ill since i was 16, but i’ve only learned about that recently. I thought it had just been 4 years, but i’ve discovered it’s been much longer than that. Just 4 years of it being extremely severe. It’s made so much sense now i understand, i haven’t been myself in a long time. But now i sort of know who i am again.

I have done stupid things, my friend. Things I was so desperate to hide from you I cancelled plans, ignored texts, hid away. Going into detail won’t help either of us, so I won’t. But I felt like i had to hide myself away when i hurt myself and left strange marks, when i cut all my hair off, when i burned myself, when i smashed myself in the head until it bled everywhere. There is so much more, so many things i was so ashamed of that i was to scared to be near you. I was scared that if i was with you I would breakdown. If you asked me if i was okay then i wouldn’t be able to say no. I’d tell you all my secrets about the voices i heard, all the ways i’d planned to die, all the horrible things i thought about myself.

I told myself that if i tried to only see the bad in you, then i wouldn’t feel so bad. Point out every single bad thing you did, make it seem worse than it was. Just so i could justify treating you like I did. It probably seemed like i thought i was better than you, that i hated you, I don’t know – whatever it seemed i bet it was a pile of shite. It became so easy to agree when someone said something against you. I found myself repeating it instead of defending you like I should have done. And in my mind i focussed on the negatives. Convinced myself you could never be a truly good person, that you didn’t care about me, that you hated me and were spreading vicious lies about me. When really, i was doing that myself.

Fast forward to now. My mental illnesses are slightly better. Recently i’ve had another darker time, but i’m trying to get through it this time without anything else bad happening. As i get slightly better i’m realising more and more what i’ve done. How i’ve shut every single person out of my life. How i’ve isolated myself. I seemed to have replaced a lot of my previous worries with new worries about being alone and never having friends. Never getting to see this people i loved ever again.

I guess i feel like no one wants to be friends with someone that’s ill. Mentally or physically. I can’t do normal things, i often have to cancel plans because i’m sick. I feel like you’d just get tired of me really fast. That i’d hold you back.

I feel guilty because all i want if for you to contact me and say that it’s okay, that you understand. But really i don’t feel like i deserve it. I don’t deserve to have friends, or anyone that loves me.

I saw a poem recently that starts “I do not mean to scare you, but there’s winter in my bones” and it really just hit home. That’s kind of how it feels. I hate myself for doing this. Why did i ever think that shutting everyone out and hurting people was the way to go? How did i think that would help? Honestly i don’t know. There’s 6 months of my life that i just don’t remember, that was the worst time for me shutting people out. I don’t know if the voices told me to do it. I don’t know if i just felt too weak. I don’t know if i just gave up. But please, please, never ever think i stop caring. I did it because i cared. I loved you, friend.

How can i say i’m sorry? I am so truly sorry.

I don’t know if it helps. But when i have the energy I spend all my time thinking about how to make it up to you, to everyone i hurt. How to better myself and protect myself from the darkest version of me. How to protect myself from bad people who do not have my best interest at heart. Those people aren’t any of you. I need to remember that. And i am trying. I have come up with better coping mechanisms, ways to stay hopeful. I find one thing every single day to be grateful for. One day i hope that it’s that you gave me another chance.


I doubt you’ll see this. But maybe one day i’ll feel alright to show you. I don’t know how to start talking to you again. I’m scared you won’t want to. I wouldn’t blame you at all.

I am sorry, dear friend.

Nobody Said It Was Easy

I’m pretty sure i’ve titled a post with the same thing before. But it’s still so accurate that I couldn’t think of anything else to use.

I’m feeling very deflated today. I often get like this after a doctors appointment or a hospital appointment or a procedure. I don’t really know why. It’s not like i expect them to get anywhere, or find an answer. But then i feel so deflated when they don’t anyway. Yesterday i had the colonoscopy (more on that later) and today i just feel overwhelmingly tired and sad. I know it’ll settle after a few days, but it’s pretty sucky right now.

I’d generally like to say i don’t play to much of the “I’m ill” card. Day to day i moan like hell about being poorly, and yeah i cancel plans. But i try really hard not to use being ill as an excuse. I don’t benefit from it, i don’t claim anything because of it. I’m trying to just function normally and not give my illness the attention it wants.

But recently i’ve really been through the mill (is that how that phrase goes?) with health stuff. I’ve had numerous tests, new diagnosis possibilities, more blood tests that i can count, and most recently 3 cancer scares in the space of a month. Needless to say, these have not been kind to my anxiety. I don’t think my heart rate has been below 100 recently.

Currently we’re looking at a possible diagnosis of Chrons Disease and Pots Syndrome. To be honest, now i’ve had some pretty scary things ruled out I don’t really care what the answer is. I just want one.

I have to say a HUGE thank you to my current GP. If neither of us were married I swear i’d marry him. Not in a weird “i fancy my doctor” way, but just in the way that like i think i might love him because he’s helped me so much. You know what i mean. Anyway. After being messed around for 4 years he’s done more in 6 months than those 10 doctors could in those 4 years. We do laugh every time i go in. Today he was like “you’re working your way through referrals from me aren’t you?” and i dunno. It just makes me feel a little bit better, he takes me seriously but he also takes my anxiety and phobias seriously so the balance of his approach is pretty good. Am i gushing? I’m not like stalking him, i swear. It’s just nice to be treated nicely.

Speaking of nicely, that is exactly how i was NOT treated at the Colonoscopy yesterday. It was done outsourced at some private clinic and i hated every second of it. I’m not exactly the easiest of patients, but i make every clinic aware of my Emetophobia and anxiety before any procedure, usually at the pre-assessment. I told the nurse who did my pre-assessment. I told the nurse who was there to make sure i was okay during the procedure. I told the doctor doing the procedure (who i was assured was a kind man) and i told the nurse assisting him. I cried and he got angry. The shorts didn’t fit because I’m fat and it was a “one size fits all situation” and they laughed. Meh. But he told me off that my prep hadn’t worked. I managed to drink almost all of that 2 litres of vile stuff. The last 1/2 a cup i actually threw up. Yep, i was sick. For the first time properly in almost 2 years. I dealt with it pretty well since it wasn’t due to a virus or something. But i’m pretty fucking chuffed if i’m honest. I puked and it’s no big deal. Anyway, the endoscopy. He had a go at me cos the prep was “poor” which wasn’t my fault but meh. Then they kept telling me it didn’t hurt and it bloody well did. A lot. Excruciatingly. And i kept saying ow and screwing my face up and the nurse was getting so angry with me because i screwed my face up in pain. Then they told me to stop screaming. I don’t think i was actually screaming, just loudly saying oww. But regardless, i was like I AM TRYING and they got really short with me. They were rude about my phobia. The recovery nurse was surprised to find me trying to rip my own cannula out fully dressed again when she only popped out to get me some water. I ditched the water and biscuits behind something, i don’t remember what now, and fucked off home. There’s no way i was staying there longer than i fucking had to. Thankfully nothing too scary found, no cancer like they thought, (just possible Chrons) so no colonoscopy for at least 5 years! Fuck yes. Next time i’m saving up to go private and they can fucking well knock me out for it. Never. Again. Honestly the upper endoscopy was easier and nicer, and thats coming from an Emetophobic who has a horrendous gag reflex.

ENT. Did i make a post about my recent ENT appointment? No i didn’t, i just checked. So Mr Nice GP re-refferred me even though i was told i was due to go back in 2 years. 7 recorded cases of tonsillitis in 6 months qualified me apparently, and because this doctor actually made a record of them (unlike the bastard doctor i had before) it counts! Anyway, i had a different ENT this time luckily. Matthew, i think he said his name was. I would also happily marry him. He didn’t do the nasal scope (thank you!!) and he picked up the dreaded lolly stick of doom (huge tonsils+bad gag reflex = puke) and actually when i opened my mouth he just went “Okay….”, put the stick of doom down and said they’re coming out. Sent me right to pre-op. Cue me freaking out because in the space of 2 minutes i’d gone from being prepared to fight for this operation, to sitting in the pre-op bit waiting. Process that. The pre-op couldn’t fit me in so i’m going back on the 24th and should get my tonsils out within 8 weeks. Because one is bigger than the other they need to biopsy it afterward, which freaked me the fuck out because they’re checking for cancer. But my GP said because they go up and down and it’s not always bigger, he’s 1000% sure it’s not. Phew! 3 cancer scares over with in a month. Please breathe a sigh of relief.

So, big things coming up. Biopsy results from the colonoscopy. Tonsils coming out then biopsy results. Both biopsy results just to make sure there’s nothing else wrong. But should be alright. The i’ve got the referral to cardiology done. Then once i’ve recovered from the tonsil surgery (that will NOT be fun) we start all the blood tests again and make sure thats what was causing my dodgey blood test results.

I’m tired thinking about it.

I feel like my medical journey is nearing the end. The end is definitely in sight now. Finally.

I just wish i could figure out everything else.

I just feel so bleugh. Today’s a write off, i guess. Sadly.

I know that none of this will be easy, none of it has been so far. I just wish ONE thing in my life was easy right now.

Time to listen to Paramore really loudly and block out my terrible thoughts.


Mixed Emotions.

Since my last post i’ve had a pretty steady mix of good and bad times. The bad being soul destroying. The good being not that good really but not soul destroying. I’ve been watching a lot of tv, doing a lot of research on plant based protein powder and also looking into the current tests to possibly diagnose Pots.

Then i get random times like today, where I don’t feel any better physically than normal. But either mentally or energy wise something has change and i suddenly feel like i can conquer the world. I got up early for me, despite a crappy night sleep (it’s been over 2 months since my last decent sleep! send help) and we decided to drive just over an hour to Hobbycraft. We’ve started trying to do things together in the morning now. Zachary works all day every day bless him, and i fit in my work around him which is lucky. I usually sleep in all morning because i don’t sleep until around 5am. But if getting up at 8am means I get to spend some time with him that isn’t sat in our chairs doing work then i’m going to jump at the chance.

Okay, not jump. My hips would protest! But you catch you drift, i’m sure.

We went to Hobbycraft and i ooh’d and ahh’d at all the pretty things. I was very well behaved though and only got 1 thing that was for me and not for “business” stuff. Doesn’t mean i didn’t spend a small fortune though! But i don’t feel guilty about it since i’ll make money off these things. I bought the teeniest, tiniest little pom pom maker ever after my fork pom pom making incident made me vow to never make them that way again. I’m in the process of making things for the Christmas Gift Fayre i’m attending. Still struggling with the whole making Christmas items in July/August, but on rainy days like this its a bit easier to break out the chunky yarn and huge hooks.

Zachary’s out at 2 appointments this afternoon. I’m only recently able to stay home on my own when he’s out, and all previous times he’s gone out he’s messaged or called me constantly. Mainly to stop panic attacks. Which is better than the whole ‘knives in the car boot’ situation i touched on before. Today though, this energy or mood lift, whatever it was, made me feel a bit different. I planned a nice dinner (after a very unhealthy Burger King lunch – Zachary’s choice!!!) of healthy avocado and spinach pasta with tomatoes and thought i might as well pop to the Green Grocer’s and get the avocado i need.

In Hobbycraft i bought some cool flavoured icing sugar and i remembered i wanted to make fudge for our anniversary on the 20th. I’m having a couple of small procedures on the 11th and 14th and i’m not sure i’ll be with it again by the 20th, so i thought i’d make it today.

So off i went to the shop and the green grocer’s. By myself. Bought the stuff. Came home. Made the fudge. I’m not sure it’s going to set, but hey! Who doesn’t love salted caramel hot fudge sauce, eh? Haha!

The living room is messy. Two big deliveries last week and a trip to Makro + one tiny house means we never know where to put everything and end up dumping it by the front door in the living room. So i moved everything and tidied and cleaned the floor. And then i thought fuck it i’ll clean the bathroom so i did that too.

Then i had a little 2 minute cry because my hip was in so much pain. But ho hum, I did it.

I don’t know why i’m rambling. Actually, i do. I’m really fucking proud of myself right now. I am kicking my phobia and mental illnesses’ arses. Wow, what’s the plural for plural illnesses? My brain hurts.

Going to start making some pom poms once i’ve had some water. I’ve been pretty shit at self care recently. Showering is better. But water is particularly bad and my kidneys are raging about it. Lots of pain. But we can’t win them all, can we?

I’m now hoping this good patch lasts more than just today, but if it doesn’t i can at least remember it and remember that another one will show up at some point. When i cry and cry because it feels like it won’t end at least in the back of my head i’ll know it’s better.

I look back to this time last year and it was the start of a very dark six months for me. I’d already been struggling with suicidal thoughts and self harming and it was only getting worse. A year later and i’m self harm clean (minus one little slip up last week) for a long time and I’m starting to kick my addiction to anti-emetics again. 7 days clean from those! Whoop.

I don’t know. Things seem better. When i’m outside on a good day i find myself looking up and appreciating my surroundings more. There is so much beauty in this world that i have never seen before.

These bad days will come back though. But i will be okay.

For now though, lots and lots of water for me! And some rest because i think i ran out of spoons before i even started cleaning. Whoops.

Hang on.

You know the best bit?

I did this on my own.

I got better by myself. Okay, Zachary helped a little. But it was only ever me who could really get through the darkest of times and i fucking did it. I’m so proud of myself.

Even if i continue to amount to nothing in life and never work or have any skills. At least i beat this. That’s one thing.

Anyway. I’m off for a rest. Someone please send me a frying pan i can knock myself out with tonight! Thanks!