Don't Look at Me

For as long as I can remember, I've had issues with the way I look. I was kindof chubby as a kid, but no more than the ordinary 'puppy fat' and I did eventually grow out of it, but I never grew out of that feeling, and as I went through puberty and my teenage years, it got worse and worse and I eventually ended up bulimic for about three years (I have not been bulimic for ten years now).
Convinced my grotesque, oversized dead weight body was the thing that defined me, the reason people spoke to me, the deciding factor in most of the karma that came my way, I over compensated with a 'larger than life' personality. I thought of myself as the 'jolly' one, the fat girl with a big heart and all the other terrible clichéd views one can think of. It was painful waking up every day and looking in the mirror, I didn't if I could help it and I would hide under baggy, shapeless clothes that encompassed me with some sort of coping mechanism and each day would start the same - I would tell myself to not let people realise the real you is under these clothes, don't let the world know how disgusting you really are, be funny and loud to distract them and your size won’t matter.... I was 9 stone.

Almost ironically, from the age of 13 I suffered with the most chronic acne, covering my entire face, chest and back, this is something I went to my GP about time after time, year after year and finally got sorted only last year, 13 years on from my first spot with a potent dose of Roacutane (more on that another times). I have been left with scarring which bug me, but I never once compared it to my issues with my weight, even though if I had ANYTHING to be unhappy about with my appearance, it was most certainly the state of my skin.
I used to own and run a beauty clinic and one of my main procedures was skin rejuvenation, I’d sit there and discuss in depth treatments, preventions and cures of all manner of skin problems, superficial AND medical, whilst having a face full of angry, red, pulsing spots. It made me feel silly, but I could (and did) joke about it – my weight though, that being brought to attention would make me go into hiding for days.

I don't have the energy to wash my hair every day, wear make up every day or dress up every day, so I have a constant internal battle to ignore the inside demons that tell me I’m fat, I’m ugly, I have ridiculous hair, my makeup is wrong, I have something on my face etc. I can't walk down the road by myself without these thoughts CONSTANTLY racing through my mind. I find there’s not much point in talking to people about it either, because most times I have, people just think you’re attention seeking, looking for compliments or totally vain being so worried about your appearance, I might even agree with them. I once didn’t go out because I just felt so low about myself, how I looked and how I felt about how I looked, and got called a Diva for a LONG time afterwards. Maybe it is a diva move, maybe it is self absorbed and vain, but if it is it’s not fun.
For example, I wear a bright pink coat that I love, and other people seem to too. But unless people comment that they like it, which has only happened a handful of times, everyone else just looks. I can't take it. It makes me feel so sick, it’s not about the coat anymore, it’s about my ill fitting shirt underneath my jumper (that they can't see) or about a big splodge of mascara on my face that I missed during the 32nd time I’ve checked myself before leaving the house, all these things that I make up in my head and they stay with me throughout the day just from two seconds of eye contact with a passing stranger. Don’t get me wrong, it’s getting better, as I’ve gotten older it’s not EVERY time I go out, it’s about 60% of the time at the moment and this has given my head some massive breathing space.

My boyfriend has no luck with me either, he thinks I'm at my most beautiful when I am make up less and scruffy, totally natural and I should probably believe him, but I just think thats LAUGHABLE. I try not to go on at him about it because I don't want to be that girl, but inside it's genuinely incomprehensible to me that someone I love would feel that way about me, so I just carry on about my business and fight the demons inside, to live a semi happy life with him.
I find it incredibly easy to assess the appearance of others and whether or not they are a threat to me or not, I am immediately intimidated by attractive people and I HATE myself for that being my first reaction to anyone, because I like to see the beauty in others and promote that we are all the same and should accept ourselves as we are, flaws and all, which is what I try my absolute best to project onto others, but that’s just not how my head works when it comes to myself.

I hope this all makes a little bit of sense? My head hurts.

100 Happy Days

It’s very, very easy to feel like no one understands you, especially when no one is listening.

I have felt for longer than I can remember now that no one listens to me or takes me seriously or actually cares at all about the thoughts I have. This has caused me quite a lot of pain and fractured my confidence hugely over the last few years.
There are SO many things I don't like about people, the people I have chosen to let in my life as well as the people I can’t do anything about being in my life. Though more than these people, there are things I really, really don’t like about myself. Okay, that’s stating the obvious, obviously I don’t expect anyone truly loves EVERYTHING about themselves, and also obvious because I started writing this for the internet ether to try and express myself about my depression and anxiety, but it’s not always as clear cut as gloom and doom.

I feel really conflicted in my views on approaching the battle, recently. I certainly feel like everyone should feel totally free and comfortable to talk about how they feel, to anyone they choose, but sometimes you need to draw a line.

I frequently feel lonely, sad, isolated, angry, frustrated, stifled and unhappy. Sometimes I feel all these things in the space of one day (read: hour). I feel like it is my right to talk about these feelings to the people closest to me, a little so they understand, a little so they can fulfil their jobs as ‘friends’ and a little to just feel the way I feel at the time I feel it and get it out. I think one shouldn’t have to constantly put on a mask and pretend to anyone, (lying to yourself and your loved ones is a perpetual reason for worsening depression). BUT... isn’t sometimes, enough, just, well, enough?
I’m well aware most loved ones only want to help and are only worried about me/you and your happiness. I for one know that my J is continually wishing he could make me happy, and often mentions that it upsets him that he can't do that. Is that fair? No. This makes me feel like I cause HIM unhappiness. Is it my fault? No. Is it his? No. Is it common? Yes. Is it frustrating for both parties? Most certainly.

If I read back my diary, as far back as the entries go (about 14 years), very few of them are remembering happy moments or capturing exciting times in my life. When I read them I feel grey. I’ve conditioned myself to write things down when I am associating with negativity, because I’ve always believed this helps me through the dark times. And it absolutely has helped me, in a way, anyway. It helps me express and get out how I’m feeling. It helps me de-compartmentalize. It helps me to make small senses of things that have been blown up in my mind and that send my emotions rollercoastering all around the place. But as I keep all my entries, it also helps to serve as a reminder of the bad times. Just like talking to someone, does.

Before when I said, ‘isn’t enough, enough?’ I was NOT hinting at replacing talking to someone when you feel ill with writing, THAT certainly doesn’t work. I want to work towards a world where there is ZERO stigma or discrimination attached to mental health, where dedicated professionals are on hand to help and there is a comfortable outlet available 24/7 for people who need help. But what I’m talking about is there are people out there (like me) who have the issue of mistaking negativity for ‘low mood’.
For a very long time I have been battling demons, for a variety of reasons. I still struggle over ten years on from a family bereavement and the carnage it left behind. I am body dimorphic. I have social anxiety. My father’s side of the family is beyond messed up. I have severe anger issues when I don't get my own way. I am really paranoid. I am really selfish. I have huge debts that I cannot pay. I have a failed business. I have failed friendships, and I generally have a broken family life. I have hated all my jobs, and I have never been any good at any of them.
What I’m beginning to think more and more is that yes, I have a right to feel down, but I do very little to bring myself out of the lull. I have tried three types of medication on three occasions now over a number of years and I find it either works for a period of time and then you’re back to square one or it just numbs me completely and whilst I don’t feel like I want to jump in front of a train, it doesn’t make me want to live either – it takes away all emotions and you’re just left as an empty vessel. I have tried counselling, it just wasn’t for me with the NHS, but I understand the IMMENSE importance of its existence and am a huge supporter of ANYONE giving it a go.
What I haven’t really tried, is just doing more things that make me happy. Sometimes I don't even know what makes me happy, is it shopping? Being with friends/family? Watching something funny? Sex? Walking? Running? Reading? Writing? Working?
I’ve had to really think about it and that seems crazy to me, how can you not know what makes you happy?! And is it really that simple?

So, the whole point of this ‘post’ (and to prove the ramble above isn’t totally random) is because I made a decision last week to take the ‘100 Happy Days Challenge’, details of which can be found here - http://100happydays.com/
The point is, you do one thing every day that makes you happy and take a photo of something that represents it. You can choose to upload it onto social media with the hashtag #100happydays (so the creators can find you) or you can post privately so the challenge creators can run analytics and take surveys afterwards about who has done what, how far people have gotten and how the whole thing has made them feel. This excites me MUCHOS. I am SO negative these days that I’m just looking forward to enjoying at least one thing in a day, even if I have to force myself. Just the thought of FOR ONCE living in the moment and not taking the small things that I enjoy for granted, not giving shit about what other people think or feel of me and just being...well, happy.
And that makes it sound like I’m constantly unhappy, which I have to continually explain to the people who don’t listen to me (yes, I’m looking at YOU), that this isn’t the case. Suffering from depression doesn’t just mean you’re a blanket misog who can't find joy in anything, but it does mean you struggle with it and it does mean you spend many days just wondering why on earth you bother with anything. You feel nothing at all, and that includes happiness and unhappiness.
I understand that this is difficult to understand for those who aren’t on the rollercoaster with me. And believe me, I want to explore the effects of my grey clouds on my relationships with others, but right now, I’m going to indulge in the selfishness I’ve allowed myself to be encompassed in and do things that >I< want to do, and to start, I’m going to be doing it for me.

Anyway, I want to REALLY have a proper crack from this moment on at finding happiness in the everyday, and positivity in the grey. I know this all seems a little cheesy, but fuck it, I haven’t got anything better to do and I haven’t got any other ideas up my sleeves. I want to find inspiration in things I haven’t noticed before and I want to invest more time in the activities and people I actually care about, rather than waste it on the negative ones I have been for the last few years, because they have NOT been making me happy. I need to learn to curb my enthusiasm for causing arguments with the people I love and stop getting irritated so easily.

Whatever, I just need to at least try do something to make things a even a little bit brighter around these parts, it’s got to be worth a shot...

Grey Today

Today is a day I don't feel particularly good. I don’t know why. It could be the grey skies, it could be the frustration of my internet dropping constantly, it could be the bad mark I got on my last uni TMA, or it could be the impending birthday I have looming ever closer.

Whatever it is, today I feel like I’m taking two steps backwards and I want to start thinking about how I can combat this, and to do that I need to figure out, if I can, where it’s come from. So here is a list of things that I’m thinking about A LOT that are bugging me and could be possible triggers for today’s anxiety –

• Not being able to get to the gym (Rachael’s injury).
• The Internet not working or, worse – working intermittently.
• Reading my tutors FAIR comments about my last assignment that was less than average work.

I think that’s it, today, actually. I don’t know why I’m letting those things get to me so much. I’ve been a bag of panicky nerves all day though, and it’s making the thought of going out later seem REALLY unappealing. The internet not working is annoying, but when I think about it, it’s the only reason I started writing this post, and it could be the contributing factor to getting some other stuff done. Stuff that I otherwise would put off until the very last minute like usual because I’ve spent all day convincing myself that I am doing enough to find a job or improve my life by staring blankly at all the open tabs on my screen. Ugh.

Poor Rachael has slipped a disc in her back, so is out of action for a little while. I could probably get to the gym and get let in by Joe or maybe Mel but they would have to dictate the times and I am slightly nervous about getting caught out, to be honest. Also, with the internet not working this would be the IDEAL opportunity to go out for a run, or at the very least do some P90X training whilst I have the place to myself. But what is stopping me? It’s not ALL laziness.

Lastly; my TMA. It’s my own fault, I didn’t pick up my books AT ALL since TMA 02 and I was so smug with my last result that I guess I didn’t think I needed to. Then it got later and later and I panicked and pulled 1000 words totally out of my arse the day before it needed handing in. This was stupid. I got 59 out of 100. This is made up out of 22 marks out of 50 for the first part and 37 marks out of 50 for the second. I realise this isn’t TERRIBLE given the stupid time frame I gave myself AND the fact I had done NO study, but it just is not good enough, for me. People do NOT realise this about me, but I am a perfectionist. This is the reason I do not put effort into things I don’t believe I can’t do well – because if I attain anything less than top marks, I see it is a failure. It’s the reason I pull stupid faces in photos too; I would rather pull a silly face and look stupid, than try and pull a nice one and still look stupid. I apply this in almost everything I do, which is why I approach things either very cautiously or very gung-ho and without proper research. It’s something I’ve always done and it’s why I always disappoint myself.

That is disappointing to me. I don’t know where the secret lies in feeling better about these types of things. Sertraline is certainly taking the edge off my rage fuelled moods and teary outbursts – but that doesn’t tell me WHY. Why do I feel sick when I think about leaving the house? Why am I twitching my leg uncontrollably? Why am I feeling chest pains just THINKING about doing some studying?

I don’t know where this shit comes from but I want to punch it in the face. I am so, so sick of this feeling.

Inexplicably, I am sitting in Starbucks again having not turned up to another interview, again.

Job hunting is fine when you’re behind the comfort of your screen and bigging yourself up, adjusting your CV and covering letter to make you sound more ‘together’ than you actually are. It normally is also fine up until the morning of the interview, should you be lucky enough to get chosen for one, until it actually comes to leaving the house.
For me, this is the crux of the issue when it comes to job interviews, getting there. 

So, recently, I have been invited to a total of six interviews, only one did I manage to turn up for.
Reading that last sentence REALLY pains me. It makes me so angry and so embarrassed at myself for being so stupid. I can only really tell you the reason for not attending one of them, which would probably have ended up being the best one as it was for the least amount of hours (12) and for the most amount of wage hourly (£20), and it just sounded like the EXACT kind of thing I can do and do well, but I didn’t go and that’s because I had a mammoth unexpected hangover. The rest of them, well, I just sent myself into oblivion and lost myself in a fog of denial.

I really like to think, if I had gone to each of these job interviews I would have at least been offered one of them, and if I had I obviously would have jumped at accepting because my financial situation is absolutely critical right now. In fact, just thinking about that particular area of my life has sent my anxiety utterly soaring.
Anxiety is a thing that is so difficult to explain to others, who are yet to experience it. I have no doubt I have been experiencing it all my life without properly taking notice of how it’s been manifesting – everyone gets nervous about answering the phone, right?
For me, it is short, sharp bursts of intense adrenaline shooting up and down my body making my chest feel like it’s about to explode, I usually get shaky and warm, sometimes I sweat and I find it almost impossible swallow or to speak without a quiver in my voice.
This can happen just before I step into a new building, meet a new person, pick up the phone, make a phone call, type an email or look in the mirror. I’ve noticed recently, after having made some more disastrous choices about my role as a ‘business owner’ that these have felt less like bursts and more like extended periods of continual upheaval in my heart.

Having only been on my medication a week, I can see it’s helped physically. It’s almost like my body fights itself, like it WANTS to be anxious but there’s a wall my anxiety can't burst through. It’s still there, but it seems easier to swallow.
I can’t decide if this is a good thing or a bad thing. Should I be lucky enough to land a job in the next few weeks, how am I going to cope with gulping down my fear and holding in my nerves while trying to learn about a new role and impress people I don’t care about? That thought alone is enough to put me off even looking anymore.
I’m not very good at anything in particular; I don’t enjoy anything in particular. There is no specific career path I want really, and there isn’t one that I can see myself staying in. Don’t get me wrong, people say at 26 this is still young and perfectly normal, there are millions of people my age going through the EXACT same thing, but they are still in their bottom rung position hating life or making waves and paving the way for a heart attack before 40. I don’t want to be a part of either of those lives, but I can’t seem to de-compartmentalise my thoughts for long enough to make sense of things.

The thought of sitting at a desk, welcoming people to an office and serving them tea, coffee etc until my smile freezes my face hurts me. I don’t know why. What I really WANT right now is a job I can be alone in. I don't care how boring it is, how mind numbing or even easy it is. I just want to sit in a room, be it at home or somewhere else, by myself, without having to talk to anyone. What job can I have that has zero communication? Is there such a role? Does it exist? If there is one, I want it.

I can’t bare being around people at the moment. Even my friends, people who care about me and seemingly are worried about me; I just don’t want to talk to them. I feel exactly the same way with my family and my boyfriend at the moment too. All I want to do each day is curl up in a ball and get through, wasting away from one precious minute to the next. And with that, how am I expected to get a job and keep it? How am I expected to get up every morning and force myself into a situation that I don’t belong in?
I know I NEED to do this, there’s simply no way my life can continue the way it is, the guilt I place upon myself because the burden I am on my family is too great, and the weight of heart every time my poor mum comes home from the job she hates breaks me.

It’s funny, not having a job makes me feel worthless, but then the jobs I have had have made me feel worthless, and now, I think I am too worthless for the interviews I’ve been offered. When this cycle will end, I don’t know, but it needs to end soon or I could find myself in hotter water than ever before, and because of my avoidance personality traits, no one will ever know until my world comes toppling down around me and I cannot hide anymore.

Its funny how I think I’m too good for jobs that pay minimum wages, but not good enough for jobs that would pay me more. I won't consider applying for a job that pays less than £10 an hour because I NEED to earn more, but I also don’t put any effort into jobs that come with more responsibility (and therefore pays more) because of my absolute crippling self doubt – does that make sense? Am I totally alone in feeling like this?
I’ve never really properly signed on either because of my anxiety about going there and admitting that I am not only jobless, but worthless too, which brings me exactly back to my first point.

I can feel my anxiety rising again, perhaps it’s the small coffee I had, perhaps it’s my continual self deprecating thought processes about working and making more mistakes and not being very good at anything.

The Intro

So, my first, ‘blog post’. My first post that I'm going to share with the world about the one thing I feel I have some jurisdiction to write about, mental illness.

To those of you reading this and don’t know who I am, feel free to leave, judge or comment. My purpose of being here is to no longer be scared of you. The many, many times I have written something, published it and then immediately either deleted it or done EVERYTHING in my power to make sure no one I know actually reads it is, well, unquantifiable. Suffice to say, it is a lot of times.
And to those of you reading this that DO know me personally, you can also feel free to leave, judge, or comment. My purpose of being here is to no longer be scared of you too.

This might all sound a little confusing and self indulgent, but bare with me, it’ll get interesting.

I realised a while ago I was fucked. I realised not longer after I realised I was fucked that I had been fucked for a LONG time. We’re all being fucked by someone, and I don’t mean in the nice, go out for dinner beforehand kind of way.

Have you settled into adult life? Are you working in the bottom rung position, arse licking everyone in sight? Yeah, that bad taste in your mouth each morning isn’t just morning breath – it’s that bitter taste of crap you swallow every time you smile sweetly at someone you hate or laugh flakily at unfunny jokes in an office that reeks of fakes and floozies and people absolutely destined to become subjects of your nightmares.
Do you have an adequate degree yet? Are you working towards one? Did you give up education to have children?  Do you have a mortgage for a house you don’t want and can’t afford? Are you in love? Would you fight for it? Does it consume you? Or are you lonely, confused, miserable and promising yourself tomorrow will be different?
Wherever you are, and (I appreciate my list is limited – there are other places in life to be, I know), I bet it’s not an easy or comfortable place to be.

As I catapult myself towards the 27^th year of being wretched on this wretched planet, I can’t help but wonder – when will this shit not be so shit? It’s no longer a question of ‘are you fucked?’ but more – ‘how fucked are you’?
Not sure how to answer that one for myself and not sure I ever will. My life has so far been a series of disastrous mistakes, from the small food choice I make on a daily basis to fairly large job choices, friend choices, relationship choices and ultimately, trust choices. Not just in my relationships, but within myself. I have NEVER, EVER trusted myself to make a correct decision, EVER.

I pour over every word I type, speak and think, and still never quite feel I’ve used the right one. It’s utterly exhausting. I beat myself up on a daily basis about the way I look, talk, sound, think, feel and how other people see me. I can’t remember the last time I genuinely felt ‘at ease’.
This year has been an exceptionally bad one. Not because of ‘what’s happened’, shit happens every day to everyone and I get that. I don’t think my situational position this year have landed me with my current grey cloud, I can't pinpoint what has.
Suffering largely in silence my whole life, I have never spoken about the exact way I feel to anyone during any of my emotional break downs, and looking back through my life there has been plenty, whether I've realised this or not. I have ALWAYS covered up how I feel. I have omitted or fabricated critical pieces of information and situations to try and make myself not just look and sound better, but feel better too. I don’t think I've ever told the complete truth about my life and how I feel about it, ever.
So I have recently been put on a medicine called ‘Sertraline’ which has so far calmed me down physically. Over the last week I have not once had a sweaty, shaky, heart pounding episode of fear that has struck me repeatedly in various situations over the last few years. I also haven’t felt like beating the shit out of anyone who says hello to me in the wrong way OR crying my heart out over an overdue message from my boyfriend. I’ve THOUGHT about behaving that way, I just haven’t physically wanted to. So, for a week, for me, that’s pretty good.

My life is not where I want it to be. It’s not what I want it to be and I am not who I want to be. And the funny thing is, I think a lot of people who are on the outside looking into my life and who take the things I tell them at face value (why wouldn’t you?) think my life is pretty okay. Well it’s not, and it hasn’t been for a very long time and I have FINALLY decided to be honest and open about it in the most narcissistic way possible, another little blog that I’ll probably forget about once the meds kick in and I ‘feel better’.

I know SO many people who are in a similar boat as me. Frustrated, lonely, tired, sad, embarrassed and nowhere near ready to face this world and talk about all the shit that bogs them down. I have lived in the presence of genius and watched it decline until the point of utter obscurity. I have also lived in the presence of mediocrity and that, too, is no better. People deserve much more than this uncomfortable way of living – dying a little every day just to succeed in a world that doesn't want you.

Whatever this turns out to be – I just want people to know that I feel alone, and many, many others do too. We’re not. I need help in realising that I am not, so this is a little plea for help, compassion and understanding.

It’s also a massive ‘fuck you’ to the stigma’s that attach itself to us, our little colony of grey clouded mind fucks who have no idea what the problem is, but just know there’s a problem.

I’m late to this party, and I didn’t bring a gift for the host. Hopefully that means once I’ve left I won't be invited back.