What Living With A Mental Illness Is REALLY Like.

You know, sometimes people can be so judgemental. Especially if they have not experienced something that you have or that you may be going through. And ESPECIALLY when it comes to mental health and depression. They may think they are doing nothing wrong by what they are saying but believe you,me, Their comments can do A LOT of damage to someone regardless of whether they say it to your face or tell someone behind your back. A name call here. A barbed comment there. It all adds up. This happens to me a lot with a certain person who shall remain nameless but who I have known for a very long time. The worst thing you can say to someone with depression or mental health problems is 'Snap out of it' LIKE IT IS THAT EASY!!!!

Anything can trigger depression - whether it is a number of small things leading up to it or just one big thing - and it is not a very nice illness to have. I have something inside my head and he is called 'Trevor the Terror' I call him that because he really is a terror. He laughs at me and calls me names especially when things go wrong. He tells me I am fat,ugly and pathetic. That I don't deserve anyone's love and they are all better off without me and when it gets so bad he shouts at me to do everyone a favour and kill myself. Maybe he is right, I don't know. But would YOU like this in your head? Even when he's not at the forefront of my head I know he's still there just waiting....
 If you are reading this and thinking 'Here comes another attention seeker' Please just stop and think again. I am NOT doing this because I want people to feel sorry for me and go 'Aww poor you' I am sharing my personal experiences with the world because I want to help people and raise awareness of mental illness. Depression is a silent killer and If me writing this blog means saving someones life then so be it.

If I had a physical disability I think people would be less judgemental and less critical. Like 'Oh well it's ok because you have a physical disability' but when it comes to mental illness it's like 'Oh your not sick. You look alright to me.' So you are a doctor or psychiatrist are you? You can see inside my head?
 OK so this is me in a nutshell. I have depression and have had symptoms since aged 11 years old. I suffer from anxiety. I also have BPD - Borderline Personality Disorder. I have a history of self harm,have made numerous suicide attempts and have had (and time to time still have)suicidal thoughts plus a binge eating disorder. And I am ready to open up and share my story although there are some things I would like to keep hidden away and not reveal. Even I have skeletons in the closet.
I sometimes talk on Social media about mental health. Mental health is a very important subject to me and I have family who have gone through the same thing. You may have seen selfies of me on my social media accounts. I smile in almost all of them but they are all fake!I only smile because I feel I need to just for the selfie. My heart is beyond broken for me to ever be genuinely happy. My head is completely messed up. Too much has happened for them to be 100% fixed. But more on that further on in the blog. I will now be explaining some of the things (but not all - that is why I spoke about skeletons) that took place in my life which led to my depression and beyond. So here goes....


I go by four quotes -
1) Just because you don't look sick physically does not mean that you ARE well mentally so do not judge.
2) You cannot see mental illness so BE KIND!
3) Behind every smile lies a story
4) It is much easier just to fake a smile and pretend that you are ok just to save face rather than admitting how you truly feel and getting the help you need.


Half the time I don't know why I am still here. I tell this to dad. He isn't actually my real father but he is the closest thing I have to a dad and who I love with all my heart, both my real parents died incase you are wondering. For most of my life I have felt different. Most of my adult life I have felt I don't belong and that I should just disappear (in other words die! - like certain people and Trevor wanted) but all I really wanted and still want is to be and feel loved. I am actually scared that I will be eventually abandoned and unloved. I love dad and I love my sister but sometimes it just is not enough to just love and be loved.

I have always wanted to be an actress - I can pretend I am someone else for a bit and just forget about being myself. I went to college but I really wanted to go to uni to continue getting further with acting but my drama teacher implied I was too thick to handle the written work. It is true that I do struggle with written work. I find it hard to explain things sometimes so I find it easier just writing it down but then even I can find THAT hard too. I had symptoms of depression around 2000 according to my doctor but I can barely remember that. I know how things started though. I was 11 and had just started secondary school. I was being bullied because of my weight and I was comfort eating - that is how I started with my eating disorder.  I was being picked on since I started nursery and primary school anyway, because I was rather chubby anyway but the bullying escalated once I reached Secondary school. Just after starting year 7 a classmate was killed in a road accident and just after that I had started shoplifting. I was caught after the third time. I was very embarrased and ashamed of myself and to this day I still am and I have no idea why I did it.

2002 was when I first started self harming. I felt so lonely,low,down and desperate most of the time. I still do to this day. I only had a couple of real friends and I no longer speak to them. So I would end up taking myself off to the library at break and lunch just to avoid having to sit with people in the canteen. One day near the second anniversary of my classmate's death I remember I had kind of gone a bit weird. I was looking at all the flowers. For some reason I decided to stand in the road. Someone I knew had to drag me out of the way as I was about to be run over but I just felt numb - I didn't even care that I had nearly been run down.  Then I had noticed I was starting to snap at people in my class. This is where I knew that something was wrong but I didn't seek help for years after.
In 2003 I changed schools twice due to moving home. The first school change was ok and I wasn't bullied as much although it did happen. As bullying happens in every school. Things seemed to feel a little better. I will admit that I did self harm a couple of times. I also came out to a couple of school friends and family as bisexual. My school friends were supportive but what really got me was my nan and aunties reaction and that is what stopped me from coming out to anyone else until I was 16 and was in a relationship with my first girlfriend. But It was the final school change that got me. The bullying was horrendous. I was physically assaulted twice by two different girls at two different times and one of them was homophobic to me and I was sprayed with a hosepipe. I would have grass,snow and sweets chucked at me. I would be called terrible and disgusting names. People would 'Open both doors for me so I could fit through'. Someone whispered 'Whale' to me as I walked past. I tried telling one of the teachers who had also walked past at the time but she got angry,and didn't believe me so I was left to look like a liar. This is one reason why I was reluctant to report things to the teachers most of the time - at any of my schools - for fear that I would not be believed and fear that the persons responsible would deny it. Which was usually the case. I even had the 'elastic band treatment' - I pretended I hadn't felt it and they noticed as they were commenting 'God she didn't even feel that'
It was in 2005,the year I left school that I first considered suicide. In 2004 I had been hospitalised overnight for self harm due to something that had gone off with a neighbour at home and two of the cuts were bad enough to leave scars which I still have and can see to this day.  So I had decided it would be an overdose. Though I managed to neck a small amount of Cocodemol,nothing happened and a few days later I told my sisters school welfare nurse who then told my mum. Mum was upset as I told her why I did it but I told her I was fine and that I would not do it again. After that I kept things quiet over the next three or so years...

A couple of months before I left school I FINALLY stood up for myself - physically! And no one ever bothered me or picked on me again - Such a shame I didn't do it at the start.
After that things kind of quietened down a bit but come the end of 2006 things were starting to go bad again and over time I became steadily unwell
I did a few things that was not in my character includng meeting up with a few people I had just met online and giving them what they wanted. I was having a few problems at home,snapping at my mum and sister,spending my income and not giving my mother anything for keeping me. I was not enjoying life,stopped looking after myself properly and had some seriously horrible thoughts so ended up seeing the mental health team and nothing came of it.  I was told to leave home twice. The first time was on my 18th birthday but I ended up staying  because I had agreed to give mum some of my jsa every fortnight. The second time was in October 2007 and I can't remember why I was kicked out but I remember mum ringing round to find hostels which she couldn't so the next day I had to go through a waiting list for supported housing in Leeds. I moved in to my first flat in April 2008. I wish I hadn't taken it now....It was my next door neighbour who was the reason for this. She had decided to suddenly take a dislike to me after a couple of months and by August 2008 I had now genuinely started to fear for my life especially when she tried to kick my door down,interfering twice with the key hole and door handle. I twice had to get the police involved and in the end,when it got so bad I had to go to my housing support officer and get an emergency move out - to the next street believe it or not! Luckly she never came near me again. This situation affected me more than I let on and to this day still brings me down.
I was very badly cyber bullied on two sites  from 2007-2012- one of which had a gossip section and I was usually the victim of that. I would also receive messages on the sites, some were the usual 'You fat cow lose some weight' and 'stop eating all the pies' but some were just really bad. One in particular said 'Why didn't your mum drown you at birth? Do us all a favour and kill yourself'. I suppose you are wondering why I didn't delete the accounts. The reason is because I wanted to make some friends and through social media. As sad as it sounds I was lonely and just wanted some new friends to talk to. By March 2009 it was confirmed that I had anxiety and depression after talking to my doctor. Finally a real diagnosis. I had also been diagnosed with type 2 diabetes just two months before
I met someone online in May 2009 we met for the first time on a date. He was very polite and had bought me some lovely red roses and took me to McDs. He was not local and didn't know the area. He asked me if I could stay with him at a guesthouse. Of course I stupidly agreed went back there with him after going home to tell my mum. One thing led to another. We had a nice evening and fell asleep in bed. Until I woke up the next morning to find him sexually assaulting me. Just because I had consented the previous afternoon did NOT mean he had the right to violate me. I had not given him permission to do what he did and I felt confused and frightened. This has never left my mind and is one of the main reasons why I have trouble trusting people especially men and I am afraid to say something very similar happened in 2012 which I will come to soon. I never saw the guy again as I asked him not to talk to me again.

Unfortunately in May 2009 I had another issue at home and I had to stay in a b&b for two nights through choice. While I was there I took another overdose. This time I took 24 metformin - and promptly threw the whole lot back up again. The next day when I came home the hospital told me I had not damaged my liver and was very lucky - I should have died! Maybe I should have took the whole box and saved everyone the bother of living. I ended up moving out in to a hostel for three months and in to my own flat on 31st August 2009 just before I started my performing arts course at College. But where I was living, I could barely afford real furniture and had no carpets. I was surviving on income support. My flat was basic and a few times I had to rely on nan for handouts which I didn't want to do. It was also in a very isolated area. 6 miles from the nearest town with buses every 2 hours. But because I was joining college, I couldn't stay in the hostel so I had to take the flat.  I stayed at mums when I had college but the rest of the time I was back home in Kintbury alone and isolated and with nothing for comfort except for music,dvds and food...

College was brilliant but I was quiet most of the time and too emotional - and people noticed. Though people complimented me on my new shoes,my new clothes and my new perfume they never really bothered with me much - and the feeling was mutual. In January 2010 two idiots made comments about me while I was having a cigarette. I don't really smoke unless I am very stressed or I really want one. Anyway, one of them said 'You are meant to smoke it not eat it' And at that point I self harmed in front of them by burning my hand with the cig and they noticed. 'What is she doing?' One said. Of course, two people from my course found me doing it,knocked the cig out of my hand and made me talk to them about what I was doing. They went and told one of the support staff and I ended up having to talk to her and go to the first aid room so the nurse could bandage my hand. Needless to say I was not really happy about the girls telling on me but I do now understand why.

And again a few months towards the end of the course my depression kicked in. I couldn't be bothered to look after myself properly once again. I fell out with someone on my course over social media of all things - and it was nothing to even do with that person who got involved. In the Summer I was sweating as I was very overweight but wasn't showering all the time or wearing socks so in the end people were just refusing to go near me,only when they had to for the performance or rehersals. After leaving College in 2010 I became my mums carer and Then in 2011 I ended up trying to commit suicide via asphyxiation. I then went straight to the doctor who put me on Citalopram and referred me to the MH team. I did a questionnaire and then later I was told I had BPD. Things escalated from there, self harmed a number of times and by the time 2012 came I was starting to wish I had never been born.

 I was looking for a job on Gumtree and someone answered my ad asking if I could do massages. I said I wasn't very good at them but he said that was ok and would he be able to come over. So I explained I lived on my own and he offered to give me a massage after. So I said OK. At first everything was fine. Until he did the same thing that my date in 2009 had done to me. Except I was lying on my front. He could not see my face but if he had, he would have seen I was terrified. So in the end instead of confronting him and telling him to get off me, I lay there and took the assault. He then left.  I gave up my tennancy a few months after and moved back in with mum and my dad at mums request.
2013 Had finally arrived and it was one of my worst years. My family was given the worst news anyone could ever be given - My mum had terminal cancer and had upto 18 months to live. She lived for 10 months since the diagnosis. I was her carer from 2010 and being a carer is stressful enough but I was actually being a carer for two people. My illness had really got bad. So bad that I just didn't give a crap about myself any longer and almost completely stopped bothering with myself just like before but it was worse this time. I would go to sleep really late then get up late. I would never take my diabetic meds. I would eat a lot of crap but usually one proper meal while trying to keep things together for my mum. I would never make myself look nice. And I had a problem with talking to myself which got steadily worse and now becomes uncontrolable when I am alone. A few months after mum died I lost nearly 2 and a half stone.

I moved back home to Rotherham in 2014. I was happier because I had my nan. I was referred to a gym through a place called RIO (Rotherham Institute of Obesity) I was on the waiting list for a second chance at weight loss surgery (I was meant to have it in 2014 but moved away first)I got to see a pyschiatrist,got put on the waiting list for a care co-ordinator for my mental health. Mind helped me with benefits and getting a flat closer to my nan. I was still fragile and still had thoughts of self harm but things were not as bad as before but guess what? Things was not to last. In 2017 nan died and I felt worse than ever. Especially with isolation and lonliness. I self harmed a few more times,attempted suicide by asphyxiation a few more times. I was also falsely accused,twice,of stealing money from my nan. This led to me feeling paranoid and insecure. And went further down into the black hole. But I was not the guilty person. I am usually a forgiving person, I can hold a grudge for a while then forget it but this? I will NEVER forgive the person (My own family) who did it, nor will I ever forget. In 2018 I finally moved back down South and a couple of months after moving I got a real job.

My depression was lifting and I could see clearly for the first time in years. But my mental health soon took over and it became too stressful and hard for me to cope with and in the end I broke down at work. I had just had enough and again I was struggling to want to motivate myself to do anything. I quit a few weeks later. I felt defeated. My hard work down the pan and for what? It was like 'Everything is going wrong for me. When is something ever just going to go RIGHT'? Then I was told that I have an eating disorder because I fessed up to binge eating when I had an assessment for bypass surgery so now I cannot proceed with surgery until my eating disorder is under control. Can you imagine how that felt? Being told you have an eating disorder. That chucked me even further under.

So there you are. Up to date on most of the crap I have had to endure in my life and the events that led me to become the person I am today. And I am still in a black hole where the black clouds keep coming. I am scared I will never get out. Did you see Holby City recently? Where Sacha tried to end his life by going up to the hospital roof and was saved by Ric but only after Ric had literally had a go at Sacha for a number of things and told Sacha everyone 'has a bad day' and to 'Pull yourself together and man up'. He wasn't very understanding at first. Even when Sacha told Ric about his earlier diagnosis of depression. It was only until he saw Sacha on the roof later on that Ric finally did the right thing and talked him down. Well I fight daily to stop myself from doing what Sacha tried to do and I am scared that one day I actually will be stood on a tall roof contemplating jumping - or once again considering any kind of suicide attempt.

Having depression is not like having a bad day. It is worse than that. Much,much worse. Having depression means you don't have the motivation to do anything. You can't get up out of bed because you just don't have the energy to do anything except sleep,you don't eat,you don't change your clothes or shower. Nothing. You feel so lonely and worthless and like you don't matter to anyone. You don't see a future for yourself. You find nothing in life enjoyable not even the things you loved doing. All you see is sadness. I have to fight daily to want to stay alive. To even exist. One wrong move,one careless comment from someone and it's back to square one for me. Because all that will be in my mind is 'OK That's it I am done. I am clearly one big screw up and I cannot take anymore'. I can never stop thinking about doing it unless I am actually doing something to take my mind off it or if I am with dad. Most of all, out of everything I have said I am scared that I have failed everything and everyone. I am scared I am a failure in life. I just wish I could stop feeling the way I do and stop wishing I was dead - but then I have been for over 10 years

Do you ever feel really lonely and alone? Like you have nobody in the world to talk to,no on gives a rats arse about you? Like everyone is better off without you? Yes. This is how I feel on a daily basis. I feel low and empty inside. I don't know how to be happy anymore. I tend to keep things bottled up and then I just erupt with all this pent up anger and emotions inside. I don't tell people how I really feel even though I should. This is what I meant about my heart being broken and my head being messed up to be ever completely fixed. I think the reason why I don't say anything is because I do not wish to be billed as a 'drama queen' or 'attention seeker' or 'weak' - but then being weak is exactly what I am. I cannot remember a time when I have ever felt strong - even when i have had to be strong. Like my mum and nan dying. I had to be strong but then inside I felt weaker than ever. I even self harmed the night before my mum died.

I hate it when people describe self harmers as 'Attention Seekers' - No we are NOT looking for attention! Many self harmers have their reasons for hurting themselves and so do I. I self harm because I want to release the pain that I feel inside by causing pain on the outside if that makes sense. When I self harm I do not want to kill myself. Just hurt myself. I only want to die when I am suicidal and have suicidal thoughts. I remember at times I didn't want anyone to see my cuts so I would wear long sleeved tops to hide them. I was clean from self harm from December 2017 until July when I harmed again. Clean for 7 months then I blew it! I just hope that one day soon I will feel strong enough and brave enough to admit my struggles to a real professional. Not just little fragments but everything including the bits I DIDN'T tell you and then I may well be on the road to recovery and finally get some real help. I have decided to do some things in life which is why I have written a bucket list. I want to be able to do things and create some goals like getting my depression under control, getting an agent or auditioning for drama school. I might have mental illness but I want to finally be someone who can get something RIGHT without it going wrong and without it defining me.
Thankyou for reading and I hope I haven't bored you.

P.S On a happier note. Since March 2018 I have gone from 21st 4lb to 19st 11lb. - 1st8lb. Not much but it's a loss.