So happy I have my friends, and my family ❤
I work in a nursing home, and some people have no one.
These days, we care so little about other peope's lives, so wrapped up in our own gettingupworkingbuyingrelaxingworkinggettingdrunk.
Whenever I feel horribly depressed, like cant-get-out-of-bed-i-think-life-is-over depressed the ONLY thing that makes me feel better is helping someone else.
Not drinking.
Not cutting.
Not new, nice clothes or flawless make up…

be ok

be ok

just be ok.
i feel so lost.
thinking about myself makes me worse. what do i have to complain about? I’m selfish. Why do I have to start every question with I? Why can’t I be OK with being an alright kind of a person with a job and friends and get on with life?
Just be ok.
This is not like a black hole, it’s like Matilda’s chokey. the horrible thoughts are piercing my skin like knives on wrists or nails on the expanse of my stomach and thighs.
Scars rom before and stretch marks and whiteness where I should be tanned.
You’re looking for attention. Why can’t I tell my friends? I’ve pushed them away because I hate them knowing about the pain, I don’t deserve them, I don’t deserve to exist.
My stomach stretches and my body is bursting at the seams. Fat. Food, why is it the only thing that calms me. Or alcohol, blurring the jagged edges that pierce. I deserve nothing but this pain because I’m selfish and attention seeking and nothing.
Cutting because if I feel real pain the horribleness inside me is lessened, I deserve to feel this pain. i’m not good enough for anything or anyone.
Even reading this melodrama and knowing tomorrow I’ll feel disgust, why do I have to be like this?
Just be ok.

Coming Out

Still unsure as to how I feel about “coming out” about my mental health problems.. I know it won’t make me cool or win me any friends.. and surely it’ll contribute to my status of “eternally single”.. 

But what if it helps one person? To know that they’re not alone? I know I remember thinking that there couldn’t be anyone else that felt this way. Especially no one who was young, going to college, having the craic.. Anyway, yet to be seen.

survival: self-help <3

Suicide rates in young people are rising and more and more people are reportedly suffering from mental health issues. I’ve compiled an easy-to-read toolkit for anyone who’s feeling low, just from personal techniques I’ve gained through cognitive behavioural therapy…

Five things to do when you feel down:

  1. Write a list of everything you’re grateful for, I find this a great trick. I start with my family, friends, opportunities I’ve been given and things I like about myself and sometimes end up writing down anything that comes into my head (the bus being on time, a cancelled lecture, Harry Styles…)
  2. Have a shower or a bath; wash away your negative feelings. Staying in your PJs may seem like a good idea, but if you’re having negative thoughts sometimes the best thing to do is to get up and out of the house.
  3. TALK TO SOMEONE. Everybody has somebody they can talk to, and in the rare case you don’t, I’ve often sent an email to the Samaritans who mail back quickly with sound advice
  4. Exercising will make your body release endorphins. I’m one who becomes red and sweaty by the mere thought of the gym, but a walk with your dog or going out dancing count as well.


  1. Fake it ‘till you make it, I find that if I pretend to be happy and start smiling, soon enough I’ll forget the blues. As Justin Bieber says.. #believe

And a couple of things to avoid:

  1. Binge eating, or comfort eating to combat stress or loneliness. Commonly, people say you deserve to eating chocolate or pizza. Trust me, I was a size 18. Domino’s delivery man? Shouldn’t know you by name.
  2. Sigh.. Hate to be the bearer of “dry” news but drinking will make you feel worse. Alcohol is a depressant and although it may make you feel better for a while, the all consuming “fear” the next day will only make you feel worse (also may result in crying in the bathrooms of Coppers because you’ll never find “the one”).
  3. Haterz are always gonna hate. Do not dwellon other peoples issues! You is kind, you is smart, you is important…
  4. Social media can be a major trigger of depression.. Just bear in mind when your creeping that only fabulous pictures get uploaded, interesting statuses’ updated and that girls heads aren’t naturally that horizontal..
  5. At all costs, avoid impulsive behaviour that you’ve justified avoiding any impulsive behavior driven by any thoughts of “Why not,” “I deserve this,” “We’re settling this once and for all” or… *shudder “YOLO”.

Facebook Fishin’


“Passed my driving test- no more L-plates!”

“Degree in the bag hashtag heart symbol”

“Out with me girlos for drinks xoxo”

.. sometimes accompanied by a pouting picture, it’s hard to avoid the like fishing Facebook status.. but who can blame us? We want to share our accomplishments with our friends and family and for the Apple generation Facebook is the quickest way..

I may sound like a scathing hipster, refusing to partake in this degrading facade- far from it! I fully admit to being a newsfeed fiend, a Facebook fanatic.. If I’m feeling rotten and rejected I’ll change my profile pic.. some fake tanned, fake eyelashed and seven pound lighter version of myself. If I’m feeling low I’ll update something witty or inspiring, watching the likes roll in to validate the fact that PHEW, you do have friends.

It’s easy to feel that everyone’s constantly jetting off, passing exams and looking flawless but take heed- your real mates are the ones that are likely to boycott liking your attention seeking selfles and instead private message to tell you to stop clogging up their news feeds because they’re TRYING to enjoy a well earned creep



I’ve never admitted to hating before. I love life. I believe that it’s the “haterz” that “gon’ hate”. I believe that you should “be who you are and say what you feel…”.  I smile. I believe.  I love.

But sometimes I’m overwhelmed by my emotions and the struggles of this Borderline Personality Disorder. Sometimes I feel so much that I want to explode from my euphoric joy, intense rage or devastating sadness. Sometimes I hate.

I hate the term ‘personality disorder’. I hate the way it makes me feel as though there’s something fundamentally wrong with me, that I’ll never fix. I hate not knowing who I am, what I stand for. I hate not knowing what is part of me and what’s just a symptom of this sickness.

I hate it when people don’t know about my illness and they mistake my clinginess and desperation for attention seeking superficiality.

I hate sometimes waking up and wanting to die, being so disgusted with myself that I want to tear off all my skin or blink my eyes and become somebody, anybody else.

I hate cutting, I hate scratching, I hate the fact that sometimes the only way I can keep from screaming is by digging my nails into my palm and biting my lip until it bleeds.

I hate waking up and falling asleep thinking about food, about weight and about the curves and bumps of my body. I hate knowing how little my appearance should matter and still letting it rule my life.

I hate having to be the best, always wanting to be the prettiest and the smartest,  I hate my insane jealousy and not being O.K with just “me”.

I hate that I’m so dependent on anyone that’s close to me. I hate that I find it so hard to let anyone in, that I push people away and float from group to group, hoping no one will notice my erratic moods and eccentric behaviour.

I hate starting every sentence with “I”. I hate being obsessed with myself to the point that I can’t tell if I’m in love, or seeking approval, or just wanting to feel pretty.

I hate myself. And I hate pretending that everything is OK.

Food: The Most Addictive Drug There Is

Food is my enemy. Food is my friend. 

I eat to comfort myself, I starve to prove that I’m worth something. 

I’ve been a size 16 and a size 8.

I know how it feels to be the girl that boys laugh at, and the girl that boys want..

Food rules my life and I am addicted.

It is my first thought waking and my last thought going to bed…

I have an eating disorder that destroys me, that prevents me from having a normal life, yet I’m “OK”.. I’m OK because I look OK..


catching crazy

Having a mental health problem is like having a sickness that you constantly have to defend, like living with a monster that no one else believes in..

Living with the struggles of this illness is hard enough, but it’s intensified by the stigma and the shame.

On a few occasions I’ve confided in somebody other than family about my struggles with Borderline Personality Disorder and Bulimia. Generally, the responses fall into three categories..

1) Run away, far away, this kid’s crazy and crazy is contagious..

2) “Yeah, ok, babe..” *attention seeker*.. “Like, how can you be bulimic.. you’re not even skinny?”

and, finally,

3) Those few beautiful, beautiful friends who love me for me. Who know all I need is a text sometimes, and a smile, and to know that they’re there…Image