Monday, 25 June 2018


Hello Reader, I'm Liv.

I have a good life, I have an amazing family.
I have a dog called Ronnie who makes my life seem complete.
But there's one thing.

I'm suicidal.

I don't want to die but I guess I don't really want to exist either. 
I sometimes dread waking up because I have to do the same stuff I did yesterday and the day before and the day before that and the day before that etc. 
I feel a certain dread that can only be described as when you're about to cry and you feel that HUGE lump in your throat? But it never goes away, no matter how many times you cry, it doesn't just go. 

Wanting to tell someone, just anyone but knowing they just won't understand and they'll dismiss it which would make you feel even worse so you don't talk. You don't tell anyone. 
You act and pretend like everything's okay until it gets to night time and you feel so alone. 
And it's unbelievably lonely. 

I feel incredibly lonely more than I care to admit, I hide alot of my feelings because I don't want anybody to bother trying to understand because people just don't get it, it always gets dismissed and I don't want to allow myself to be vulnerable if I'm just gonna feel disheartened about it.

But, even feeling like this I'm still a great person. 
I just want to feel something, something more than this. 

I just want to be understood.
I just want to be okay. 

L x

Friday, 15 June 2018

- feelings after my inner demon -

It's been a while since I was at my worst with anorexia, it's been a LONG and extremely hard journey but it isn't over..

When I first suffered, I automatically thought my life was over. I had no hope, everything was just bleak. 
 I continued to fight.. I've battled anxiety, I've fought depression but my eating disorder was possibly my hardest opponent. 
If any of you have seen Harry Potter I'd describe anorexia as Dementors, soul sucking disorders that test you every single minute of the day and quite frankly its exhausting.

I guess this also contributes to the few reasons on why I haven't written a post recently, it's extremely scary putting your most vulnerable feelings out there for everyone to see. It's really quite nerve wracking allowing yourself to be vulnerable and letting people know indirectly what's really going round in your head.

Everybody assumes the hardest part of any eating disorder is the eating disorder itself, in my case it was Anorexia Nervosa. 

In my experience the hardest part is the recovery. Obviously if you've read some of my other posts then you'll know why I developed anorexia and if you haven't read it I got really badly bullied, and I felt so out of control and my eating was the only thing I could really control in my life and I no longer wanted to feel powerless so I took the power and with me doing that I developed Anorexia. 
Years after I first got told I was now in recovery I still struggle. 

I struggle more than I care to admit really.
Some days I know I'm the bomb, I feel confident and wicked etc but on them bad days I feel like I'd rather not exist at all and to be honest I could be having the best day and out of nowhere I'll just feel really fucking sad. I can't even try and explain the reasoning behind why I'm either super super happy or excruciatingly sad, I don't know myself so I can't even begin to get anyone else to know me.

I can't imagine suffering with any mental illness/and an eating disorder and having nobody around me as a support system. Because quite frankly for example, anxiety and depression are both extremely isolating. You could be in a room full of people and they could be all laughing having a great time yet you feel so lonely and your stuck in your head 24/7.
Fortunately for me, I have an amazing support system around me but many many people aren't that lucky and that's why people write.
That's why blogs similar to mine are created, it's why people have social media accounts dedicated to just letting their truths be known. Letting people into their heads without being not anonymous.

It does get better. It gets incredibly better, I might still have ridiculously bad days but that's why I cherish the good days. I cherish them so when shit gets bad I still have some light behind the darkness.

But right now, I'm happy. Really happy, happier than I thought I'd ever be and I just want to let anybody struggling who may read this that there is a light at the end of the tunnel.
There's always light in the darkness, you've just got to be willing to find it.
And I've found my light and I hope you all do too.

L x

Wednesday, 11 April 2018

- travelling with J -

on Saturday the 7th of April i went to see Harry Styles, and let me just explain things a lil bit..

whenever i have to go on trains or be somewhere i'll wake up like 6 hours early, i'll have at least 10 alarms set for 5 am and i'll spend the first half hour thinking of the worst possible scenario and get myself into a panic. 
i'll have a shower, but during that shower i'll have an anxiety attack and cry then get out and act like nothing happened then i'll start to get ready and whatnot.

the thing about mental illness though, is that is doesn't just go away. 
no matter how excited/happy you should be, you're still thinking of the worst possible outcome, you're still feeling all the physical symptoms of anxiety, needing to nervous pee, 
feeling like you're gonna puke, headaches, shaking, dry throat.

eventually after all like decades of walking, we made it to the hotel which was swanky as hell!!!
and after i'd done my make up again, we were ready to go eat and then see Harry Styles!
we couldn't eat because the queues were ridiculously long and the waiting times were crazy so we would have missed the concert so we went to the hotel bar instead..
in the moment, i weren't this anxious depressed ridden woman, i wasn't this woman that struggled with shit.
we were just the happiest people in the world and we were waiting to see my favourite artist, the person who's music i play 24/7 which he sings along with me and the majority of the time he doesn't complain.

oh, we drank rum cocktails and i felt AMAZING.

by the time we got to the arena, i was incredibly panicky, my heart kept racing and i felt like i was gonna puke all over myself (thankfully, i didn't) but anyway, we found our seats and we were crazy close to the stage and i couldn't believe i was gonna see him IN THE FLESH finally!!!!!
after all the build up from my birthday, it was finally here and in no way shape or form was i going to let anxiety or depression ruin this for me. 
i was not prepared to let it be ruined over that.

he was finally out here, in the flesh.
he was right in front of my eyes and i couldn't believe it, after so long of looking through instagram videos/pictures, after scrolling through his fan pages for months and months, he was here. 
and it was me that was finally taking pictures and videos of him.
i had this lump in my throat, i wanted to cry..
i was in an arena that held 15,683 and every single seat was taken. for a woman that often panics about leaving my house this was an achievement. 

i couldn't stop shaking, in that exact moment i felt free. 
free from everything that's made me feel like a burden to the people around me.
i feel happiness but not the happiness that goes away as quick as a click of a finger, but the happiness that's stayed and even now it being a memory it still makes me incredibly happy. 

although the day after and just laying down on the bed, i felt mentally exhausted. i was so drained after being so anxious, after having barely any sleep, i just wanted to not be so tense. 
i'd had a bad belly after my stomach being in knots for days, and i still couldn't actually relax.

the thing about mental illness is when you feel like you're at the bottom of the barrel, you feel hopeless, like you've got absolutely nothing going for you. 
you feel like you're this fragile delicate little thing that people just give pity, you have your defenses sky high no matter what.

you feel like you're stuck in this downward spiral and there's no escape from the darkness, from the constant overthinking, from the constant doubt but you are more than that. 
you are more than  how you feel, you are more than mental illness. 
no matter how low and how truly awful you feel, you've all got alot more going for you than any of you realise.

and lastly, never underestimate yourself.

YOU are powerful

YOU are strong

YOU are brave

L x


Monday, 26 March 2018

- the dangers of being misunderstood -

i've written this blog for about 3 years(ish) now and throughout it all people have come and waltzed straight out of my life, and that's because people don't understand. 
people don't understand the severity of mental illness, the day to day life with anxiety and depression. 
nobody see's the challenges, the breaking down 20 minutes before i have to go out, the crying the night before before i'm trying so hard not to just puke everywhere because my heads telling me somethings going to go wrong. 

so let me TRY and help you understand my personal struggles..

first of all, i'm not shy. i'm socially anxious, i tend to stay quiet because i'm so afraid of saying the wrong thing, or to be misunderstood. ironically. 
i always without doubt use my phone as a crutch, if i'm in a situation where it's a room full of people i always reach for my phone, not that i get any messages but i play these dumb little games on my phone and eventually i'll feel like the world has decided to stop swallowing me whole. 
i personally feel like there's only one or two people in this world that actually understand me and it isn't because people don't try because they do but once they've assumed there's nothing else to understand they stop trying, they in my eyes give up trying. 
people romanticize depression and anxiety, like the amount of times i've heard someone say 
''i just want to make you better'', ''i just want to help fix this.'' 
and honestly, you want to help fix me? am i broken in your eyes then? 

i'm not some piece of glass you can just glue back together, i'm not some broken fragile mess. 
i genuinely can't explain my frustrations when people say this because i don't portray myself as broken, i don't allow them to see me vulnerably just for them to assume i'm broken. 
i'm severely depressed, there's a difference. 
i'm on antidepressants to ''fix'' me, i don't need someone being romantically involved with me if that's all they see.

i think about suicide alot, but that doesn't mean when the going gets tough i'm just going to do that. 
purely for the fact it takes an incredibly strong person to actually do that and i know for a fact i'm not strong enough. 
i have hope, i always expect the worst but i hope for the best. 

i don't entirely believe in religion but when i'm at my worst, i pray. i don't pray to a God which sounds dumb but i always reach out for the help, i'll reach out to my Grandad.
i didn't get to meet him when i got old enough to remember him but i've seen pictures and when i'm breaking down, my face is swollen from all the crying, i want him to take my pain away. 
i get how dumb it sounds but when you're at your absolute lowest you just want someone to take that pain away and yeah. 

i'm anxious, anxious as hell. yet people can't understand why sometimes i can just force myself to do certain things like get on trains, go outside of my house, go to someone else's house etc. 
i have anxiety attacks about doing all of that though, i always have to wake up like 6 hours earlier because i always think maybe i'm gonna miss my train, maybe i'm gonna get lost. 
i can put myself in these situations because i'm so scared everyone will think differently of me.

if i didn't have some kinda hope, i wouldn't be here. 
i just want someone to not give up on trying, mental illness is a complex thing but when the person suffering loves you and just wants you to listen without them having to comfort you because again, you didn't like what they said is alot worse. 
i always try to be silent about my struggles, i always try to keep everything to myself and that's more unhealthy than i like to admit. 

so please, if you or someone you know suffers with mental illness of any kind, just listen. don't talk, don't try to comfort them, just let them get everything out, even if that means them ending up sobbing their hearts out, let them. 
for someone to allow themselves to be vulnerable in front of you, that shows they trust you, they respect you and they just want someone to finally listen because they're so used to people giving up. 
prove them wrong, prove to them you won't just get up and leave after they've said everything, prove to them you're actually different to everyone else. 

L x

Tuesday, 13 March 2018

- Antidepressants -

 antidepressants are quite scary. 
for me personally anyway, it was at the most pivotal moment when i decided i needed to be on them.

i'd had a rough day, i'd ended up crying over something and it was crying to the point of not being able to breathe, i'd built up all these feelings and i'd bottle it up every single time so when i did eventually just breakdown, i BROKE down. 
to the point where i just couldn't stop crying, no real reason but i just couldn't stop and i needed help. 

and that's me in a nutshell, i bottle everything up and so i'm just a ticking time bomb of tears ready to happen. 
i didn't wanna be on antidepressants not because of the stigma around them but because they make you put weight on and if you've previously read any of my other posts you'll know that's something i absolutely dread. so after a while i just stopped taking them because i was scared of getting sick again. 

and then it'd happen over and over again until i felt like i was finally stable enough in my recovery of anorexia that i could put weight on without it being the end of the world, so i decided to give antidepressants another go. 
it took me ages to finally find the pill right for me, some had lactose in and i'm allergic, some made me see things that weren't there, some just generally made me feel worse and then the 'magic pill' came along. 

it finally felt like a weight off my shoulders, i personally began to feel like a lost cause and that nothing was ever going to help but it has. 
don't get me wrong, it's taken since my early teens to now to actually find something that works and is effective. i remember being so against pills not for anyone else but for me because i know pills do work but it takes time for them to actually work and you've got to be patient and know that pills aren't just a quick fix like some may think. 

i still on occasion have my little breakdowns but that's just because i absolutely hate talking about my feelings, i absolutely hate being vulnerable to anyone and i guess sometimes my own feelings scare me. 
anxiety, depression and my eating disorder they all still have their voices very prominent in my mind, on a bad day it could go from 0 - 100 real damn quick but i'm learning how to keep them at the back of my mind because i know damn well they aren't just going to leave. 

i'm the one that's in control and you've always got to think about what's the best possible solution for you, whether it be counselling or medication or something completely different. there's always a solution and you'll always find it no matter how long it takes. 

L x

Thursday, 1 March 2018

- anxiety + depression -

on a daily basis these two rule my life.
anxiety -
i overthink absolutely everything, i struggle to join into conversations over fear of saying the wrong thing, i get shaky and nervous over scenarios i've created in my own head.
i can barely make eye contact with you unless i'm ridiculously comfortable with you, anxiety gives me this huge fear of everything and it makes me second guess people that truly i shouldn't.
everything matters no matter how small or minuscule it seems to others.

depression -
exhaustion. loss of hope. it's like drowning except you can see everyone around you breathing.
it's like swimming with rocks on your back, sinking trying to get above water, but every time you try and reach for that light above the water you sink further and fall harder every single damn time.

but living with both?

i'm being torn in different directions every day, it's like having an angel and the devil on each shoulder. it's wanting to do something, just getting out of the same old scenery but not having the strength to go shower, put clothes on and actually leave.
But when I do go out it's all of the physical symptoms of anxiety that present themselves, it's the stuff nobody likes to talk about..
getting the shakes, heartbeat going faster than it should, feeling like you could pass out any second, the feeling that your entire tummy is in one big knot getting tighter and tighter and lastly the nervous pee's and poop's..

And the worst thing about anxiety is the fact it could be the smallest of issues that make you feel anxious as hell, on a good day i can will myself out of bed, get ready etc and usually shit won't phase me as much as it would when i'm having a bad day.
the thing that makes me anxious etc could be a recent thing or something from years ago, it could be the most insignificant thing to happen YET i'll still spend hours to days overthinking every possible thing i did or said wrong.

i can go from being really happy one minute then i'll think about something and overthink it and change my mood within the space of 0.2 seconds. i can be my own worst enemy and it's genuinely fucking awful.
my own self doubt and my own 'trust' issues i guess constantly niggle at me every single day, it's like my head is already waiting for shit to go bad just so i can be like ''i told you so'', and then i put my barriers and defenses back up, time and time again.

- suicide -
it's something that used to be in my head constantly, should i? what if? what would happen? i'd spend hours and hours just thinking about it but i knew i could never act on it. i physically wanted more.
i wanted more than this.
i'd be having a really bad day and with them kinda days the feeling of nothingness, numbness and just nothing.
i'd be numb to the feelings, i couldn't laugh, be sad or whatever and getting to a point where you just wake up and look at the ceiling until it's time to close your eyes again and do it all over the next day that really fucking sucked.

i starved myself, i wanted control and at that time in my life i couldn't control anything so i found the next best thing. my eating.
obviously i rarely do that now but it all ties in, it all goes hand in hand together and honestly i think it makes an impact to this post anyway..

i suffer with anxiety and depression.
but there's more to me than mental illness.
right now though, 
i'm a beautiful young woman that struggles daily but has never given up, i've shown time and time again that i'm a fighter and it's never been in my nature to give up on myself or the people i love. 
self love and self care can be two of the most important things when you're struggling. 
i have some really really amazing people in my life and there's people that have never ever given up on me no matter how hard i get and for that i'l always be eternally grateful.

Remind yourself every single damn day that you're the baddest bitch, you're the Queen or King and you can conquer absolutely anything and if you tell yourself that enough then eventually you'll have that mindset. 

L x

Monday, 5 February 2018

MURDERERS: Andrea Yates - Mental Health Series -

Before anyone says anything, I'm not condoning anything this woman did. 
Being mentally ill is no excuse for the tragic incident that happened and quite frankly it's a genuine tragedy. 


First of all, let's give you an insight into her history..
She had a deep battle with bulimia and she'd suffered quite severely with depression also, by the age of 17 she was talking to her friends about suicide, so that shows just where her mind was at. 
In school she was the class valedictorian, captain of the swim team AND an officer in the national honor society, so she seemingly had ALOT of things going for her at that time despite her mental health issues.

In the summer of 1989 she met Russell 'Rusty' Yates, they later went on to marry in April 1993.
They announced to friends and family ''they would seek to have as many babies as nature allowed.''
They appeared to be the perfect couple until after the birth of her fourth child Luke. 
She became severely depressed and on June 16th 1999, 'Rusty' found her shaking and chewing her fingers.
The next day she attempted to commit suicide by overdosing on pills, she later got admitted to hospital and prescribed antidepressants. In my opinion I'd say at this point in her life this is where the beginning of her psychosis started..

Soon after she got released she begged 'Rusty' to let her die as she held a knife up to her neck. 
Once again she got hospitalized and was put on a cocktail of medications including Haldol, also she was taking 450 milligrams of Effexor.
If you don't know what Haldol is, it's an antipsychotic drug that decreases excitement in the brain. It's used to treat psychotic disorders like schizophrenia, to control motor (movement) and verbal (for example, Tourette's syndrome) tics and is used to treat severe behaviour problems in children. 
Her condition improved almost immediately whilst taking Haldol and on her release she was prescribed this drug, she appeared to be temporarily stabilized. 
Although Rusty thought she was ''severely over medicated.''

In July 1999, she suffered a nervous breakdown, two failed suicide attempts and two psychiatric hospitalizations later and she finally gets diagnosed with postpartum psychosis. 
Her psychiatrist urged her and 'Rusty' not to have anymore children because it would guarantee future psychotic depression.

Now before we continue, let's just learn a little bit about her husband..
He was a very religious man, he believed a woman's only/sole purpose was childbearing.
He soon introduced his wife to these misguided views of Christianity.
He believed in the 'dark side' of religion.
Some of the ideas espoused by the likes of Russell Yates and his ''spiritual advisor'' are just plain false. 
But the bottom line of the belief system goes like this..
World bad. Only some Christians with special knowledge good. 
Men rule. Women submit. Have babies. Stay removed from the world's decay. 

Andrea herself was already mentally unstable which would have helped him manipulate his wife into believing this.
So, whilst Andrea was struggling she continued to have children and in March 2000 she stopped taking Haldol. Against her psychiatrists advice, she was warned it would help her uncontrollable actions and she'd improve but she decided against that. On the 30th November 2000, she gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, Mary.

The death of her father. 
The death of a loved one, the grief, the heartache, the pain.
That affects anyone but someone that's got a history of mental illness and just straight up not being able to cope.
March 12th 2001, a father she adored, she didn't know how to cope and control her emotions or even grieve properly. 
Grief stricken she started to harm herself and not feed her youngest baby.

This was the stressor for the terrible and truly distressing events that later occurred.
This was just the beginning..
Whilst she was previously in group therapy, she'd called herself  'Andrea Depression', Rusty kept thinking that she was the sickest person in the room.

Once again she got hospitalized until the insurance ran out even though everyone could see and knew she was still very very sick.
According to 'Rusty' Yates.. 
''The nurses lowered their heads in shame and embarrassment, and turned to walk away without saying a word, knowing that Andrea was too sick to be released. They couldn't do anything else, Rusty understood, because the ten day insurance stay had run out, so he took his wife home.''

One month after she was released Rusty left her alone with the five kids, he left her alone with them for one hour and in that hour, she drowned her children one by one.
Rusty has previously said he believes all Andrea needed was to not be babied and get a reality check. 

She desperately needed help and personally because of the help she failed to receive she was really just a  ticking time bomb. 
I think nurses/doctors have a responsibility, they have a duty of care and in this case, insurance is more important than a mentally unstable woman with five children.

She currently lives in a minimum security facility and says she grieves for her children every single day and Rusty got remarried.

L x