An insight to my life.

A teenage girl who suffers from numerous Mental Health Issues.

Back again and an update.

Hello there!

I apologize for my lack of writing lately. My life has taken a massive turn for the worse and a lot of writing will be needed in order to catch everyone back up to date.

I shall start by listing events and then elaborating on them after.

1) I got a boyfriend.

2) Home went downhill and I ended up kicked out, alone and homeless.

3) I got a hostel.

4) I dropped out of education.

5) I got kicked out my hostel.

And here I am. Barely alive. Barely managing.

My anxiety has got worse. My depression has got worse. It has been an intense period of time.



Are my feelings invalid, wrong or do they just not mean anything?

I promised myself. I honestly did. I promised myself I wouldn’t fancy anyone. It’s a pity I couldn’t keep that and without my consent I fell for someone. However, this confused me greatly. 

Originally, my emotions were heading in all directions. This has just buried me deeper into depression. I can’t face leaving these four walls. The pure rejection which you feel near to your heart. That sunk feeling. It feels filthy and hollow. 

Repeatedly, at work we pass Waterloo Bridge in London. Without fail, my boss never forgets to remind me everyday people plunge their own bodies into the murky water and die within a matter of minutes. The thought circles my head throughout everything I do. Suicide. 

My hearts beating faster and the teardrops keeps flowing. I’ve neglected myself. I’ve let myself become like this. My, being naive, believed I found a human who was in sync with me. I felt we were in time, a few seconds off here or there but in time. I perceived him to have a gentle, understanding demeanour. Oh, I was wrong. 

He stated I ‘act the victim’ and this hit me. I shared with him my experiences and mental health casually. I expressed myself freely. Mistake.

A short amount of time yet me being vulnerable led to this unpredicted trust and these crazy feelings. The tingles I received when he spoke. The way our arms touched in bed sent me into a form of relaxation I haven’t felt in hell of a long period of time.

My chest keeps tightening, my brain feels like it’s swirling and my hands are continuously shaking. I don’t know how long I will last in this shadowed world nor am I particularly bothered.

Never trust. Never feel. Never love and never rely. 

I’ve learnt. Yet again. 



I have a date organised in my head.

I know when, how but no one will know why.


I haven’t wrote in a while merely because I was afraid.

Afraid I may bore any readers. I had a worrying belief that my writing wasn’t worthy enough to be posted. However, this is a blog. A blog where I wish to express how I feel. This is an update of how my life has slowly gone down hill.

Suicidal. Aren’t these thoughts amusing? They never fail to entertain me throughout my journey of life. Every breath I take, I question. I question my position in this world. What have I been placed on this world to achieve? Will I achieve anything whatsoever?I guarantee you my brain has been wired differently along with being abnormal compared to the majority of society. There must be a purpose to this. Or are we all just born to die? These questions float and flicker. The uncertainty of the paths I will encounter and the uncertainty of how mine [and others] lives will map out drives me to breaking point. All these unanswered questions are constantly popping into my head like a jack in the box. Sleeping for eternity sounds pretty pleasant to me. Is this wrong?

Recently, my ‘eating disorder’ has slithered it’s way into my soul. Its poisonous thoughts have been stored deep into my brain with no escape. The past three years I have suffered, mostly in silence. However, still suffered. In contrast, lately everything has plummeted. My weight has rapidly decreased and each day my body reminds me that it isn’t only the short-term effects which will occur. I’m not platitudinous nor simple-minded. I’m aware of my actions.

My life decisions are not in mine but my parents fingertips. They decide when hospital is necessary and when they request immediate help. It’s apparent I rarely will have a voice in these outcomes. If I make my words heard they get shut down before I can even finish my sentence.

[Images of my dramatic weight loss below. I do apologise if they are triggering]

On the other hand, for the past month I have been volunteering in a children’s centre. I currently work with 2/3 year olds. Their faces, their smiles and their innocence is what is keeping the breath in me. Their personalities give me a reason to wake up and they tire me out so much so they give me a reason to fall sound asleep.

I really appreciate any comments and questions I receive. It honestly motivates me and inspires me to keep on writing.

Thank you all for the support.


They absorb the letters of hatred from others and string together their own belief. I merely skim through the words to begin to realise that people don’t particularly like me.

Don’t get me wrong, people do like me. It’s not all gloom.

However, the minority of society feel as if me breathing is completely disgraceful and my life should be abruptly ended, asap. I sometimes agree with their remarks, comments and even contemplate going through with the commands they taunt me with.

If there is one thing I must learn in life is resilience. It is such an essential and key skill to have in order for you to survive the harsh brutality of this so called world. 

Humanity is clearly ruined and views, beliefs and morals are distorted beyond belief. You have to accept peoples opinions because like your own, they aren’t changed unless manipulated.

You have to learn to love yourself. Enjoy yourself for who you are. Regardless of your past. Regardless of what you’ve done or are doing to others. Then and only then will you be able to glimpse the road of happiness. 

The end.

I want it to be the end. The end of my existence. A fire of darkness has just burnt me, deep. The pools of my eyes swim across the acres of land which are barely skimming the surface of life. A sudden urge of suicide has lurked it’s way through the swamps of my body into my brain. My whole existence has revolved around others, I just want to sleep for eternity. The heavens peace is calling me away from the promiscuous environment I have engulfed myself with it will account for the palliative relief’s. 

The vindictive remarks are slowly digging me a grave, deeper and deeper. The constant reminder of being insufficient and inadequate ..something will always be amiss. 

I think it may be time to finish writing my last few pages and close the book, for good.

Bruised for life.

Once upon a time. . .

I lied about my age to an eighteen year old when I was twelve or thirteen and then again when I was fourteen – I told him I was sixteen I’ve always been more mature than my age. Events have happened which have ultimately enabled me to grow up quicker than most people. I had the mentality of a sixteen year old, I felt no harm in stating I was this age.

We dated. It was nice. I felt loved. Until the day he started to pin me against the wall and beat me. 

The first week or so was grand. We had a lovely time, alone. We spent hours smoking spliffs, enjoying the sun and talking about life. Our problems never mattered and we just felt at peace.

One warm day, I had to be home. I told him I had to leave, he wasn’t happy. He demanded me I had to stay, which I couldn’t. He pushed me against the wall, dug his large hands down, deep into my hip bone and told me I had to stay. Repeatedly, I told him I needed to go. He then reached for my collar bones, pushed them deeper into the wall, I was just glad he didn’t go for my neck. I looked into his eyes, pleading with him telepathically to stop. His eyes beamed a sense of evil which I never believe I could see in him. 

Several incidents like this took place. I finally realised I couldn’t take it much longer. After sleepless nights and weeks of coming up with excuses to my bruises – I had to get rid of him.

Dreading his reaction, my heart pumping and my whole world spinning. I told him we were over, for good. His facial expression looked confused. He had such a naive look to him that I was contemplating if I was in the wrong. I didn’t want to hear anything from him, I ran.

I ran all the way home and blocked any communication from him.

Surprisingly, we never bumped into each other. I never saw him, it was great. I found a new boyfriend, who I presumed I loved and everything was great. Until, me and my new boyfriend split up. My darling abusive ex somehow had heard the news and slithered his way back into my life. After days begging for another chance, I gave him one.

I was back with him. The abuse continued.

I once again, quicker this time, realised I had made a bad decision. I again, dumped him. This time, I didn’t run fast enough.

On hearing what I said he began to hug me, too hard that I couldn’t breathe. I told him to stop. He let me go and then once again, pushed me against the wall. I told him I wasn’t going to take this. I didn’t deserve it. I told him, I had to go. I pleaded and begged. He grabbed my wrist. I was struggling too hard, my wrist suddenly snapped. I felt the bone inside crumble and I couldn’t move. I froze and so did he. I told him that this time, he really needed to go. He did.

I went home crying, complaining how I had ‘fell down the stairs’ and my wrist hurt. I went to the hospital. It was, indeed, broken. 

I never have heard from him since. I’ve bumped into him a few times, my heart starts beating so hard that I think he could hear it but he doesn’t even dare look at me.

This explains a lot.

B x

Day off.

Tuesday 9th July, 2013.


Hi again,

I got a day off today. Anxiety levels are too high to even leave my bedroom. It’s just one of those days where even my kitchen brings me into a spiral of panic.

I love these official days off where I’m aloud to relax. Knowing I do not have to face the outside, don’t have to face the cunts called humans.

I’ve been receiving a lot of support already which I’m really shocked about. It’s a lovely feeling knowing I’m writing to people who can empathise and care, who genuinely seem to enjoy my writing.

I feel like I’m in a ball at the moment. I like this ball. The thought of the outside makes me panic and it just is such an uncomfortable thought right now.

I will be writing later in regards to some experiences I’ve had in the past. It should be interesting.

B x


8th July, 2013. 


I don’t feel like I just lived a day nor do I want to live another.

I feel as if this world which isn’t so big is against me. Every single member of it. They’re all part of a club who have decided to make my life hell – one way or another. My family, friends, peers and teachers never fail to make me feel suicidal. Ever.

I’ve been told to kill myself several times today if only they knew how this just confirmed my thoughts. The thought of sleeping forever seems so comforting, I believe I’m on the verge of breaking already. It’s been months and months, years and years.. I’ve always wanted to be dead. I will, one day. I can freely announce on here it’s pretty much definite that the cause of my death will be suicide. That’s weird, isn’t it?

I also got called chubby, now that’s a first! I didn’t really know how to process it as people tend to be still be concerned abut my weight due to my past of anorexia. No one has freely commented that I’m chubby. That was a reality shock. A few months starving won’t do no harm ,eh.


B x

Define Anxiety.


  1. A feeling of worry, nervousness, or unease, typically about an imminent event or something with an uncertain outcome.
  2. Desire to do something, typically accompanied by unease.


Anxiety a feeling of ‘worry’ ..Is worry another word for hell?

A spiral of never ending black which has a hint of suicide which can pop up any time. Anxiety. Ha! If only those ‘normal’ people could have a panic attack. Just once. I have to deal with them everyday. Luckily, after months and months of therapy I’ve adapted the majority of my panic attacks to become unnoticeable to the general public. It’s brilliant.

I’m freaking out. My visions blurred. My palms are sweating and I just want to get out. It’s funny how no one notices. It’s funny how my existence is ignored or un-seen. That’s London for you, anyway.

London. London is the worst place to suffer from Anxiety. Believe me.

The transport is packed, you’re constantly sniffing someones armpit or have your face squished against the glass door. There are too many unnecessary enclosed places, even parks! Argh.

Anxiety is hell. It’s not only the short term affects like panic attacks, it’s the long term which screws everyone over. It’s the way you come across. It’s the way you treat people. It’s the way no matter how hard you try you can never feel like anybody would ever love you for yourself. You’re always concerned there is someone better or you aren’t good enough for whatever you want.

Anxiety is that little voice which is constantly putting you down. It’s that voice in your head when you’re having a good day which reminds you that your life is shit. It’s the voice of the devil.

Anxiety limits you everyday, throughout the day. No matter where you are, what you’re doing or who you’re with. This little monster will be with you. It will nudge you to say that your boyfriend is cheating on you and will give you a quick reminder that you’re going to die old alone. It’s the voice that makes your whole life panic.

Anxiety will be the death of me.

B x