Saturday, 6 April 2013

F*ck it.

Modern day life is busy - really busy. No wonder everyone's so stressed out with all the stuff we are expected to fit into a day. I, for one, have decided that enough is enough. I am signing on for a new life of Fuck It, a fantastic book my sister bought me for Christmas. It is described as the 'ultimate spiritual way', which sounds pretty good if you ask me. If you can fuck life and still get into heaven I say that's a win-win sort of situation.
The word fuck may seem somewhat extreme in this context. It sounds negative and aggressive but really it's just another word.
I am going to use the word fuck in a positive way here, and using it will free me from the constraints of social expectations and general irritating politeness. I will dare to be different and dare to live life on the edge, using frowned-upon words and not doing what people expect. I will live my life for me, not for anyone else. Yes, that's right, I'm going to be a selfish bitch.
I'm sorry if this doesn't suit you. In fact fuck it, I'm not sorry. Not one bit.
The whole idea is that nothing really matters. Take a moment to think about this.
That thing that you were supposed to do, but you didn't, doesn't matter. The thing that you weren't supposed to do, but you did anyway, doesn't matter.
What does matter is getting on and not worrying about the fact that it does or doesn't matter. Fuck the system. Fuck life. Fuck everything.
I've never really appreciated what life is all about until I took a step back and saw it from the outside. Life is about living, not worrying about living - something I do a lot of. I've spent months now debating my life and what it means and why I'm living it instead of getting out there and enjoying it.
So finally I feel at peace. All because I turned around and said fuck you life, I'm not gonna dwell on you anymore.
I have decided to do what I want, and what I want is to live. I really do. All those thoughts about not living were stupid and wrong. What a waste of time that was.
I did feel angry at myself for wasting all that time but then I thought: fuck it.
No anger. Fuck that.
Then I felt sort of empty and silly for it. Then I thought: fuck that as well.
All in all a successful turn of events, I think.
So my advice to you out there is to turn around, look life in the face and say: fuck you.
Trust me, it feels good. 

Saturday, 30 March 2013

Zombie Girl

Anti-depressants don't make you happy and they don't stop you being sad. They sort of dull everything down a bit, so every feeling isn't as extreme. So arguably, you won't be severely depressed, but on the other hand you won't ever be really happy either.
I call this zombiefying: medicines answer to depression. Instead of having a depressed population, let's make them all numb and empty and non-feeling-y.
OK, I'm being quite harsh. I suppose not feeling is better than feeling awful. But it's so frustrating when you really want to feel something and you just can't.
I feel like I'm cut off or separate from reality, trapped in a bubble which I just can't pop.
I've decided that enough is enough. I give up on the medication. I'm coming off all of it: the anti-depressants, the beta blockers and the anti-psychotics. I hope this will be a good thing. A way for me to slowly get my life back.
I've been on these meds since July 2012. This probably means that I am dependant on them, even if I don't feel it. I wish I had known then what they would do to me, because I probably would have never started taking them.
For now I'm on a half dose of everything. Next week that will hopefully be reduced again.
Until then I'm still zombie girl. The girl with no feelings, no emotions and heaps of bad days.
My advice to anyone considering going on anti-depressants or anti-psychotics: don't. Not until you know the full story.
Are you prepared to deal with the side effects?
I wasn't.
My stomach might be permenantly damaged, and I might get severe withdrawal symptoms, when I eventually come of the meds completely. Currently I suffer from zombie-ing, suicidal thoughts, anxiety, weight gain, no sex drive, sweating and a seriously dodgy digestive system.
These are arguably all side effects of the medication. Which sucks - big time.
Furthermore, if I don't actually have depression, then the medication will make whatever I do have even worse. So why was I ever put on them? Surely it would have been safer to diagnose me first.
Anyway, my rant is over. I'm coming off them. Let's see what happens.

Friday, 29 March 2013


I haven't blogged since December. That's quite a while considering it's now practically April. Three long months of no news for my readers...if you actually exist, that is. I'm not going to go into a long list of excuses for this, nor am I going to apologise.
But, I will explain.
At first I blamed it on writers block - how wrong I was. Little did I know in December that the coming months would be the most challenging of my life - and yes, I do mean even more challenging than A-levels or puberty or your first crush!
I entered the tunnel.
Sounds ominous, doesn't it? It was. And it still is. The tunnel is another of my metaphors, designed to make my illness more understandable to people who haven't experienced it. They're also a way for me to figure out what the fudge is going on in my brain too. This ominous tunnel is an epiphany I had literally five minutes ago before I started writing this new blog. The thing about tunnels is that when you enter them, you don't necessarily know when they're going to end. You might not even be able to see the light at the other end.
There are short tunnels, long tunnels, small tunnels, big tunnels, circular, square, get the point. There are a lot of tunnels.
The tunnel I am in has no particular shape or size or anything like that. All I know is that I've been stuck in it for quite a while, and I'm really sick of it.
I feel trapped and suffocated by the walls, as if I'm too big or the tunnel is too small.
It's also an uphill journey through my tunnel, which is exhausting.There are no lights anywhere. I'm blind, feeling my way through, tripping and falling. Progress is slow - very slow.
My tunnel was, and is, all in my mind.
I don't know if I'm out of the tunnel, because there is no light in it, before it, or at the end of it. Everything is dark. I want to be out of the tunnel, believe me. I am desperate to be free of it but there's nothing to indicate whether I am or not.
I'm stuck in a hopeless rut. And the worst thing is that I'm slowly starting to just accept it. I'm worn out and I'm running out of energy to fight. The harder I struggle, the harder it is to carry on.
Yet, somewhere, be it at end of the tunnel, or in the tunnel, or just in my imagination, a tiny pinprick of light has appeared. And I am grasping onto it for dear life. I know I can't give up. That would be not only be a waste, but it would be an insult to life itself, which I know can be a wonderful thing.
I remember what it's like to not be in the tunnel, and it is amazing. I think that memory is my pinprick. It's strange because people always say look forward in life, but for me and for now, I'm looking back. That's what's keeping me going.
As for the tunnel, I hope I get through it.
At least I know I'm not alone. I have the best friends and family to support me and be with me every step of the way. As for the rest of you, just knowing you'll be there on the other side is enough. See you there.

Wednesday, 26 December 2012


Do you know what it's like to balance on top of a huge stack of carefully balanced scaffolding, which isn't really attached to anything and is dangerously wobbly, trying not to move too much in case you fall?
I do.
I live my life like this.
It's completely my fault of course, because I'm the one who built this dangerous structure. I'm balancing on a variety of different coping mechanisms, trying not to let them fail which could potentially send me over the edge.
It's a weird sort of place to be, on the edge of whatever you want to call it: sanity, normality, whatever. It's difficult to describe, but I'll do my best.
I feel unsteady, like I'm walking along on the edge of the kerb, like when you were a kid, balancing one foot precariously in front of the other as you tried to show off your impressive balancing skills. You have a knot in your stomach, because you know you're going to fall off at some point, and every now and then you have a serious wobble which makes your stomach leap up to your throat and back down again. It's fun, but it feels dangerous (probably due to then fast-moving traffic right next to you).
The feeling of being on that kerb isn't really all that pleasant, when you think about it, though for some reason you're still having fun - probably because of the adrenaline. It's normally seen as a good thing, adrenaline, but for me it's a problem because I react negatively to it. When I feel nervous and get that adrenaline rush we all get when we're nervous, I don't get a bit excited, I get anxious, and it builds until its out of control.
That's where the scaffolding comes in. Over time, I have built structures to try and cope with my negative reactions to adrenaline. Unfortunately, they have all proved unsuccessful and have lead to a complex build up of bad coping mechanisms. I am still trying to find a way to cope, using relaxation techniques, medication and hypnotherapy. So far, no good. I sit atop my pile of what I will bluntly refer to as crap, feeling pretty much, well, crap.
It's like, as I've said, being on edge. You feel nervous, with a tight chest and quickened breathing, which makes day-to-day activities difficult, like going out or seeing people. You don't want people to notice and leaving the safety of your home is a daunting prospect. It's a bit embarrassing, because you are literally shaking, which is just plain weird to be quite frank.
This can only be described as anxiety, which is something I struggle with daily. I've likened it to standing on a large unsteady structure, which is scaffolding in my mind. Just imagine being trapped up there alone, with no way down except to jump. Scary stuff, eh?
To make things worse, I am aware that the structure is not stable and it will eventually collapse and I will fall. It's not made of sturdy metal poles and planks of wood like normal scaffolding, it's made of all the things that I haven't dealt with in life, which have collected in a pile of wibbly-wobbly-shitty-crappy mess which will get on top of me eventually.
I can't be sure when this will happen, but I know it will.
All I can do is hope that when it does, there will be something there to catch me. It could be me, if I ever find a way to cope, but if not then maybe someone will be there. Any takers?

Monday, 24 December 2012


Christmas is a time to be happy and jolly and merry and all that stuff. A time with your family and friends, to eat and enjoy yourself. And that's exactly what I'm going to do. I deserve it.
To anyone out there reading, have a great Christmas because you probably deserve it too.
Merry Christmas everyone!

Sunday, 23 December 2012


We all have to make decisions, both big and small: what brand of laundry detergent shall I buy, what university shall I apply for, shall I propose, and the list goes on. Some people are naturally decisive, quickly determining their answer to all questions and some people are so indecisive that they actively avoid having to make important decisions. But for the most of us, we are in the middle, finding just a few of the most important decisions a challenge and generally coping with the day-to-day decisions that life throws at us.
For me, it depends on the day. Some days are good for decisions and some days aren't so good. On the good days I try to do as much as I possibly can while I can.
It's annoying to say the least.
I wish I could say that I would be fine everyday but I simply can't.
More recently the decisions I have to make have become more important and this has made it all the more challenging. Big decisions are always going to come around someday because life is like a winding path with forks and crossroads which lead in many different directions. Our choices lead us down trickier paths, blocked by thorns or up steep hills and some might take you on a smoother and easier path.
For me I'm at a very important crossroads. The path I choose will be a final and very life-shaping one. To make it all the more difficult the sign is all worn and I can't read the options for each direction. Once I've made my decision and chosen a path, there's no going back. And every path is uphill and uneven. That much I do know.
The weird thing is that I'm not that fussed about the challenges ahead. Maybe it's because I don't have a choice or maybe I've forgotten how to care about anything. Either way I feel like I'm just floating along, waiting for something to happen, but it never does.

I've put a break in the text there for a reason. I've completely lost what direction I was heading in with my writing. Just like I have in my life at the minute. I feel lost and floaty and sort of useless. And I can't seem to shape the words for this post either. So for now I have to stop, take a break and just be. As they say, let the chips fall where they may.

Friday, 21 December 2012

The End of the World

Today is the alleged apocalypse.
So far there have been no signs of this. All seems normal.
Last night I dreamed I was part of an indigenous tribe in some unknown but tree-filled country. We live in a treehouse suspended on one singular rope, which was a very delicate setup and it was clear that we could fall at any time. We were under attack from an outside force, who threatened to destroy our civilisation. We rallied our troops and armed with bows and arrows, we fought to protect our home.
We won.
I like to think that this is somewhat of a mini prediction of my own. It just seems too unfair to end the world before Christmas, my favourite time of year.
Besides, negative thinking isn't going to get you anywhere - trust me.
But for a little while, for me until a bit further on in this post, let's imagine what the 'end of the world' might bring.
Disaster is the first thing we think of, usually of the natural kind like earthquakes and volcanoes. A vision of fire and smoke if typical of an apocalyptic scene.
Then we imagine the breakdown of civilisation as people rebel against systems in order to survive.
After this we imagine survivors and how they struggle and fight to keep their lives.
But who's to say that this traditional apocalypse is the one we'll get?
Perhaps disaster means something entirely different, or perhaps it's already begun.
There is plenty of wrong in our world, like hunger, war and extinction of species. These surely are signs of a failing world, which is what we expect from an apocalypse. What I'm trying to say is maybe we are already in an apocalypse but we just haven't realised or maybe can't accept it.

Away from all this doom and gloom and back to me me me!
I feel like I've been through my own personal apocalypse. It began with the disaster, or what is more commonly known as a nervous breakdown.
Now this sounds more serious than it actually is. A nervous breakdown can take many shapes and can entail a variety of things. For me it came as another bout of depression, with the addition of panic attacks. It was pretty scary to experience a panic attack for the first time properly. I've felt panicky before but this was new. I had no idea what was happening and basically thought I was going crazy.
The worst thing is not knowing what's happening, much like when a natural disaster happens. You are lost and don't know what it going on or when or if it will get better.
It feels like you are on the edge of sanity, like being on the very edge of a crumbling cliff-face and not knowing whether it will crumble beneath your feet or not. It's terrifying, to be quite honest, just like it would be to be caught in the middle of an earthquake or tornado or something similar. 
After being told it was a panic attack it became much more manageable, but that first month was scary as hell. 
Then there's the next stage, which is where you have to learn to live with the problem. You have to survive. It's like a big fight or struggle at first and you can't see how it's going to get better. But it does. Eventually. 
You don't really have a choice but to carry on. It's the hardest thing to do, carrying on when you don't know if things will get better. You aren't living, you are just being.
You start to question yourself, and change the way you think to try and get rid of the problem. But it never works. You can't give up though, because you've come so far already, so you battle yourself continuously trying to get through.

After this stage comes to aftermath. But I'm not there yet.
I'll let you know if I survive the end of the world.