Raped.

Raped.

I was raped.

It’s taken me 21 minutes to type those words through blurred vision and trembling hands.

I can’t tell you who by.

And that makes me feel like a liar.

All I know is the flashbacks I am experiencing as a form of PTSD.

I can tell you I was a child and I can tell you it was in a car.

I can tell you my skin feels as though it’s covered in dirt and my most personal body parts hurt from the feel and image of what happened.

But I can’t tell you much more than that.

The thing is, seen as I had blocked it out for all these years, when I remembered last week; it felt as though it had just happened that day.

I feel like I’m experiencing things as if I was only raped last week.. it’s all new to me.

Because of that, I don’t know how to handle it.

So what do I do?

Ask for help of course.

As I knew I was seeing the psychologist to be offered counselling anyway, I figured I’d wait a few days.. a few gruelling, distress filled days.

In those days I scrubbed my skin raw for several minutes in the shower. In those days I felt the inside of my skull physically going insane. In those days I hated every ounce of myself and my appearance. In those days I questioned every man I’ve ever known; even the ones I’m surrounded by now and I cannot look at them the same – what if it was you?

In those days my Mum started off understanding; shocked, but understanding. Most of all she was loving and caring and affectionate.

Toward the end of those days my Mum’s love and affection decreased as anger set in.

I know she is angry at the situation. She is angry she didn’t save me. But I also know, deep down, she is angry that I am putting her through yet another thing when she is already so tired. She is angry at who did this to me.. but she is angry at me, too.

So.. the end of those days came. I had my 7 minute appointment. I sat in front of the psychologist and I told her I am terrified; literally terrified. Everywhere. I don’t even feel safe in my house.

I’ll give you a few of her responses:

‘Most people with Emotionally Unstable Personality Disorder experience sexual or physical abuse in childhood and they make the decision to just get on with it’

‘Well, you’re not really doing anything at the moment so it’s not surprising you’re reacting this way‘ Dicsclaimer: It is school holidays so I have no uni or work.

‘If you need support, you’re going to have to seek that elsewhere. It isn’t something we offer here’

Great.

I waited those days. I scraped through those days. For nothing. You aren’t going to help me.

Why?

Do you not want to help me because you think it was my fault, too?

Do you think I’m lying?

So, here I am. Alone again.

And I’m still experiencing ‘those days’.

Nobody understands.

Nobody understands how terrified I am every waking and even sleeping moment.

Everyone says ‘I don’t know how to help; what do you want me to do?’

So I tell them.. love me, comfort me, protect me.

And then I speak of how I’m feeling and they get angry and I say ‘you’re getting angry’ and they revert back to ‘I don’t know how to help; what do you want me to do’ and so the process starts again..

So here I am.

Telling you what I need you to do:

LOVE ME

COMFORT ME

PROTECT ME

HEAR ME

BELIEVE ME

To my Mum.. I know you are tired. I know. I know my conditions and my dramas are what’s made you so tired. I know. I am being independent. I am spending 21 hours of the day coping alone because I know you need a break. But can you really not even handle me for 3 hours? Do you resent me that much? Have I worn you down so far you can’t even spend 3 hours with me 7 days after I remember a rape?

Why am I expected to get up and get on when I feel like I was only raped 7 days ago.

7 days.

If I really had only been raped 7 days ago I would be surrounded with love and comfort and reassurance.

Where is that now?

I’m still trying to process the feeling of my private areas being ripped apart. Of my hair being pulled and inappropriate things being forced inside me and my mouth. Of my ankles being held down and my arms being pinned to the car seat. Of the sound of a trouser zipper which still rings in my ears and makes me feel sick to my stomach.

I was raped.

I

was

raped.

Why do you doubt I won’t get up and get on and get over this? Why do you feel you have to tell me that’s what I need to be doing? Isn’t that what I’ve always done?

And sure as hell, I’ll do it again.

But right now, I am processing and that process is destroying me.. not forever, but for now.

I just need your love, support, understanding and reassurance right now.

So when I tell you how I feel and you get angry, maybe assess that your daughter, your granddaughter, your friend, has just been raped. And someone saying how they feel due to rape is not something to be mad at.

Being tired, worn and fed up of the same old drama and the ongoing nightmares I bring is something to be mad at. So address that.

I do not blame you for resenting me. Even for not liking me.

People act like I’ve changed when I repeat myself and need reassurance when in reality, I’m the best I’ve been in 9 years.. I don’t have screaming/ crying fits anymore, I can actually be left now and do things on my own, i don’t hear voices.. so maybe it’s not me that’s the problem; maybe it’s you,

So maybe address that rather than telling me to do one thing and then getting angry/ not paying attention when I do. It is confusing and makes me worse.

One day I will be rid of all this sh#t and you will be rid of me.

No one wants to help me? Fine.

I can do this on my own.

I will do this on my own.

You will see me living a life where all the reason for all this heartache is evident.

Love always,

An Impartial Soul xo

My Reason Why

My goodness, I didn’t anticipate how hard this would be.

Well, actually, that’s a lie. I never could imagine my life without you; just thinking about it caused me pain. However, I never truly understood just how much pain, as I never thought I’d have to actually feel it one day.

The fact it was me that called it a day makes me feel as though it’s my fault. Did I do enough? Did I try hard enough?

But then I have to remind myself that even now, you are not fighting for me. Even now that I have called an end on our 5 and a half year relationship, our 12 and a half year friendship.. you still don’t want to try.

I guess that tells me all I need to know.

Silence speaks a thousand words.

Even though you haven’t really tried for nine months, it doesn’t make it hurt any less.

I still love you with every living inch of my being.

I still miss you more than I ever thought possible.

When will every single thing stop reminding me of you?

Will I ever get through my day again without things as simple as cooking a meal, reminding me of a memory of you?

Right now it doesn’t feel like it.

You were my companion, my best friend, my safety net, my life for almost 13 years.

I don’t feel safe anywhere anymore.

My past, my present and my future feels empty now; vacant.

Everything I’ve worked so hard for is gone.

Everything I believed in has been taken from me.

So who am I now?

Who am I without you?

I’ve been part of a team for so long, I don’t know how to be on my own.

Will I ever feel happiness again? Will I ever learn to love again?

Will I ever stop loving you?

I want to, so much.

But right now, in this very moment, I am more alone than ever.

You were my family, you were my friend, you were my home.

It didn’t ever matter where I was, how I was feeling, what I was facing; so long as I had you.

I know now I must find out who I am without you. But you were my childhood, my adolescence and my adulthood.

How could you? How could you take all my dreams away from me?

Why wasn’t I enough?

I loved you endlessly. I would follow you anywhere. I would carry you for eternity.

What more could you ever need?

We had it all.

Our love was limitless. Our love was one of a kind. So why?

Wasn’t I pretty enough?

Is it my health?

Because I was this way when you fell in love with me, worse in fact.

Did you ever really love me at all?

How long has my life been a lie?

I have so many questions that I know you’ll never answer.

I’ve never felt like I am enough. I wasn’t for a lot of my family, for friends. But I always believed I was enough for you.

Will I spend the rest of my years never truly being enough?

I’m so alone and I’m frightened.

I’ve never been okay on my own.

It’s difficult being alone with someone you despise.

I liked who I was when I was with you. Only when I was with you.

And now I spend every moment in a body, a mind, I can’t stand.

Who is there to reassure me? Who is there to comfort me? Who is there to encourage me? Who is there to remind me I have worth?

I don’t know what’s real anymore.

I have to build a new life. New hopes, new dreams.

I have to let someone else in one day and I don’t know if they will ever really accept me.

I am so scared of the path that is now in front of me.

I don’t want to walk it alone.

I am stronger now. I know I can make it. I have to.

But if I had a choice, I would choose you every time.

You took all my choices away from me.

I couldn’t stay somewhere where you didn’t want to fight for me. For us. Where you didn’t want to try.

It wasn’t enough.

I need more.

There has to be more out there.

I’ll find it one day, won’t I?

‘Everything happens for a reason’.

I have to believe there is reason to this pain.

I’m sure, I know, one day I’ll look back on this and I’ll know why.

I’ll have something so precious that I will know, I will know why.

Until that day comes, I just have to keep fighting.

Take time to find myself.

Maybe even learn to like myself.

I can do this alone. I can do this without you.

For I am the woman you helped shape me to be.

You built me up with strength and courage and wisdom.

I will always remember you for that.

I will always look back on our time together fondly.

I will never, ever regret you. Or us.

I learnt so much from you about myself, about love, about life and for that I am grateful.

I was lucky to have loved a man like you.

I was lucky to have been loved by a man like you.

I was lucky to have known a love like we shared.

I may not ever find it again. But I don’t want to.

I will find something new, something different.

That will be my reason why.

Whether it be in work, in travel, in children, in romance, in friendship or even within myself.

That will be my reason why.

Love always,

Your Impartial Soul xo

I Need to Get Away..

Away from the town where my heart has been broken in to a thousand pieces.

Away from the fear of losing you & providing you with the opportunity to hurt me again, all at the same time.

Away from my mind that tells me it’s my fault, there’s something wrong with me, I’m too ugly, I’m too fat, I’m not good enough, I deserve this.

Away from my heart that tells me I can’t ever be with another man but you, my heart that tells me you are everything.

Away from the realisation that I am nothing to you.

Away from the tears on my cheeks which each represent every time you have let me down.

Away from the lack of cuddles I long for.

Away from the hope that there’s reason, meaning to this pain. Hope that you will love me again, the way you used to.

Away from the texts I never receive, the words I never, but long to, hear.

Away from the belief that you will make an effort, you will fight for me the way I’ve fought for you; but don’t.

Away from the silence full of words I need to say but can’t incase it pushes you any further away from me.

Away from the memories you share with me of the six months I longed to be part of your life but you wouldn’t let me.

Away from the memories I have of the six months where I wished for you, wished to smile, wished to feel warmth in my heart, wished to breathe without it hurting.

Away from the endless undelivered calls, texts, letters and emails I wrote every day but couldn’t send.

Away from my past where I spent twelve years of my life loving and wanting nothing but you.

Away from my future where I planned marriage, a home, children, a life – with you.

Away from my present where I have to try and rebuild something that I never broke.

Away from the prospect of never being able to forgive and having to be strong enough to find a way of living without you.

Away from the chance you could do this again.

Away from the fact you had the ability to cause me such ongoing, agonising pain.

Away from the nightmares, because you took away the only place I’ve ever felt safe.

Away from myself, the person I have grown to hate through all this.

Away from the rejection of my best friend.

Away from this stranger that I don’t know anymore.

Away from the loss of everything I ever believed in, the loss of the only truth I ever held in my life, the loss of my hopes and dreams.

Away from this bedroom, this bed that I shared with you.

Away from the excuses that don’t really provide any worthwhile answers.

Away from pretending that everything’s normal, that it’s okay.

Away from understanding when all I really want to do is make you see what you have done to me, that I am laying on this cold floor with torn clothes and I am empty and I am bruised and I am angry.

Away from this town where my heart has been broken in to a thousand pieces.

xo

The Brink of Everything

I feel like I’m at the brink.

The brink of losing my mind.

The brink of giving up volunteering and uni.

The brink of having a meltdown.

The brink of being admitted last night.

The brink of giving up on life.

I feel agitated, infuriated, sad and broken all at the same time.

I’m trying, my goodness am I trying.

Trying to persevere.

Trying to be positive.

Trying to stay strong.

Trying to love my life.

Trying to keep on trying.

But I don’t want to have to try anymore.

I want it to be natural. Easy.

Easy to smile.

Easy to enjoy moments in my day.

Easy to do normal, every day things.

Easy to be strong.

Easy to breathe.

One of the few positive things that does come naturally now is one of my skills I learnt in the process of DBT..

It’s called ‘Opposite Action’.

In theory, it means you do the opposite action (funnily enough!) to what your feelings are telling you to do.

See, there is supposedly an action for every emotion.

So for example..

For feeling sad, the action is to hide.

For feeling angry, the action is to lash out.

So if you were to do the opposite action..

When feeling sad, you would get up and active.

When feeling angry, you would implement strategies to remain calm.

Two of the biggest emotions I struggle with are sadness and guilt.

So when I feel sad, all I want to do is hide in my bed all day but instead I do the opposite action; I get up, washed and dressed every day.

When I feel guilty, all I want to do is hide whatever I feel guilty about and dwell on it but instead I do the opposite action; I confess what I feel guilty about to someone I can trust, usually my Mum.

This comes naturally to me now.

I’m so grateful it does.

Because that skill, that ability to always do the opposite action, means that I can keep on going.

It’s etched on to my brain now so that the majority of the time I do it without even thinking and when I do have to think about it, I know no matter how difficult, I must do it.

I am so, so thankful for that.

That mentality, to challenge and battle my most difficult emotions means that they can not defeat me. I will come out victorious.

How can something beat me, destroy and kill me, when I am fighting against it at equal or greater measure?

For it means I am stronger than my demons that challenge me. I have greater power than the weaknesses that grant me the title of the diagnosis ’emotionally unstable’.

Whereas before I learnt this skill I was at the lower end of the sea-saw, virtually hitting the ground whilst my emotions reached high in to the evening sky. I am now on an even keel. In fact, sometimes my emotions are the ones hitting the ground and I am the one reaching the sky above; except, this time there is daylight. The warmth of the sun rays are hitting my cheek.

I won’t pretend there still isn’t clouds in that sky because there is but there is sunlight, there is blue sky, there is hope.

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So please, if you can find it within yourselves even during one meltdown of the week; do the opposite action.

I promise you it will begin to come more easily than the first attempt makes you believe.

Love always,

An Impartial Soul xo

Anger Ball

Hello old friend,

We parted ways for a while,

I laid you at rest.

I discovered my demons and I conquered them.

But now you are back.

Because it turns out, the demons aren’t the things I’m fearful of at all; they are, in fact, the things I love the most.

The things that possess greatest ability to hurt me beyond words.

Should I fear those which are meant to keep me safe?

Are they more dangerous than my nightmares?

They certainly hold the most power.

You see, I’m fighting this tough fight every damn day.

I’m fighting the images in my head of the sexual abuse I endured and the disgust that comes with it.

I’m fighting the suicidal thoughts and thoughts to harm myself however possible.

I’m fighting feeling so deadly weak physically every single day.

I’m fighting my insecurities which rule me.

I’m fighting to breathe.

But the hardest of all those?

The hardest is fighting my family.

My family that are supposed to support me and understand no matter what.

‘It’s the way they were brought up’

‘They’re stuck in their ways’

No. That doesn’t cut it anymore. Not bloody good enough.

I just overheard my family discussing me, as I’m sure they always do, voicing their opinions.

Stating how I need to get back to work, get back to normality, find some independence.

See, I’ve taken some time off from volunteering and I’m on a break from uni until final year starts in April.

It’s all well and good having your opinions.

You may think you know what’s best for me.

I may appear fine on the outside.

But do you think my thoughts?

Do you feel my feelings?

Do you see my visions?

Do you manage my pain?

Do you realise that there are points in the day I have to remind myself to breathe?

Exhale, for the love of God, exhale.

Yes, opinions.

For sure, you are welcome to them.

But until you’re fighting my fight, until your facing my demons; keep them to yourself.

Can you not even try?

Try to not have an opinion but instead listen, listen to the words I am not saying. Listen to the pain in my eyes.. the heavy sigh when I hold that breath in just a little too long.

Why not distract yourself from your opinion with trying to understand. And if you can’t understand; trying to just be there.

Just be there.

No words, no advice, no opinions.

Just be there.

Endlessly and without question.

I will win this fight, just as I have every other. You’ve seen my victory; can’t you believe in my ability to overcome this too?

I’ve proven you all wrong time and time again, it’s just never good enough.

Oh ball of anger that resides in my chest and expands with every opinion,

Hello old friend.

Love always,

An Impartial Soul xo

The Dodo Birds of Society

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Did you know that the Dodo bird is an evolution of a badly lost flock of Pigeons? Something so common evolved in to something so rare it later became extinct..

How brilliant would it be if it had happened the other way around?

People whom understand or at least try and understand mental health (that are not sufferers themselves) are such an endangered species and unfortunately, in some sufferers lives, don’t exist at all; as though they’ve become extinct.

We need the evolution of the Dodo bird to happen in reverse within society. The rare (endangered species) of open minded people needs to evolve from a Dodo bird to a flock of Pigeons and within a matter of time they will be so common that everyone would feel welcome and confident in the universe. Wouldn’t that be perfect?

I may sound like I have gone a little off subject but actually, I feel it is of vital importance that before I continue with this blog, I mention just how lucky I am.

In previous posts, I pointed out that I was writing this blog anonymously. However, I have told two people of this blog and I know they will be reading this and my future posts. Those two people are my endangered species. Oh how lucky I am that they are not extinct.

I realise there is so many mental health sufferers out there whom face this journey alone, in a world of isolation where nobody understands, or even worse; doesn’t even try. I’m sorry to those people. I feel isolated even with being surrounded by an understanding family so I have no clue how alone and afraid you must feel and I won’t pretend to.

That being said, you are never alone as an mental health sufferer for you are surrounded by an infinite ocean of sufferers just like you. Please, especially if you feel alone; seek help.

I mentioned my understanding family. That may be a slight exaggeration.

I have an incredibly thoughtful, kind, warm hearted best friend. She has the most beautiful, caring soul I have ever encountered.

As well as her, I have my beautiful, inspirational Mum. She is everything I aspire to be in life.

They may not fully understand what I’m going through but they pretend they do. They put aside their own pain and thoughts to always make sure I feel safe, understood and part of a team. I can not begin to imagine how it feels to watch me go through such suffering and to still be completely selfless and pretend they’re not suffering themselves. They always say I am so strong to be the one going through it but I believe they are far stronger than I.

These kind of people are extremely rare (an endangered species) and I am so utterly blessed to have not one, but two of them in my life.

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My other friends? I don’t believe I have any. Not really. I care for people, yes, far more than I will ever care about myself and before this illness, would I have counted them as my friends? Yes, always. It’s only with time that I have come to learn that people that don’t ask how you are, even when they know you are ill, even if they don’t understand, aren’t really friends you need at all.

I believed I had a loving boyfriend whom understood and would always protect me and keep me safe from the dangers in this world. However, after five years of being in a relationship with him and twelve years of friendship; I have seen him 4 times in almost seven months, not at all for the past three. He puts this down to the fact he has always been on his own due to not being able to share his troubles with me because of my health.

How dare he.

It makes me so angry! I have never done anything other than love him and ensure he knows he is never alone. Yes, I have put him through some extremely difficult times due to my health but for over three years now I have worked on nothing other than being stronger and ensuring I am in a far better situation. And I am.

Surely he can see that?

I thought he was my soulmate, my one person in life I could always be completely comfortable around.

I guess people change.

But it’s killing me inside and I have this overwhelming sense of anger. Anger that he can hurt me this way after twelve years. Anger that I have poured my heart out to him on several occasions, anger that I’m fighting tooth and nail to keep us together yet he’s giving nothing back; he’s blocked me on all forms of social media. Why am I still in this ‘relationship’?

Because although I am surrounded by a lack of Dodo-evolved pigeons, it doesn’t stop me from loving them and feeling pain from their lack of affection.. I wish I could just switch off my humanity.

If they can’t handle me at my worst do they really deserve me at my best? 

I’m okay just having my Mum and my best friend. It’s hard but I’m extremely fortunate.

That being said, I never feel good enough for them. This illness makes me feel like I destroy their lives. I know they do it because they love me and yes, it’s their choice but it certainly isn’t mine. I don’t want this, especially not for them. They deserve far more than my suffering.

One thing I always hear? ‘You’re so lucky to have your Mum, she’s amazing’. I know. It’s all I ever hear. Do you not think I’m aware how bloody incredible she is? I couldn’t do it. I know. I am forever in her debt – I certainly don’t need you reminding me. I feel guilty enough.

No one ever says to the loved ones of a mental health sufferer; you’re so lucky to have (mental health sufferer in question). Why aren’t they lucky to have me? My illness doesn’t define me; I’m a decent person. Aren’t I?

I also have a group of close family members. They try to understand but they don’t. Whether that be due to the way they were brought up or their beliefs or their understanding on life. They can try but it isn’t enough. They still make their comments, assumptions and judgements. I love these family members but at times they infuriate me.

‘They try their best’. I know. But sometimes their best simply isn’t enough.

And on that note, I wish everyone surrounding me was a Dodo bird evolving in to a Pigeon.

Love always,

An Impartial Soul xo

DITCH The Label!

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May I just begin by saying I hope I don’t offend with this post, that is far from my intention and I have the upmost respect for all of you and your choice to live the life you believe in..

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BUT

I THINK I’VE SOLVED THE CASE OF ACHIEVING WORLD PEACE!

Well, at least in the wars surrounding the media at the moment.

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Imagine a world where we erased the titles of gender all together and simply became people.

A world where we do not identify as male or female.

We are just living, as one, equally.

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There’d be no need to define your sexuality as different labels would no longer exist.

You wouldn’t fall in love with a man or a woman, with someone of an opposite or the same sex.

You would just fall in love, with whoever your heart wanted to fall in love with.

Your mind wouldn’t even have to come in to play.

Other people’s opinions wouldn’t matter/ exist.

You would just be happily, hopelessly in love with your soulmate, just as they are.

& they would feel the same, just as you are.

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There’d be no inequality in the workplace when it comes to things such as wages as there wouldn’t be the option to pay a man higher than a woman or vice versa as you wouldn’t be able to decipher which is which.

As everyone would be the same, as one, equal.

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Harassment and sexual abuse on women (and men, but for the sake of this particular post I will focus on women) would become even more irrational than it is now, as people would be abusing people who are equal to them, who identify the same as them and therefore all their believed power would be lost; for how can you feel power over another person when you are equivalents?

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One whole sector of discrimination would be wiped out.

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IN FACT

LET’S ERASE ALL LABELS

Let’s erase races, gender, sexuality & so on..

LET’S JUST STRIP IT BACK TO BASICS

LET’S JUST BE PEOPLE

& what’s the basic, greatest right people have?

Freedom.

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So, let’s ditch the labels..

Let’s just be people with freedom.

Oh, how blissfully peaceful that would be.

Love always,

An Impartial Soul xo

The Fear of the Unknown

So, I’ve been relatively quiet the past week or so..

Truth is, I’ve been struggling; I’m not coping.

I am so utterly depressed that it is paralysing. As dramatic as that sounds, I’ve never felt anything like it.

I literally cannot move.

I just have no energy or strength, even thinking about rising out of this sofa is debilitating.

I am so, uncontrollably sad.

I mentioned in a previous post that the police had contacted me concerning something that had happened 14 years ago to an old school friend, asking me to be a witness.

It’d seem that uncovered an array of trauma that I myself had experienced.

I may have mentioned before that I have completely blanked out my childhood and it was only a mere few years ago that I remembered a few poignant moments.

These moments seemed to involve me suffering emotional and mental abuse from my cocaine-addicted ‘Stepmum’ (she isn’t worthy of that title to be honest!)

Other than that, I don’t remember any significant moments; a few happy ones but huge bulks of my timeline are missing.

On the evening of contacting the police last week, I was laying in bed; overthinking, analysing, worrying..

& suddenly, event after event unfolded within my very mind of four circumstances of a twisted sexual nature.

I felt sick.

I felt ashamed.

I felt disgusted.

& in that moment as I lay trembling in my bed; I was in a blur, I was lost, I was afraid.

I woke my Mum and clung to her for my very life.

She asked what had happened & I gave a brief outline as I have in this post yet however much she questioned me on what the circumstances were I just couldn’t bring myself to say the words; they were there, they were ready. They needed to be free but I just couldn’t let them escape the boundaries of my mouth, my mind, my heart.

Ever since I have been in an absolute mess.

So, today I had an appointment with a psychiatrist who I had only seen once before as my usual doctor is on sick.. this stand-in is absolutely brilliant; I have never connected to anyone so quickly & for that reason I hope my normal doctor never gets better (joking – of course!!)

I sat down in front of him as someone who never cries anymore as I have no emotion left in me.

All he said was ‘you sat in front of me last time with a mask on, like you do every day in your life, acting like you’re coping – and you’re not coping – are you?’

That was it. The flood gates opened. I wept ‘I’m not coping!!’

Finally. Finally I can let someone see in to my soul. The real me.

Whilst I didn’t tell him what had happened, he assured me I had been made to do these things; it wasn’t my fault.

The worst thing though, is that I know this was only the crust of an extremely thick slice of bread.

The worst thing from all of the past week is what it has unfolded at the very back of my mind.

A box, full of dread and trauma.

Whilst I don’t know what happened to me as I can’t remember, I now feel it there. I know it’s there. I know there’s something that my mind is too traumatised by to uncover.

Jesus, that terrifies me.

He summed up how this explained the majority of my current circumstances, qualities and traits.

He mentioned PTSD numerous times & I sobbed how I wished I could remember.

He said ‘why?’

‘Would you want the young people you work with to forget the trauma they’ve been through if they could?’

‘It’s amazing you’ve turned out the way you have with everything you’ve experienced. The fact you’re at uni, volunteering, is remarkable. Even if you weren’t doing those things I would be amazed how well you’re doing, just by surviving.’

Ok, so, maybe I’m lucky.

In a bizarre, cruel way; maybe I’m one of the lucky ones.

Maybe I need to learn how to manage this suppression; how to survive.

For I have survived all these years.

To those have suffered trauma, abuse, heartache yet are still here; you are a survivor.

& to survive is the hardest part of living.

You are strong.

I am strong.

My psychiatrist is going to have someone get in contact with me by the end of the week so I can start therapy (again) & I am going to beat this.

I am going to win.

Love always,

An Impartial Soul xo

The Anxious Owl

Darkness surrounds me, it’s 2am and my nocturnal nature has set in again.

The darkness isn’t only surrounding me, it’s inside of me, consuming me. The depths of pitch black emptiness feel as though they could delve to the core of the earth, the core of my being.

Whilst the darkness is pulling me down, my mind down, my heart down.. the anxiety is building up, growing stronger, intensifying, consuming..

Overwhelming.

It’s been a troublesome day, a Monday, mundane, stressful, tiring.

It’s 2am and I’m at my weakest now, I’m fragile, I’m worn, I’m tired.

My bedtime companion has been waiting for me. I could sense it’s presence whilst I was downstairs watching TV, trying to unwind and my bedtime was looming.

As I got in to bed I could feel it tapping on my shoulder. I smiled as it crept behind me, embraced me and swore it’d never let go.

Oh how I love this sensation; the warmth, the comfort, the safety.

I turn to it and it hits me.

The cold, the fear, the uncertainty.

I was fooled in to the prospect of dreams and instead faced my nightmares.

Every nightmare I’ve ever had in the bed beside me until I wear myself so thin to the ground with overthinking that my mind can not bare any more and I fall asleep and face the anxieties in my unconscious nightmares.

But for now, I must not consider what I’ll experience in my sleep, although, that adds to my ever-growing anxiety as I lay awake. I must consider how I will overcome the here and now, how I will close my eyes and think of sweet nothings as I drift hopelessly in to a sea of content.

Laughable, right?

It seems so far from possible tonight and every other night.

Instead I consider how I got a call today to write a statement for a police investigation which occurred 14 years ago as a witness and before I know it, I’m 36 mistakes in to every bad thing I’ve ever said/ done and I’m panic stricken that it’s all going to come out in court.

It’s probably irrational, it’s probably impossible.

But now I’m 42 mistakes in and I’m contemplating what an awful person I am..

So it’s no wonder my Dad didn’t want me.

I wonder how he is? I haven’t contacted him in weeks.

I am so selfish, what if he dies and I haven’t bothered to call him?

How will I live with myself?

And then I’ll have proved his drug addicted girlfriend right.

No wonder she mentally abused me when I was a child, I probably deserved it.

Oh,

See how easy that was?

See how I captured a single snowflake in my hand

And that snowflake grew in to a snowball?

It stopped there though, right?

No.. I’m hopelessly unaware I’m suffocating in the middle of an avalanche.

And now I’m laying on the ground, cold, afraid, dark and alone.

Surrounded by the snow, the anxiety that consumed me.

My bones are so frozen, my body is so worn, my brain is so drained.

I start to drift.

It’s not a safe, comforting drift. More like a haze.

But that haze will turn in to such emptiness that my whole being closes down for the day, for the night.. and I’ll sleep.

Surely, I’ll sleep?

What if I don’t sleep?

What if I have to lay here for the next 8 hours worrying?

What if I fall asleep and I have a nightmare again and I start screaming to escape it?

What if I see something in my room again!?

What if there’s something in my room right now?

What if it wasn’t a dream?

I’m done.

It’s 5.30am and I’m waking to use the bathroom.

I’m still so exhausted, so for now, I’ll sleep. I’ll rest easy.

See you again tonight my bedtime companion, for, I don’t know how to stop being your anxious owl.

Maybe it’s because I don’t want to be alone. Maybe I want to be embraced, even by you my bedtime companion, rather than feel the cold of loneliness.

Maybe I need to consider a life where I feel comforted by my own company, by my own soul.

Maybe if I find comfort in solitude, I won’t find fear in loneliness.

I guess the impression I’m getting from the majority of my writing is that I will find so much more happiness, resilience and contentment in life if I just learn to love myself.

I challenge you to find one thing you love about yourself in this very moment.

Hold on to it.

If you’re brave enough; share it with me!

Love always,

An Impartial Soul xo

Vanity or Nurture?

As my beautician asks me if I can rearrange my eyelash appointment from today to Monday, I rush to the bathroom, look in the mirror and an overwhelming feeling of dread feels my body.

I’m too polite to say no and a self-confessed people pleaser, so I just try and manage the fact I’m going to be panic stricken and self conscious every moment I’m out of the house for the next four days.

My lashes and hair are the only thing that make me feel confident. Yes, it may sound superficial. It may sound vain. But I have always taken care in my appearance, even on my very worst days because it is the only way I can bare to leave the house without an overwhelming sense of paranoia and dread.

I am so self conscious.

I hate myself.

If there is even one way that I can make myself feel even a tiny bit better about the person I am and the way I look, I’m sure as hell gonna take it.

But now I have to face the next four days with lashes that are beyond in need of maintenance and I have to attempt not spending the next 5760 minutes only in my home.

How?

I am so aware of the state of my lashes and the fact they are there it’s as though I have a bag of sugar balancing on each eye. They are so heavy and noticeable it’s as though they’re alive.

In some ways, they are alive.

They’re alive to me.

They are the person I hide behind, the person that protects me, the person that makes me feel better, the person that isn’t actually me and therefore is more likeable.

They may portray as vanity but they are in fact my safety, my confidence, my strength.

Every shred of the little confidence I have resides in my lashes, makeup and hair.

How superficial, how fake?

They’re still a part of me, a part of who I am.

For that reason, I will cling on to them. I will cling on to the parts of me I actually like, no matter how minuscule.

So now I have to struggle through the next 5754 minutes, feeling fragile, weak, paranoid and self conscious.

I don’t feel like it’s possible yet I know, I will do it.

Through the overwhelming anxiety, paranoia and dread there is always a part of me that knows I can do it, I will, I have to.

There’s just no other option.

Keep on keeping on readers.

Love always,

An Impartial Soul xo