Well hello to all. By God has it been a long time!

I’m sure you’ve been wondering why I suddenly ‘left the face of the earth’ and subsequently haven’t returned for over a year. Well…there’s a lot to unpack.

Back when I wrote my last post, it was at the end of summer 2020 and I was about to start my last year doing a BTEC in performing arts. I was at the peak of my game – self acceptance, balance, emotional understanding and an incredible support network. Then in September, life as always started playing its mischievous game on me, turning my world upside down.

I suddenly found myself returning to the sea of raging hormones…school. You might be questioning why I found this so difficult to handle, considering I’d just had months of deep self reflection. Well, I guess I had forgotten what it was like; what it was like being surrounded by teens who desperately suffered with their own mental health issues. I was taken back to what it felt like being trapped in a swirling pool of darkness. I had spent a good time away from that environment and had started viewing it from an outside perspective. Going back in was a whole different ball game.

Now…at first it was okay. Shocking and tough – but okay. However, after a few months I felt Gary slowly creeping back in and spreading his poison. I began friendships with extremely toxic people; it was hard to cope with their attitude and behavioural patterns – and my anxiety was triggered immensely. The work load started piling up in front of me, the environment I stepped into three days a week was destructive and the world I knew had suddenly vanished, and had been replaced with a new one.

It started out with a feeling of heaviness; it felt like I was carrying a ton of bricks on my back every day. Then came the numbness; I literally couldn’t feel anything – happiness, sadness, love. Next was the anger, the rage I had at life for throwing this ugly monster right at my doorstep. Lastly, the worst one there was – the feeling of being a burden. It spread its treacherous bacteria into my brain and the suicidal feelings returned. Every time I would go out with a group of people, I’d take a step back and think to myself “I don’t belong here, people don’t want me, they just invite me out of sympathy, I’m just a scrape.” I liked to walk alone behind them so I could let out some tears for a split second, then I’d run towards them and become the crazy, funny, party girl again. Midnight calls to my brother at university who’d do his best to calm me down, going out and distracting myself, not turning up to school, sleeping all day, drinking too much… Most of the time I felt trapped in bed – like multiple layers of cling film were wrapped tightly around me.

The biggest thing that got me through it was the self belief that I knew these feelings were temporary. And yes…they were. I managed to climb my way out of the pit by getting a therapist who really, really helped me. I started spending time with friends who cared for me and I asked the teacher for support in dealing with my workload. By the end of my BTEC I managed to get decent grades and left with some incredible friends. Despite one very disturbing incident involving a girl on my course, which led to a very tumultuous end to the year, overall I left feeling happy.

Now…the summer of 2021, was crazy. I went on holiday with my friends and I had the time of my life. It was very anticlimactic coming back home and subsequently the holiday blues kicked in – for much longer than I thought they would. I would go out clubbing and partying weekly and most of the time I’d end up extremely hungover with some chest infection or cold afterwards. I must admit – although it was perhaps an unhealthy coping mechanism, I did have loads of fun. But then, my friends started going to university and boy did reality kick back in. I was smothered in a wave of sadness. This time, I distracted myself with a job. This helped a lot at first but Gary managed to sneak his way in to my brain again, despite the excitement of our imminent house-move.

I became extremely self conscious of my weight (even though I had a lost a lot of it) and developed body dysmorphia. I started making myself throw up every day, multiple times a day. Sometimes I would binge eat and then make myself sick, other days I wouldn’t eat anything at all. What I was unintentionally doing, was vomiting out my epilepsy medication meaning my flinches had returned. My family begged me to open up to them but I was cocooned in my own misery and felt safer staying there. Why didn’t I just ‘solve’ the issue by exercising? Well, trudging through the sandstorm of each day, motivation was just beyond my reach. Overcome by anxiety, I resigned from my job.

It was only when I had an epilepsy check-up, that I became aware of the consequences of what I was doing to myself. The neurologist told me that the medication takes 21 hours to be fully processed and therefore work effectively, so by throwing up daily, I had essentially stopped taking it. This was the wake-up call I needed.

If I’m being honest, I struggle with body dysmorphia to this day and still battle to some extent with feelings of guilt when I eat. BUT… I love food! As long as I don’t wake up really late, I make sure that I eat three times a day and try and include at least one healthy addition to my diet. In fact, I’m in a better place than I have been for a long time. I’m very excited that my mums have got engaged and, at the moment, life is warm and cozy. I’m appreciating it all.