the care prompt

Over the last couple of days, one of my friends took a break from twitter and all other forms of communication, so I had no way of contacting her. She's a good friend, and she has cared about me in the past, so it was only natural that I cared about her unscheduled leave. I had an idea of why she had left, and I respected that. I sent her a few messages privately to let her know that she could talk to me when she was ready.

Last night she returned to twitter and messaged me back. She was grateful that I cared enough to check on her and notice that she was gone- as she gave no warning to anyone. However, after tweeting that she was back, she noticed that some people messaged her and claimed to have seen that she was gone. She wasn't sure whether this was true or not because during her short break, none of them messaged her.

Hearing about this made me think, it's happened to me before so many times, and I've finally figured out what I can call it. It's the care prompt. Many people only tend to show that they care when it's too late, or when they are prompted to care. Lots of people don't notice when someone needs help, because they don't care to look for the subtle details.

I'm not saying that everyone has to know everyone's character inside out to be able to care about them, I'm just saying that sometimes people need to look past the obvious and see what's there. When I get bad, I tend to not speak to people as much, and just keep to myself a lot. My closest friends can notice almost instantly when something is wrong with me- because they truly care about me.

Lots of people also say that they care, but when help is needed, they're nowhere to be found.

invisible

I'm always treated as if I'm invisible, or people treat me like my problems don't matter. Many people claim to care about me, but it's only a claim. When I actually need their help they just disappear. I could be screaming in a crowd of people and no one would even turn to look at me. 

It's like I'm a background voice, just someone to make someone else's life that little bit more interesting, not through me though, but just by watching me struggle. 

I've always been left on my own, no one really wants to listen to my problems. They're unimportant, like me. The people who do acknowledge that I'm struggling just tell me to 'stay strong' or 'keep going' but it's not that easy. When you're constantly ignored by everyone who should care about you, it gets hard to want to go on. 

I just wish that people cared, really cared, and actually asked me how I was instead of just saying they're there for me. Saying that you're there for someone doesn't really matter if you don't actually do anything to try to help them. 

But it's too late now. 

emotional abuse

You like doing it, don't you? Hurting me. Using your emotions to try to manipulate me into your passive little doll who you can control. I bet you enjoy torturing me, bringing up the past in a spiteful way, just to try to push me over the edge so I get angry at you. If I get angry at you, it's all my fault. Apparently. 

This won't go on for much longer, I won't let it. It's been years already, but what you fail to realise is that soon enough, I'll be able stop this. You'll never see me again. It'll be your fault, but you'll still find a way to blame me. 

art

Art has never been a big part of my life, in fact, I only discovered I had some sort of talent for it two years ago. All through school, my teachers had been correcting me and saying I was drawing something the wrong way, or painting with the wrong colour. Thinking back now, I was good at art back then, and it's quite sad that they didn't see it.

There was a girl in my class who was known as 'the artist' so the teacher would always pay more attention to her than everyone else, so I hid my work a lot and tried not to let the teacher see it, because she never said it was good at all, only complained about the things that I'd done wrong. 

The year after that, I had a new teacher, but I'd become very hidden with my work by then. I'd never let the teacher see my work. I never really spoke to anyone in art that year. I just didn't feel comfortable being there. I felt like I was being controlled- we were all given the exact same tasks so we had to create work which felt like a replica of every other person's in the room. There was no freedom of expression that year.

At the end of that year, I had to decide which GCSEs I wanted to take (for those of you who don't know what a GCSE is, it's basically the qualification you get at the end of high school in the UK, and it is done over two years). I decided which subjects I wanted to take, and then just added art on at the end. I didn't really want to do it, but I didn't want to do anything else. 

During my GCSE art, I had a new teacher. He was much more down to earth than any other teacher I'd ever had. He recognised my talent for drawing and would encourage me to try new and creative techniques- often laughing at me as I failed in the process. He never laughed in a harsh way, but in a way that made sense.

I was one of the few people in the class who was willing to try new things, and I think he really liked that. I think he also liked my hard working attitude. I'd often sit on my own listening to music for the whole lesson and just getting so much work done, while the rest of the class were distracted and talking. He also really respected my need for space when I was working. He would often walk past my work, look at what I was doing and walk away without saying a thing. He knew that if I needed advice that I would go to him myself. 

Every other person in my year who did art hated him, but I really liked him. Once a year we had to talk to all of our teachers, just so they could tell us how we were doing and I remember speaking to him very vividly. He briefly spoke about my work but spent most of the time asking how I was getting on. He said he recognised himself in me- a very individual person who tended to avoid mixing with people. I think the fact that we could relate to each other made me trust him even more. He was definitely my favourite art teacher I'd ever had. 

When I was getting really bad with my depression, he wouldn't stop me from creating depressing work, well, once he said that my piece would be taking it too far which at the time annoyed me, but thinking back now, I agree. I think he realised that I needed art to express myself, because I was bad at expressing things every other way.

Learning to express my emotions through art is very hard. I've had to conform to a teacher's wishes for so long that I never truly learned to listen to myself, and I'm still learning. But my work contains so many emotions, when I choose to put them in. 

I have two styles of art- art which is obvious and contains no emotion. It is simply me putting an image onto paper and making it as perfect as possible. This is what I have to do most of the time, so I can get a good grade at college. Then, theres my emotional art. I find this so much more difficult because instead of drawing something that really exists, I draw what I see in my mind, or something to express how I feel. It's quite difficult to explain, but if you saw the difference between my art for college, and my emotional art, you'd understand.

My emotional art is always very interesting. It tends to be messy and it's not always clear what it is, but it always contains emotions, thoughts and feelings, sometimes ones I didn't even know I was feeling. I sometimes show one of my friends my emotional art, and he is very good at trying to figure out what it means, because I often find it difficult to understand my work. He isn't always right, but he is usually quite close. He looks into what I've subconsciously done and tries to understand that, which I don't do, so it's nice to have someone helping me to understand what I have created. 

I don't show many people my emotional art because it feels like I'm exposing parts of myself that I don't understand, and I just don't want people to make a judgement based on what they see in my art.

Art is something that I love doing, because it challenges me and allows me to focus on just one thing and block out the rest of the world for a little while.

running

I have always wanted to be a runner. It's something that has always interested me and I've always wanted to be good at it, but I never had the confidence to just go for it. This was until about six months ago. One of my friends was interested in losing weight, and asked me for advice on how she could do it healthily. As well as eating healthily, I told her she needed to exercise. Like me, she didn't have the confidence to just go out and start a whole new sport on her own. One day she suggested to me that we should go running. I was honestly so happy that she suggested it!

We went on our first run, and within about two hundred meters we were walking, realising how unfit we really were, but refusing to give up. We walked and ran around a nice path that goes past some beautiful nature. We continued to go a few more times every few days, however my friend sadly lost interest in running and became too busy to try to get back into it. This was when I started to run with someone else.

I'd run with them at night when it was dark and no one was around. With them I progressed from eight minute kilometres to five minute kilometres. We'd run together three or four times a week. This was until I got injured. I don't completely remember how it happened, but I injured my knee so badly that I was unable to walk for a week, and struggled to walk very far for the next week. 

Despite injuries, aches and pains I have not given up, because it's something I have always wanted to do, so I will keep at it. 

Running has been an amazing coping mechanism for me, my fastest kilometre time (4:36) was actually done when someone had really upset me and I'd just had enough of everything. Instead of doing something that I'd regret, I decided to put on my running shoes and just go. I ran as I was crying. Thankfully it was late at night so no one saw me, but I felt a lot better after running. Running really helps me to sort out my emotions. When I feel bad, going for a run helps me most of the time.

Running helps not only my mind, but also my body. I've become so much fitter and healthier since I started running, and I'm honestly so glad that I did start running!

I have run in two races for charity (10k and more recently a 5k). In both of these races, I didn't really do that well at all, because I was very unwell for a few weeks before the 10k so had to stop my training during that time, and I had an injury before and during my 5k race. I really enjoyed taking part in these races, even though it was not a nice experience for my body, it was a lovely experience for my mind. Races encourage me to find an inner strength which I didn't know I had. Lots of people say I am strong already, but when I run I become very weak. As soon as my mind wants me to stop, I stop. It's a weakness I have found in myself, but I actually really like it, because it encourages me to want to keep going so that one day I can be stronger than my desire to stop.

I'm planning on starting training for a half marathon soon, not for any race in particular, but because distance running is something I've dreamed of being able to do. If I can find a race close to the end of my training, then I think I will compete in it, however I'm doing this just for a personal achievement, not with the aim of competing. 

One of the best benefits I have discovered from running is that my confidence has increased so much. I'm now more confident with how I look, and who I am. Running just gives me an amazing sense of self belief. I know I'm definitely not the best runner in the world, but I am not the worst, and I will keep going. 

I am an all weather runner, I will run no matter what. 

music and some random thoughts

Many people say that music helps them through a lot- that a certain singer or band gives them hope through their words. Some even go as far to say that their music has saved their life. I've never been able to say that. I don't really become a fan of a group or artist, I never have, so the idea of being a dedicated fan seems like an alien concept to me. Whenever people ask me what my favourite band or artist is I can never give a proper answer because I don't have a favourite. 

I like many types of music, quite literally a bit of everything. If you go through my ipod you'll find pop, rock, rap, country, and yes, even a bit of opera. I have English music, French music, German music, and a few other languages. Although most of my music is English, I do enjoy listening to the foreign songs, even if I can't understand most of what they are saying.

I love music that sounds good even when you listen past the lyrics and really hear the beat and the instruments involved. It sometimes seems like I can feel the person playing the instruments if I listen closely enough.

I have an exceptional memory for song lyrics and timings. I know lots of people who say they have an exceptional memory for lyrics too, but when they witness me memorising the lyrics to a song that I haven't heard in eight years, with the words coming out of my mouth but an expression of pure confusion on my face as I wonder how I can remember such an old song, they realise that I do have a scarily good memory for song lyrics. I don't know why I do, but I guess you could consider it a talent. 

One possible explanation is that I tend to view songs as poetry with music behind them. Although I am not a fan of poetry, when you add the right sort of music to it, it can become almost hypnotic to me. I like music with meaning behind it, often these songs are quite confusing to most people and they don't make sense, but I'm the sort of person that figures out the meaning to a song before I decide whether I like it or not. 

A couple of years ago I had to do an art project based on a song of my choice. I chose a song which I had only heard once before and throughout the entire project I listened to it over and over again. I attached so much meaning to the song, and created what I consider to be my best piece of art yet. Now whenever I hear the song, I'm taken back to the emotions that I have associated with it. 

To me, music can be a source of inspiration, or guidance. But I know that although it may offer me ideas, it is ultimately me who decides on what to do and acts on this thought. 

One thing I would like to do is to write poetry with the aim of adding music to it, but at this point in time, my aim is to learn to express myself through poetry, which I will keep to myself in a book, but maybe this poetry will help me in more ways than one. Writing is a coping mechanism which I don't use often enough, and I really think that I should. I just find it difficult to express things through words, but I really want to learn how to be able to do it. I'll just have to keep practicing. 

take care of yourself

This time of year is quite tough for lots of people, particularly those in education.. It's exam time. 

Although some exams have already been and gone so far this year, most people still have some to go, me included. But it's very important that you take care of yourself. Give yourself time to rest and relax properly. Set aside an hour or two every evening to just relax- watch a movie, have a peaceful bath, read a book or just get some extra sleep.

It can be a stressful time, so you need to make sure that you take care of yourself and give yourself the rests you need.

Don't push yourself too far. 

stories and experiences

We all have a story to tell. Our lives are full of many small stories in an overall big story. People sometimes ask others, 'what's your story?' By this they could be referring to the story that brought the person to where they are now, or the story behind a certain character trait they have developed over time. 

All stories come with meanings, some big, some small, but every story can teach us something new. This is called experience.

I think that most of the time, what we have learned and experienced from something is far more important than the story that comes with it. Stories can change and develop over time, even if we don't mean for them to, but experience doesn't change in that way. Of course, it changes, but it only grows.

Think of yourself as being an empty piece of paper at birth. Every time you learn something new from an experience, you can put a small mark on the piece of paper. By the time you're eighteen, your piece of paper will be covered in marks. Some of us will have more marks than others, however the number of experiences we have learned from doesn't determine how much we have learned from each of them.

Your experiences can define you. You have the choice of whether to let them make you better or bitter.  

how I coped with people finding out

I think that most people with a mental illness fear it being discovered to others, at least to some extent. This is mainly due to the stigma that can be attached    to some mental illnesses. I wasn't really afraid of people finding out about my mental illnesses because I've lived with them for most of my life so it's just a part of me, I just didn't want someone to find out and use it against me.

This blog post was requested by someone via twitter. They asked me to discuss what I did when people found out about my self harm. I decided to also speak a bit about what I did when people found out about my mental illnesses. 

I'm an honest and open person, when you ask the right questions. I don't often give away unrequested information about myself, and everyone who is close to me knows this well. It's not that I want people to ask, it's just that I don't feel that certain things need to be discussed unless prompted. For this reason I was actually quite open about my self harm. I kept it to myself for a long time, but after a few years, my friends started to ask me questions about why I would always cover certain parts of my body and why I'd always have to have 'time to myself'. Even though I didn't particularly want to, I told my friends about what I was doing and explained my reasons. I had mixed reactions from friends about it, some (to my suprise) understood as they had gone through it before, but I'd never known because we never spoke about it, and others said it was stupid and that I shouldn't do it. This didn't really bother me because that was their opinion and I respect that. They weren't rude to me about it, but they just didn't really want to know about it. 

I remember a couple of years ago at school I went to the bathroom and my friends were going to come with me because it was lunch time and they were bored. I asked them not to. So I went to the bathroom and just sat there for a while. I had planned to do something but then I heard the door open, I saw two people walk in but they weren't speaking. I knew it was them so I had to just walk out as if I'd been using the toilet and act suprised to see them. But they saw right through this act and asked me what I was doing. I got angry, not so much at them, but at myself for not being able to hide the fact that I was feeling really bad. They kept asking me questions and when they finally let me get a word in, I explained what was happening. They were shocked, but they asked to see what I was talking about, so I showed them, just because I knew they'd end up seeing them anyway when we got changed for PE. From that point onwards they both watched out for me a bit more, making sure I was okay on days when I didn't seem so happy. Although I didn't want them to find out, it actually helped me to feel a lot more relaxed at school.

Sadly things didn't continue so well at school and soon enough it had become a rumour that I was self harming. At first I didn't like the thought of everyone knowing,  I decided to hide everything a lot more. But that just wasn't working out for me, so I began to stop covering things up. I got some stares in lessons, particularly from the people who had been spreading the rumours, but strangely enough my open attitude towards it all seemed to stop the rumours. I had a couple of people speak to me in lessons, asking why I did it, trying to understand my reasons. A couple of people asked to speak to me privately and they told me that they'd had friends who had self harmed before and that they wanted to try to help me. I really appreciated their offers but at the time I didn't really want to stop. 

I never showed off my self harm for attention, and everyone knew that. People knew that I felt comfortable dressing in a certain way which included wearing short sleeve tops. And I would never have my self harm on open display- I'd just treat it as if it wasnt there and so I'd actually end up hiding it through standing or sitting in certain positions. Of course, the people at school didn't see all of my self harm because most of it was hidden under other clothes, but the ones that were easily visible, they saw. 

After a couple of months I started to get some negative reactions from some people who really hated me, and they were actually the reason that I stopped self harming to begin with. I thought that if I let the self harm heal and prove to them that I didn't need it that they would leave me alone. It didn't work, but I had to continue to keep clean, just so they couldn't use it against me. That's why I stopped self harming, and the threat of them using it against me again continued for many more months, which forced me to keep clean all that time- after about five months though it got easier and I decided to do it for myself. 

The people at that school found out about a couple of my mental illnesses at the same time as they found out about my self harm as this information was spread around with the rumours of my self harm. None of them knew about all of them, just two of them. I wasn't happy about people finding out because I was expecting people to use it against me, but no one ever did. It was odd. No one really mentioned anything about it to me, I guess people were just too afraid to ask.

I'm now no longer at that school and I don't even want to think about how the rumours may have progressed, but those rumours mean nothing to me because I know I'm recovering.

Telling my friends outside school about my self harm was a lot easier because they all knew me so well. I felt that I could really be honest with them. I told them about it one day a couple of years ago during the summer, and they were very helpful to me, and still are.

It was a bit more complicated telling my best friend. He found out in the worst way possible.. I don't really want to say too much about this, because it's not something that I feel the need to share, so I'll just say, I regret the way he found out about it. I now very rarely discuss the topic with him. 

Finallly, my parents. It was very difficult to tell them about my mental illnesses and depression. I got my friend to help me write a letter to them explaining everything. I gave it to them. They said they expected one of the mental illnesses, as I was at a genetic disposition to develop depression, and they knew that I had been bullied so it was really a matter of time. They didn't expect the other mental illnesses though, and weren't sure whether I self harmed or not. I didn't like telling them because I knew that at some point they would use this information against me, but I needed help and I didn't know how to get it, so I needed them to know. Sadly my parents did use this information against me at many times, but I'd expected them to so I'd been able to prepare myself for it. 

I'm glad that I've told my friends and family about my self harm and mental illnesses. By telling them about it, although I didn't like it at the time, it's actually helped me a lot. My friends in particular have been there for me no matter what, and because they knew what was going on for me, they could help me, and I could talk to them openly and honestly about it. As mentioned before, a couple of my close friends thought that all of it was silly for me to have and do, so I never mentioned it to them again, however a couple of times since finding out, they've just asked me how I've been getting on with everything. It really meant a lot that they asked, because I knew how much they didn't want to hear about it, but they cared more about my wellbeing. 

I think the fact that I was willing to be so open and honest about everything (when prompted) really helped me out, because my friends who have no expereince with mental illness or self harm sometimes come to me for advice on how to help another friend. My friends and family all know that I haven't self harmed in a long time, so we don't discuss it anymore. We treat it as something that is in the past, and I like it that way. I occasionally speak to one of my friends about my self harm when the urges return, but it's mainly a way of just venting out my emotions, and she knows that I won't do it again. 

my next step in mental recovery

For those of you who don't know, I hate having baths. I completely detest the whole experience. I'm not a huge fan of showers either but it gets everything over and done with more quickly. I hate having baths for various reasons. Partly body and self confidence issues, but partly for a reason that I don't think I've shared with anyone. 

As many of you are aware, I used to self harm. It's been nearly a year since the last time I harmed myself, and you'd never know if you quickly looked at my body. My scars have faded, mostly. When I have baths my scars show up again. I don't know whether it's to do with the warm water surrounding me or anything, but every time I have a bath my scars show up. They're not that obvious- if I forget about them, which I often do, I would never notice them. It's just when I'm thinking about things and I remember them, then I look down and there they are. 

Seeing my scars brings back the past and reminds me of when I created them. I don't remember every time I hurt myself because there were sadly just too many times that I did it, and too many times when I was not fully aware of my actions. But a few of them, I remember as if I did them yesterday. I could tell you why I did them, when, where I was, what I did it with. I could tell you what I was thinking and what I did afterwards. I never speak of these things though because they're memories that I do not feel the need to share. But when I see my scars, everything comes back to me.

I'm very happy that my body heals quickly and that my scars have faded over the months, but I guess that what's left will never truly fade away. Just like the memories. 

Anyway, I had a bath today, as I occasionally have to so I can relax my muscles after running frequently, to prevent aching. And I forgot about my scars, until I looked down and saw them. I spent a few minutes just inspecting them. Remembering what had happened, and then I began to think. These scars are with me for life, of course they have faded, but they will always be there. I hurt myself, I chose to do this to myself and I am now having to live with the consequences. I continued to think and it felt like I'd finally realised something, something that I'd been hoping to realise for a long time, but never did. 

I realised that I don't want to self harm ever again.

Some of you may say that I've said this before, and that I've made a promise never to self harm again (which I've kept to very well, and I intend to maintain this), but this is the first time that I've really thought about my actions and their consequences. During black outs, I did lose control, but as I recover I am learning how to get out of those black outs and get back in control of everything. My black outs are decreasing in frequency and I am now able to (somehow) get myself out of them with more ease. But when I am completely conscious, I definitely have full control over my actions.

Now that I have learned that my actions have consequences, through my own experiences, I now understand just how important it is to cope with my problems with healthy methods. This is why I will continue with my running. If I'm going to use something to deal with my problems, I might as well try to become talented at it. 

you are powerful beyond belief

Look at yourself. Really, look at yourself. You're human. You've grown from just a few cells into what you are now. You've got hands to feel, feet to walk and a mind to think. You are constantly changing, growing, developing into your future self. But, something that's amazing is that you can decide who you will be.

Deciding isn't enough though, if you want it you're going to have to go and get it. There's no point sitting around wishing that things would be exactly how you want them because you need to get up and work for it yourself. It's an uphill struggle and no one is going to be able to help you all the way. Of course, people can give you little nudges in the right direction every now and then but ultimately it's down to you. It's you that tells your feet to move, it's you who tells you to keep going and its also you who lets yourself give up. Don't do that.

A dream is only a dream if you don't do anything to try to achieve it. A dream becomes reality when you decide that you will achieve it. We all know it wont be easy, but if it was easy, everyone would do it. Too many people let their dreams pass them by because they just don't want to put in the effort. It's going to be tiring, you're going to want to give up but you will never grow if you remain in your comfort zone.

All these ideas of things you want to say, places you want to visit, dreams that you want to achieve, they're only going to be little wishes in your head unless you do something to achieve them.

This is your life, you can make the choices, and its up to you what you do with it. If you want to write a book then go ahead and start writing it, because you can always change it later if you don't like what you've written now. If you want to climb a mountain then start working on your fitness and soon you'll be able to do it. If you want to go and help people in need of it then be prepared to take some time away from what you're doing now to be able to help them.

No one ever achieved greatness by being average, but ultimately no one is average. We all have unique strengths and abilities, some of us just never find them because we don't explore life enough. Greatness is within all of us, we just have to find what it is that we are so great at.

If you want something badly enough, you've got to go out and fight for it, work day and night for it, because this dream can become your reality if you really want it to.

You are what you believe. No one else can change you. No matter what anyone thinks about you, no matter what anyone believes about you, it can't change who you are. The only person who can change you is you.

So go ahead, live your life and I mean really live it. Take care of yourself, both mentally and physically. But most importantly, don't let those dreams slip away from you and become regrets of missed opportunities.

knowing when to bring up the past

The past is often a delicate subject for someone who is recovering from a lifetime of mental illnesses and bad experiences, such as me. It can be very difficult to speak about, or even think of the past. It's important to know when it is the right time to think things through properly.

Sometimes we don't get a choice of when to think about the past. We are reminded of it by someone talking about it, or just a memory passing through our minds which sadly remains with us for longer than we want. This is all natural, not nice at all, but natural.

It's impossible for someone to completely undersrand your situation because you will handle it in a way that no one else would, we're all different. But, sometimes that difference can be the cause of unwanted pain. Someone may ask a question about your past or discuss a memory that you don't feel ready to think about. But once it's in your head, it's there for a little while and you can't push it away. This is why it's important for people to know when it is the right time to bring up the past. All they need to do is just simply ask for permission to bring up a topic way may possibly be sensitive. If the person declines then you need to respect that. They will allow you to talk to them about it when they are ready.

It's important to know when you can handle certain things and to not push yourself too far. Bad memories are tough, but eventually need to be dealt with, however you must only do this when you are ready. 

I've experienced many tough situations where someone simply didn't think that something may impact me so much and they brought it up as if it was a general conversation topic, and this breaks me for a little while. All I ask is that people respect others that are struggling, and don't do anything when they are not comfortable with it. 

natural emotions

Everyone has a right to be happy, sad, upset, angry, you name it, you're allowed to experience it. We have emotions for a reason, and it's best to work with them, not against them.

However, no matter what emotions you may be experiencing, there is never any use in being mean, rude or aggressive. Your emotions are your emotions and should not be unfairly pushed onto others.

Just be careful about how you speak to people. I know I am not perfect and that I often express things in a way which I wouldn't want someone to do to me, but I'm learning, and I guess that learning about ourselves is one of the most important things about having emotions.

falling back into old ways

I've been lying to myself, trying to protect myself, but I can't do it anymore. I can't lie to anyone. I'm getting bad again. I've been getting bad for a couple of months now, but I've been trying to push it away. Covering up everything with a mask of positivity that I actually started to believe. 

Honestly, I don't know what's going on. I feel like this could be explained as being just a bump in the road to recovery, but it's not a bump, I'm climbing a mountain with my bare hands. 

I feel empty, alone, lost. I'm exhausted from pretending. During the day I try to force myself to be happy and positive. I don't know whether it's for me or for everyone else, but it's happening. And every night, I crash and burn. 

A couple of my friends have tried to find out what's happened that makes my mood drop so suddenly, the only explanation I've been able to offer is 'I've run out of things to be happy about' and the worst part is, that's the most accurate thing I can say to describe it. I can only numb myself for so long and then the pain comes back and engulfs me.

Last night I spent much of the night crying on and off at nothing. I don't even remember falling asleep which is often a sign that I've blacked out. When I woke up, I was numb for about a minute and then everything came back to me. I had to fight so hard to control myself and stop the tears. I don't know why I wanted to cry, but I nearly couldn't stop myself. Before leaving for college things got worse. I had a strong urge to self harm. It has been 329 days since I last did it, so there was no way I was letting the thoughts win.

I left for college and listened to music. I walked across the bridge, no thoughts. I think that was the first time that I've been bad and not seen things. Usually I see things on my body, see the things that I want to do, and I can't escape the visions. But not today. I was safe from that agony.

I guess, although things are bad, there's always something I can look at and feel a bit positive about.  

why I am so difficult to help

I've grown up to be a strong minded person, I guess I've learned exactly how to grow from situations; I let them make me stronger, not weaker.

The only thing is, I will only let things impact me when I'm ready. I have to first understand the situation. If I don't understand the situation, the chance of it hurting me is quite high. This is where the supression comes in. I supress memories, not by choice, it just happens. I've been told that it's my mind's way of protecting me from a situation until I am ready to deal with it, but I personally see it as a form of torture.

Lost of people have told me that they would like to forget bad memories like I do, but I can't help but believe that if they experienced what I do, they wouldn't be saying that. It's not fun to forget entire sections of your life. Of course, it makes things easier in the short term, but sooner or later the memories come back. When the memories come back, there's nothing that anyone can do. 

It's like I've been put into a box, just big enough for me to sit with my knees up to my chest. The box is black except for one wall. On this wall there is a projection, a short video of the memory. It's on replay. I can try to turn away, but the projection changes which wall it is on to follow me around. Closing my eyes doesn't do much, because thats when I can hear it and feel it. I can try to cry, but nothing comes out except the occasional heavy tear that quickly falls from my face and then disappears into the darkness. 

I'm usually trapped in this box for between three hours and three weeks. Although I am not litterally trapped inside a box, I do see a projection of the memory, I do hear it and feel it when I try to visually block it. The only differene is that the 'box' is everything that surrounds me, whether it's my bedroom, a classroom or just nature. During this time of being trapped in the 'box', I find it exceptionally difficult to even begin to explain what's going on for me. I try, but no one ever knows what to say, so I end up feeling like I'm crazy and keep it all to myself. 

By keeping things to myself, no one really knows what's going on for me, so it actually makes it so difficult to help me. Even when people ask for more information of what's going on, I tend to avoid giving away anything. I know that if I talk about the memories, I'll know they are real..

I've really lost where I'm going with this. It just feels like reading through my thoughts as they come to my mind. I never really explained what I wanted to in this post. I'm sorry.

inescapable thoughts

I'd love to be able to say that recovery has been easy, and that all my bad thoughts have disappeared, but I'd be lying. The thoughts, the memories, they're still there. Usually I can control them, but sometimes it just gets too much. 

Possible trigger warning..

A few days ago I was walking home from college on my own. I have to walk over a bridge which is over a river. Usually this doesn't bother me, it used to, but I can normally get myself over it without any thoughts. However, the other day, as I took my first step onto the bridge, all the thoughts came back. I had an almost uncontrollable urge to jump. I was seeing things again, I had visions of my putting my bag down and just jumping in one swift, unstoppable move... As I walked along the bridge, I kept very close to the edge and just watched the water to assess its depth. It was perfect. There was no one around. I started to walk even more slowly, preparing for what I was about to do. It was at that moment that a cyclist came up behind me and snapped me out of the trance. I realised that that day was not the day and that I needed to get home. 

While walking I texted my friend, asking if she would be willing to see me and she agreed, she still has no idea how much just agreeing to see me helped me.

As I continued to walk home, I started to see something else. I looked down at my arms and legs and they were covered in blood, dripping it onto the floor. I knew that going home with that vision in my head would be a complete disaster. I texted my friend asking how long until she would be ready, she said about fifteen minutes. I was going to be home in five.

I got home, no one was in, I had no one to distract me. 

This was when I finally came back to reality and realised that I couldn't hurt myself. I had a friend who was willing to see me in just a few minutes so I had to keep myself safe for just that amount of time. I made some food and silently ate it as I waited for my phone to buzz telling me that I could go to the safety of my friend's house.

I narrowly escaped doing something I would regret. If that cyclist didn't go past, and if my friend didn't agree to see me, I think the possibility of me being able to say that I didn't do anything would be very slim.

I never actually told anyone what had happened, I didn't want anyone to worry that I was getting bad again. But now I just needed to open up about it... Although I am recovering, I still struggle.