daily prompts · life · love · my story · poetry · relationships · series · Uncategorized · writing


It wasn’t hard to be tender
to trace your lips with my finger
and sink into your skin.
It wasn’t hard to curve my body
against yours
and melt into the other.
It wasnt hard to forget time
and space,
my hands running aimlessly through your hair.
It wasn’t hard to open my heart
and spirit to the softness,
gentleness of your careess.
It wasn’t hard to love you.

life · my story · Uncategorized · writing
“Writers remember everything…especially the hurts. Strip a writer to the buff, point to the scars, and he’ll tell you the story of each small one. From the big ones you get novels. A little talent is a nice thing to have if you want to be a writer, but the only real requirement is the ability to remember the story of every scar.
Art consists of the persistence of memory.”
-Stephen King.
anxiety · biploar disorder · daily prompts · depression · life · mental health · mental illness · my story · poetry · series · Uncategorized · writing


When did you become so distant?
When did your eyes become empty, so devoid of feeling, so
When did you harden your heart,
and your mind?
Or build walls to keep yourself
and outside, out?
When did you isolate and repress
each memory, each caress?
When did you cast aside each whisper or promise?
When did you chose not to listen
or love?
When did you stray?
When did I lose you?
When did you lose yourself?
When did you become distant?

<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/distant/”>Distant</a&gt;


anxiety · biploar disorder · depression · life · mental health · mental illness · motivation · my story · self help · series · Uncategorized · writing

Anxiety pt1

Lots of people who struggle with anxiety, depression and other mental health issues feel as though they have felt this way for a long time, or cannot remember feeling any other way. It’s often hard to pinpoint when it began or how it even started.

Personally, I vividly remember being 8 years old, lying in bed one night and experiencing a terrible panic attack that would lead to many more throughout the years.

In my young brain, I had absolutely no idea what was happening, why I was feeling this way or how to explain it. I remember waking up one night with a feeling of intense fear, and I couldn’t breathe. It felt as though my throat had closed up, or that there was something large and obstructive lodged there, stopping any air getting through. I recall lying in my purple pajamas gasping for air and thinking that I was going to suffocate and die.

These attacks happened periodically over the next few weeks and months. I kept quiet about it though, for even in my 8 year old brain I knew that what was happening to me was not normal, and I was afraid that as a child, nobody would take me seriously. I likened it to the period of time when I was convinced that there was an Ancient Egyptian mummy in my wardrobe, using it as a sarcophagus and plotting to get me in the night as I slept. I had confessed my fears to my parents and both had assured me that I was being ridiculous, and that there was nothing there. I didn’t want to be made to feel foolish again.

And so I silently suffered for years with panic attacks in the dark of the night. These reached a peak when I was around 11, and my parents told myself and my younger brother that we would be moving. Not only moving house, but moving countries! This created a renewed sense of anxiety and helplessness within me. Not only was the prospect of moving incredibly daunting, but I would be leaving all of my family and friends behind to start a new life with my parents and brother in a strange new place.

Again, I remember being told not to worry and not to be silly, and that we were headed on a great-and-not-scary-at-all-adventure. But on the inside I was terrified. My internalised fear brought on an entirely new onslaught of anxiety and panic attacks that would usually happen at night. I would go to bed every night dreading the moment that I would wake, unable to move and unable to breathe.

I definitely believe that this was the start or at least the first manifestation of what I would learn at age 15 as generalised anxiety disorder and later at age 17 as bipolar disorder. I firmly believe that this is something that I have carried with me for most if not all of my life.

Anxiety, depression, and mental illnesses are a huge burden that affect so many different people for different reasons, and at different points of their life. Whatever age or stage of your life, whatever your situation, IT IS OKAY to ask for help. Too many of us feel afraid to reach out, and end up suffering in silence. Please, if you’re reading this, stay strong. If you’ve stuck with me for this long, don’t be afraid to ask for help, don’t be afraid to say you’re not okay. And don’t be afraid to share your story. Thanks for reading.

life · mental health · mental illness · motivation · self help · Uncategorized

Tough love motivation.

As someone who has been at the hell end of rock bottom, the topic of mental health is very close to me and something I feel very strongly about. Like one of many whom struggle with mental illness, I know how it feels to be anxious, or depressed, or paranoid, or hopeless. And luckily for me, I know how it feels to be in recovery and how it feels to have good days.

What really frustrates me about lots of people around me, is how easily people seen to throw around the word mental health. Of course, everyone has different struggles, experiences and things that trigger them. And it’s not for me to judge them for that.

But what really gets to me is when someone constantly complains about being depressed, sad, lonely and so on but does NOTHING about it. Instead, their actions and behaviour actually allows and encourages them to feel that way.

If you consistently surround yourself with people who have no interest in you, or anything in common with you, or who have no investment in your relationship, YOU ARE GOING TO FEEL ALONE. If you choose these people and isolate yourself from people who really care and you have tried to help, then you are NOT going to feel supported. If you choose to always drink your worries away and wake up in bed with a stranger, if you choose to work your body to the point of exhaustion, if you choose to devalue yourself and cast aside your own basic needs, you are going to feel miserable, you are going to feel low, you are going to feel at your worst.

BUT THERE IS ALWAYS HOPE. There is always a way to get better!

BUT you are not going to get anywhere, you are not going to be able to recover, you are not going to come back from this dark place, unless you CHANGE. Until you make the active decision to change, until you make the active decision to move away from destructive behaviours and toxic people, until you make the active decision to ask for help, you are going to be stuck in this miserable, vicious cycle.

YOU HAVE the capacity to change. YOU HAVE the ability to get better. Grasp onto hope, reach out to those you need, ask for help, be proactive, and one day, you’ll get there.

Be strong.