justaoifethings

The following is an extract of a piece I wrote in 2013, and by the date, it was a few weeks before I was diagnosed with depression. I feel as someone who is recovering from depression, it can be hard to fully express what it can feel like, especially as I haven't been in such a dark place for at least a year. But this is what it feels like. "Wed 24/08/13 Um, I didn't feel sad, like yesterday, or angry, like a couple of weeks ago. I felt... empty. I don't like feeling empty. Like something may trigger a smile but I didn't feel happy. At least when I feel sad, things can make me feel happy too. I don't like feeling empty. I don't know whether it was some 'cleansing' thing from all my crying last night. But I don't like it. Yesterday I was sad and ANXIOUS. Today, I felt sick and empty. I smile on the outside, because I know something makes me smile and makes me happy,  but it's like I can't feel it. And it unnerves me. I felt a bit better...

Honestly? I hate a lot of body positivity campaigns. Because a lot of them don't promote body positivity, not to everyone. Body types have become a fashion trend, which is ridiculous. We can't change our body types. Our weight can increase and decrease, but why has it become popular to drastically change you weight in relation to trends? In the 90/00's, being stick thin was the "it" thing. Bones poking out from under the skin with little flesh was beautiful. That's not healthy, that's underweight, sick. Of course, some people are naturally underweight, which is fine. But a lot of people that we looked up to as a society starved themselves to reach our idea of beautiful. It encouraged us to do the same. Now, people seem to be angry at thin people. I'm rather thin. I've been told to eat more, that I'm anorexic, that I'm not a real woman. Now, a trend of being overweight (not curvy, overweight) is popular. Yes, again, some people are over...

An organisation set up by Jim Breen, where thousands of people cycle through Ireland every year, to break the cycle of suicide. Cleverly placed pun. Today, the lovely Mr Breen came to my school and talked to all seven hundred plus of us. In the back, wearing a disgustingly bright orange shirt in support (and feeling decidedly Dutch), I was struggling not to cry. Not that he was being morbid. He didn't delve into details of his depression, or any gruesome details of suicide. He spoke in such a way that was amazing. He spoke to us in a way that reached all levels of understanding in relation to mental health. He was able to educate those who have never experienced a mental monster, without boring them, or frightening them off the topic. Though, even with such sensitivity, he was able to touch those who had suffered mental illness. It was like a little nod to us. We knew we were understood, that he understood. For me, that is always extremely emotional. For someone to understa...

If you've read my blog before, you will have noticed my "Dear Becky" series . To amend any confusion, Becky is my GAD (anxiety). A mental illness. It's an evil entity, but it only fights for its own survival. No-one could really say that's wrong, as that's what we all do. But when a survival method becomes destructive, it's hated and loathed. 'Becky' seems like such a trivial name to give something so dark. They say giving something a name gives it power, and that's why I held off. But when the name was christened, the power was thrown onto me. I didn't feel weak anymore. I was able to take control. Then Becky wasn't such a dark entity anymore. She was still strong, capable of corrupting my mind, taking over my body, paralysing me. But I had grasped some control. I was determined to fight for my own survival, as Becky had fought for hers. She had fought long and hard and was no stranger to overkill, but with the simple act of nam...

Exams. Say this to any person with an anxiety disorder, and our hearts rise to our throats whilst beating at an uncomfortably rapid pace. It's not like the normal exam stress most people get, because us anxious folk find that level of nerves normal. I could try and put it in proportions for people who don't have an anxiety disorder, but I honestly think it's almost impossible to imagine if you haven't experienced it yourself. Personally, I find exams extremely difficult. From class tests to state exams, they all cause that little ball of panic inside me to enlarge. So much so, I didn't do the Junior Cert, the first state exam you do in Ireland. Even though I didn't do any exams for a period of my life, the last two years have been a huge learning curve in how to deal with exams. Though these tips might not always be easy, as a person with GAD, I can at least vouch that they work for me. 1; Don't Panic About Panicking I find that I get anxious over th...

I'm stuck in my last few months in school. The one person I know who truly cares about me is over 800 miles away. I have friends, but I know I dont make them smile when they see me. I know they don't miss me when I don't see them for weeks. Most don't make any effort to make any contact with me apart from my best friend. She wasn't in school today and I genuinely felt rather disliked. I felt like I was just intruding on other people's space and inconveniencing them. Forced laughs and smiles ensued. Details of social gatherings came out. I smiled, nodded, asked questions. But in my head, I asked, Why was I never invited? Yes, my friends know I struggle with anxiety and being social, but that doesn't mean I don't want to go out. It doesn't mean I don't want to talk to people, to see friends, to feel part of something. How will I ever cope with social events if I'm never given the chance? I don't know what I do wrong. What about me is ...

I am one of the 75% of abuse victims that has no physical marks to prove it. I have been subject to emotional and mental abuse. I didn't know for a long time. Growing up, I thought it was normal. Though, today, I want to talk about the aftermath of emotional abuse, rather than my personal details. The aftermath leaves a broken person, even if we don't realise it. Abuse changes a person from the inside out. It changes fundamentally who you are. When I was very young, I was an outspoken, extroverted child. Then, due to abuse, I grew into an anxious, self depreciating child. Sometimes when you say emotional or mental abuse, people brush it off. "He didn't hit you?" "Well.. no.." "Then what could be have done that was so bad?" And that's a hard question to answer, after. You surpress memories, fuzz out details. The aftermath is greatly learning to come to terms with what happened. To learn to accept yourself. To accept that, yes, you ar...