Hiya everyone! Just before I get into this post, I thought I’d mention that I recently started a Youtube channel! I upload every Sunday (and maybe have some surprise videos as and when) so chances are, you’ve missed a cheeky upload! Please go and subscribe and show me love because it’s scary business!
This one is gonna be super personal and I know what you’re thinking, “Sophie you post about mental health already, how can it be any more personal?!”. Well the answer is, because I’m talking directly about MY mental health and not just general mental health talk.
It’s been six years since I was diagnosed with anxiety and depression – and god knows how long I was struggling beforehand. I remember starting self harm and my disordered eating way back in 2011, when I was in year eight so I was probably 11 or 12. My entire childhood has been taken over my mental illnesses and I thought I’d talk about my life since recovery began and what’s been happening since then. So here’s a trigger warning for all that stuff, I do go deep into it so yeah! I saw something similar over on Rosie’s blog so check her out as she prompted this post!
I vaguely remember this year because everything was so bad. I do recall getting diagnosed on Valentines Day and getting my first lot of anti-anxiety medication. What prompted my referral to the doctors was my head of year noticing that I was having several panic attacks a day and she thought something had to be done about it. I used to think she was a lovely person, but looking back she wasn’t very nice. Several panic attacks a day and I was self harming on a daily basis at this point. What’s upsetting is I didn’t think anything was wrong with what I was doing, I thought everything was what a normal teenager would do. I was doing anything to just hurt myself; cutting, hitting myself, hitting my head off of walls, you name it I did it.
This was the worst year for me I think. I was so numb and I just did anything to feel pain. Self harming wasn’t good enough for me anymore and I resulted in starving myself – both because I had it in my head that I was disgusting and because I just wanted to feel any sort of pain. The starving fuelled me in some kind of backhanded way and I slowly started dropping off the pounds. The saddest thing was that no one noticed. No one noticed I was struggling and this was just fuelling my hatred for myself. Why am I even here if no one is noticing what I’m doing? Looking back, I must’ve known in some way that my actions were bad ones, because I was getting angry at myself that no one was caring about me.
I got put on a different medication for my depression at this point and these just numbed me on a whole new level. I just remember being a vacant, empty shell of a person. My mother died in this year too which also just added to the fire. I had no one. Sure, I had my other family members and some friends but I was just finding any excuse to hate myself and life. A memory I have ever so slightly in my head is being on Skype with a friend and slightly out of frame I was cutting myself and taking a handful of paracetamol so they didn’t see. How fucked is that? I don’t know what possessed me to take more than the prescribed dosage at the time – my mind is telling me to ease the pain of the self harm but I know that probably wasn’t the reason.
All I remember of this year was sadness and isolation. I didn’t want friends because I didn’t want to hurt anyone when I eventually died. I was too scared to actually kill myself so I attempted in subtle ways. A little careless crossing roads. A little too many anti-depressants here and there. Just anything. Thankfully, present me is so happy nothing worked because 2017 me is still alive and kicking. I also came off my anti-depressants here because I kept lying to the doctors saying I was getting better. I regret this so much. This is when everything got worse. So much worse. I must add I was on a waiting list for therapy from my diagnosis, still didn’t get any. More of this to come.
I remember this year being partially a lot happier. I think this was the year for self love and body positivity to take a storm on Twitter and I loved it. I loved putting my energy into something positive. What was toxic is I did just that, I pushed my depression to one side and just left it. I should have got help and dealt with it. It was also this year (the first half) that I got semi diagnosed with BPD. I say semi because they said they were “pretty sure” I had it but they didn’t want to diagnose me properly until I was 18 and out of puberty. I started my blog mid 2016 too. I think this truly helped me a lot because I had a positive thing to focus on and vent into. I have deleted a lot of my old posts because they were either terribly written or just too sad and although I love to be honest here, they just weren’t me. You’re a top reader if you’ve been here that long hahaha.
The year for true recovery. I say that because I did technically recovery in 2016 but I relapsed early 2017 from the fake recovery I did the year before. As I said previously, I pushed my depression to one side and left it, this all came crashing back into my life around March time. I also relapsed with eating problems around this time too which I am still struggling with but I’m getting there. I finally got therapy this year too! Can you believe how long I got left to one side? It still baffles me that I was just left to cope with my problems but at least I’m finally getting help. I take my medication. Go to college. Eat yummy food. Attempting to get truly happy, which to be honest with you all, I don’t think I’ll be getting any time soon but I will get there. Mental illness is a battle and half but I’m now willing to fight it. I am not just my mental illness though. I am Sophie and I have my own little set of quirks regardless of how ingrained my mental health conditions are within my personality.
Hahahahaha how funny. I said I finally got therapy in 2017 but that’s far from the truth. I had my induction/assessment and that’s it. I’m still waiting for my actual therapy. I had my assessment in October 2017 and they “treated” me as an emergency case but I’ve heard nothing yet. I’m thinking I’m just being neglected AGAIN but that’s just part and parcel with being ill. I don’t quite understand why they keep doing this because I know I am ill and I know I deserve help but I’m just not getting it. I’m thinking of just trying to recover on my own again, but how it went last time didn’t fill me with much hope. I don’t know.