it isn’t fair.

Sometimes you just have to turn off your phone,
lock yourself in a dark room,
shove headphones in your ears,
and cry your fucking eyes out.

Scream every lyric to every heart ballad you can find,
because life really sucks,
and you were dealt a shit deck of cards,
and it isn’t fair, it isn’t fair.

When the Kettle of Care Boils Over.

I am currently crying as I type this post.
Prior to being ill, I was incredibly impatient and always stressed out over the tiniest of things.
Chronic Illness forces, not teaches, you to be patient.
You really do not have a choice. You have to take everything as it comes.

My symptoms have changed my personality and love for life, but not my care for others.
I have a tendency of putting others before myself, (to the best of my ability now that I am ill), and when they don’t do the same in return or are inconsiderate, I find myself slowly boiling like a kettle. I cannot stop caring for others. It is in my nature to put others before myself, time and time again, until one person or event pushes me to my absolute limit, and I boil over.
My explosion usually ends in tears and rage.

I saw a side of myself on the night of my birthday, which I was shocked by.
It was a horrible build up to the day illness-wise.
I was with someone close to me, and had not eaten or had anything to drink all day due to the nausea. I was exhausted, and so disappointed in myself for not being able to dress up, and go out to celebrate.
I took a bath and looked in the mirror, telling myself repeatedly, “You disgust me”.
The next moments are a blur because when I came out from the bathroom, something small was said which caused me to snap.

I screamed, I cried, I hit the chest of my friend over and over again with clenched fists until they ached. My actions cannot be excused, but for what it is worth, I am tiny, and he is very much larger than me. He said it felt like a child was hitting him. I lost all colour in my face. I fell to the floor. I started shaking. My chest closed up, and I said through wheezed breaths,

“I want to die, now”.

And I picked myself up and ran to the balcony.

What happened next can only be summed up as, a struggle.
I am thankful that I had him there that night, to pull me back.

I have seen him a few times since then, but nothing had been said, until the other night he was staring at me as I laid in bed, and he started crying.
He told me how the image of me that night – pale, weak and full of rage – haunts him.

And now, knowing that I selfishly used him as my punching bag, haunts me.

The past few months have been quiet.
No more “how are you feeling” messages, or visits.
There have been a few phone calls to talk about other people’s issues. I don’t know if I should be thankful for the temporary distraction, or feel jealous because the only issue I am facing, that nobody wants to listen to, is me being unable to manage my symptoms.

My body has been riddled by nausea, dizzy spells, weakness and an inability to digest anything I put into my stomach.

Day by day passes, and loose commentary flies around about me exaggerating my symptoms.
I notice that nobody cares like they used to. They are harsher towards me.
I sit in silence and absorb.
You are fat, you are too skinny.
You are unattractive, you are lazy.
You are selfish.
You are avoiding work.
You can’t do anything right.
You haven’t tried hard enough.
You are unappreciative.

Night by night, I reflect, and I feel the boiling water rising.

After a night of 2am stomach cramps, nausea that would not subside, snappy little comments from family and friends, I have hit that point of no return, again.
But this time, there was no screaming or rage, only tears and numbness.

I don’t care anymore.
I am alone.
I am weak.
I am worthless.
I am a failure.

My symptoms have taken out everything enjoyable about life.
I don’t think that the Depression ever disappears. Sometimes it hides for a little while, whilst your mind is preoccupied by the illusion of happiness. I have noticed that my brain latches onto the tiniest amount of positive energy that it can find, anything to keep me here another second. Sometimes it lasts a few days, sometimes a few months… but as soon as that glowing ray vanishes, I fall back into my pit, and deeper than before.

I don’t want to be here just as much as you don’t want me here.
And when I disappear, I don’t want the fake apologies, or the sudden interest in my illness and what I had to battle each day. I don’t want people to pretend like they gave a fuck about me.
I am trying to find some great reason to stay here, but I can’t.
My brain is completely clouded by negative thoughts, and I am so, so angry.
I am angry with the people I have heard from, and the people I haven’t heard from.
I am angry with my family, at strangers, Doctors and Specialists, but mostly, I am angry with myself. I used to be stronger than this.

A Letter to Myself.

Dear Self,

Today is one of those bad days.
You are curled up into a ball on the floor; your tears soaking into the carpet. You are crying so hard that you heave, and you cannot bear to stand up with a fear of falling straight down. The nausea is really bad today, and you have tried everything to relieve yourself from it, with no success. We have gone from eating consistently, to not eating at all.

You are planning your Goodbye Letters in your head, and you are telling yourself that you cannot go on another second with these symptoms.

You want to feel nothing, for once, instead of everything.

You have every right to feel this way.
Life never used to be like this.
I remember when things were much simple; where you had the strength to work ten overnight shifts in a row, and overtime. Night was day, and day was night.
They asked you to work on your day off, and you said yes every single time.

You worked when you were sick, and you worked when they weren’t even paying you to work.

The days went quickly and were jam-packed.
You were driving, going on roadtrips, Sunday breakfast dates, shopping days, you slept on the beach and woke up covered in sand at 3am. You were eating as you pleased, and had a bright future in mind for yourself.

You smiled more back then.

I guess you, nor I, ever imagined that something like this could happen, and that things would drastically change in the blink of an eye.

All of the things you used to worry about – not having enough money saved, having to work, being late, the petty little arguments with people – none of it matters now. We have been faced with bigger problems.

I know your mentality is being compromised, and you think it is easier to leave and give up, but I need you to stop for a second and just breathe.

I need you to see what I see.

I see strength.
I know you hate hearing that, but you ARE strong.
I can assure you that most people would not cope as well as you are with chronic nausea, stomach pain and dizziness; not to mention being stuck behind four walls, losing your job, the endless appointments and tests, and lack of answers…

I see someone who still manages to put others before yourself.
I see someone who can still laugh, even on the crappiest of days.
I see someone who is ambitious and continues to push their body to strengthen, no matter how weak they feel.

You say that you have made no accomplishments this year, but my dear, grief has clouded your vision.
Pre-illness-you could only make toast.
In the time you have been off, you have learnt to cook many meals and desserts… things you would not have had the patience for before.
You stress less about the smaller things, whereas before, you were one giant walking stress web.

Six months ago, you couldn’t get out of bed and you were eating zero day in and day out. Today, you are walking better, and for most days, you are able to eat consistently.
You may not have travelled, you may not have graduated, you may not go out partying every week or go on adventures with friends, or be working in your dream job, BUT you have grown up quicker than most people your age and I promise you that you are wiser than they.

You appreciate the smaller things that they are too busy to see, and once all of this is over, your love for life will be greater than your hate for this illness.

I am amazed by your ability to function with these symptoms.
I am astounded by your bravery, and wish you could see how much inner strength you have. When we beat this, not if, I hope you know that you can face anything thrown your way.

I know that the symptoms have prevented you from driving, travelling alone and engaging with others, but it does not for a second mean you are selfish, lazy, weak or a disappointment.
Stop wasting your time on the people who are telling you this; the ones who don’t message you back, or make you feel unimportant.

PLEASE, stop telling yourself that you are unattractive.
Your body has been to hell and back, and considering, I think you look quite good for a sick person. You have fat on your body now, rather than being riddled with bones. Your skin may have changed, and your hair is frail and falling out, but you are still beautiful.
You are measuring yourself up to people who hide their average features behind a veil of makeup.

Now here’s a touchy topic…
You better still be listening.

You are sitting there, feeling sorry for yourself, alone, and struggling to see how someone could love you with this illness.
And you are actually repeating to yourself, “how can somebody love me with this illness?”

Nobody loves you any less. Your true friends and family know who you are and that your illness unfortunately dims your light.
They might not know what to say at times, but I promise they want you to beat this as much as you do.
And, they will help you if you simply ask for it.
They want to see that smile reappear, as much as I, and they will help you in any way that they can.

Don’t listen to anyone who has told you that you are a burden, unlovable and will be alone.

You ARE loved, and you ARE lovable whether or not you have this illness. There is someone out there who doesn’t care about driving you to appointments or waiting with you through tests; someone who will listen to you cry on the worst of days and give you a reason to smile; someone doesn’t mind if you have to stay in for the night instead of going out, and would be happy to link arms with you when you are dizzy; someone who will lie with you when you are feeling nauseous, and give you massages when your body aches; someone who knows what you can and can’t eat, and who will do thoughtful things for you just because.

You WILL get married, move out, and one day you are going to be a wonderful mother who knows the ins and outs of the medical system (and you will definitely need to know that if you end up having those three boys you are dreaming of…)

I know today is hard, and I know the past few weeks have been hard.
Do what you can, and if you have to cancel on someone to rest, then so be it.

I know you are tired of making progress and then falling backwards time and time again.
Do not feel like you have to justify yourself to anyone, or come up with answers that you don’t have.

I know that today you are struggling to find a reason to stay, and I know how alone you feel.
Do not let the anger consume you.

I know that you fear this is neverending, and you’d like to end it all yourself right now.
Do not feel rushed to achieve all at once, or to get better.

I can feel you clutching at your last straw.

We may never reach 100%, remember.
We may never receive the answers we are desperately seeking, but we must continue to try.
We still have Specialists on our side who still believe.
Medicine is only advancing.
We still have some time.

If anyone can do this, it’s YOU.
We’ll take it one step at a time, I promise, and if nobody wants to come along for the ride, we will always have each other.

Love from Me.

THIS is what Chronic Illness looks like.

You all obviously know about the irritating assumption that we are not sick, because we don’t LOOK sick.

People associate illness with common physical effects like pale skin, an agonised facial expression, weight loss, tubes coming out of our noses, a tumor or wound that is VISIBLE.

What does Chronic Illness look like?
What do our symptoms look like?

N O T H I N G.
They are I N V I S I B L E.
They cannot be seen, but are very much REAL.

So, lets set the story straight once and for all.
THIS is the face of Chronic Illness:

This is what Chronic Illness looks like.

Nauseous – Dizzy – Nerve Pain – Neck Pain – Stomach cramps.

I really encourage you to take a similar photo of yourself, and post it with the title “THIS is what Chronic Illness looks like“.

Tag me in it – reblog me – don’t steal this page and mark it as your own!

You don’t have to show your face if you would like to maintain privacy. Get creative!

Be the face for Chronic Illness, and,

help spread awareness for our cause!

When it’s not one thing, it’s the other.

The “Positives” (as some would call it) of my past two weeks, were having one of those weeks nausea free. My stomach medication allowed me to eat anything and everything in sight. I also went to my Doctor for my monthly check-up, and I have gained two kilograms.
I saw glimmers of my old self creep back in. The small improvement made was definitely a little bit exciting. I should probably be more excited, but I guess that I hoped once we hit the eight-month mark, I would have had more answers than I do now.

Baby steps, I know.

On the plus side, I also managed to go to the Grocery Store with my parents yesterday, and zoom the trolley in and out of the aisles. I’m not going to say it wasn’t a struggle to remain standing (thankfully I had the trolley to lean on), but I made it through.

The downside to my past two weeks were the side-effects I got from taking Lyrica. My dizziness hit its worse point, and I struggled with what I refer to as “brain fog”. I sat on my couch for seven days and felt completely numb, except for my neck (which was really the ONLY place I was meant to feel numb).

I can’t explain the fear there is in being as dizzy as I was. My dizziness daily usually scales at 7. This was a straight out ten.
My head spun whilst standing, sitting and lying down.
I thought that if this illness was going to kill me, it would be now.
So, even against my Specialist’s wishes, I made a conscious decision to change my dose to one tablet per night instead of four a day. To my relief, my Dizziness has subsided to its usual level of annoyance, and my brain fog has mostly cleared. I’m not sure my Specialist will be happy about this, but I am an honest believer in the term “you know your own body better than anyone else”.
I have an appointment with an Ear, Nose and Throat Specialist next week, as well as my first big meeting with the Government to organise a Disability Payment.
Both are bringing me anxiety.
I have probably seen close to fifty Specialists this year alone.
I am mentally exhausted.
Telling everyone this story, from start to finish, over and over again.
And, he’ll probably look at me like I am crazy.
I’ll probably pay him $400 to tell me that he cannot help or guide me in the right direction.
It is most likely a waste of my time, but I have to cross it off my list.
My Acupuncturist (the wise one that he is) summed it up pretty nicely today.

“Are you better? No. So, you have to seem him. You have to think of it as just another opinion”

And that I will do. There is a very slight possibility that he may be able to help.

The Government is also making my anxiety soar.
Sitting in a room, being looked over by their Doctors who are probably very narrow minded and have never come across a patient like me before.
I just don’t understand how an hour with them potentially “diagnosing” me, compares to my own Doctors and Specialists working on me for almost eight months and being unable to diagnose me.
It isn’t fair to take one glance over me and tell me that they think I am able to return to work because I appear to be well on the exterior.

Maybe they will surprise me?

Fast forward to the present, and my body is absolutely exhausted from my Osteo, Physio and Acupuncture appointments over the past three days.
My nausea has returned, as well as a worse case of the dizziness.
I also have these really great stomach cramps. I haven’t had them for at least three months.
I am stuck eating mushy food, dry crackers and sips of water.
I have noticed that after you have a rare set of good days, and the bad days return, they hit you a lot harder. I feel unable to cope. My body became somewhat adjusted to the dizzy spells and the nausea, and when they temporarily disappeared and my brain went on a happy high. I forgot what it was like to feel this… ill.

Now, set back into my reality, I don’t know how I managed before.
It seems foreign to me.
I was offered a tiny fragment of my old self, and then it was snatched.
It didn’t even last very long.
I feel robbed, and disappointed in myself… My body has shown me that it has the capability of getting better. Why can’t it just get better and not slip backwards?
I’m sitting here wondering how long it will take before I get another day where symptoms are at ease…

Someone special is taking me on a little adventure tomorrow.
I just hope I am even semi-well enough to go and to enjoy it.

When it is not one thing, it’s the other.

The Bible of Blogs.

The end of Mental Health Awareness Month is almost here, and so many of you have been asking me the question, “can you recommend a blog for me to follow for sufferers of…?”
So, this blog is all about my Bible Of Blogs for Sufferers of Mental, Chronic or Invisible Illnesses.

I encourage you to do the same,
as I am sure we have all come across different blogs that we favour.

In light of doing this, we will be:
– spreading awareness of our illnesses
– guiding new and old bloggers to the right people for help, guidance and understanding.
– uniting to help each other’s pages grow

I have spent a few days, in between illness, searching through all close-to-600 followers. I also had a Followers Malfunction, where WordPress told me I was not following anyone/then suddenly was following/then wasn’t again, so MY APOLOGIES for any notifications you may have received!

I have read, and read, and read your posts.
Let me tell you that what I came across made me laugh, brought me to tears, and left me with that “this person understands” feeling.
I wish I could put links to all of your blogs here, but as that is near impossible, I have chosen as many as my brain would allow me to for today.

I hope this is somewhat of a help.
If you feel up to it, create a list of your own.
We can really make a difference and spread awareness if we unite.

C, x.

Mine of course! (hehe)

See the Follow Button up above!

Nikki, and Heather, both provide blog entries about their rollercoaster ride with their Chronic Illnesses. They are both more than happy to reach out to those suffering, and provide help where they can.
Rowena is an all-rounder. She has knowledge in many topics/areas, and is also a sufferer of Chronic Illness. She is a mother to children suffering with Chronic Illness also. She definitely gives a great outlook on suffering from a parental point of view.
Rebekah, and Sarah, run blogs about their journey through living with POTS. Rachel, is newly diagnosed, and has just begun writing about her journey. All three writers are extremely talented and have wonderful insight into symptoms, relief techniques and what it is like living with Chronic Illness.
Rhosyn blog writes entries about the ups and downs and everything in between when dealing with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome.
Vix writes about her journey living with Multiple Sclerosis. This woman’s drive for life, whilst suffering every single day, is incredibly inspirational and definitely worth a read.
Rebecca has a blog dedicated to her journey through living with Irritable Bowel Syndrome (IBS). Incredibly insightful and easily relatable blog for fellow sufferers out there!
Really simple, yummy recipes for those suffering from IBS, or who are struggling for Gluten Free meal ideas!
Kate’s posts are written about her ‘food issues’ and struggles with a Borderline Eating Disorder. She will make you laugh, and cry. She is extremely down-to-earth and honest about her day-to-day struggles.

Paul runs a fantastic blog about Mental Health where you can submit pieces of your own, read through poetic stories and even reach out to a community of people who are suffering all the same.
Zoe writes an inspiring blog about a wide range of topics which include her struggles in dealing with; gender, race, politics, love, abuse and identity.
Don writes a very honest blog about his days suffering from Bipolar, Anxiety and Depression. He is absolutely lovely and is willing to offer his time to chat to fellow sufferers.

These extremely talented men write the most beautiful poetry you will ever read.
I promise, if you need a distraction, their pages are definitely it.

I Believe You.

I went through my last lot of tests today.
The Royal Eye and Ear Hospital for Inner Ear Testing – checking for Balance Disorders.

I know that other sufferers tend to say, “I went in with no expectations”.
Not true.
You went in with a tiny fragment of hope.
It may have been as small as a single piece of glitter, but it was still something.
You don’t have to pretend to be strong to me, or anyone else.
Be weak.
Cry about it.
Scream about the unfairness.
Punch and kick until your heart is content.
Just don’t lie and tell me that you are completely content with coming out with no answers.

If you lose all hope, you lose yourself entirely.

I had hope that today’s tests would close the curtain on my living nightmare.
I, as usual, came out with no answers.
I cannot tell you how disappointed I felt.
My heart sunk, my soul sunk – worse than any of the times before.
The final tests after months of exhaustion.
The Lady was lovely, though. She sat me down and said, “there is something called Functional Disorders. Things we as Doctors cannot see. You may be apart of the rarity of people who suffer from them. Some Doctors don’t believe what cannot be seen. But don’t worry,” she told me. “I believe you“.

In my six months of appointments, she was the first person to say those words.

I didn’t cry until I got home.
It hit me all at once.
I was holding onto the sink, trying to wash the dishes one at a time and incredibly slowly. As I scrubbed each utensil, I felt my head spinning. My weight leant on the sink entirely. My legs felt like jelly and my eyes began to roll. I had to keep telling myself, “not many to go, not many to go”.
My body has deteriorated, and I have no control over it, nor know why it has recently given up on me.

I cannot describe the dizziness in any other way than, my entire world spins when I am standing and my legs literally turn to jelly. I feel like I am falling. I am constantly nauseous too, and my stomach is refusing to digest properly. I am a mess.

Every test result has been negative.
Every Specialist I have seen sees nothing, therefore there isn’t a problem and the Nothing “cannot be managed”.

I can’t even stand on my own anymore.
Just fucking toughen up! I screamed at my inner self. Just show me where the problem is!
The tears welled and the small lump in my throat turned into a melon.

The life I had pictured for myself and the one I am currently living are very different.
Disability Pension fast approaching at twenty-two, no job, no career prospect, no savings, no partner, no travel experience, minimal friends, stuck inside these four walls, missing out on living, stuck in concrete with no answers.

The nightmare that never ends, and I can’t help but ask myself, why me?
If not me, it would have been somebody else.
I wouldn’t want anyone to suffer with this unknown disease inside of their body. I wouldn’t want them to watch all they had worked hard for, crumble beneath their fingertips.

I am exhausted and emotional.
I don’t want to hear that I am strong.
I find it insulting.
I’ve noticed that everyone likes strong people because they don’t ask for anything.
That doesn’t mean that they don’t need anything.

I need to be able to manage this.
I don’t know the point of this post tonight. I apologise for any grammatical errors as I am writing amidst tears. I am terrified of what happens tomorrow onwards. I am terrified.

I don’t know where to go from here.
The light at the end of the tunnel is now dim.

I just want you to know that if you are suffering from something similar, something invisible…

I believe you.

Sleep On It

I was lucky enough to be asked by my good friend Paul to write a piece for his Blog Series, “Coping: This Is Who We Are“. Writers are asked to create a piece entailing their struggles with Mental Illness and how they are able to cope on a daily basis.

My piece, “Sleep On It“, was published on his site yesterday.

When you look back on your teenage years, you usually have the memories of parties, being social with friends, planning future career ideas, finding your way through puberty…

I remember illness.

I was forced to grow up quickly, at a young age.

While my friends were having their birthday parties, I was at home on the floor; crouched in a ball with my mum trying to feed me Parachoc through my wails.

While everyone began working their first jobs, I was in an Adolescent Clinic for sufferers of Eating Disorders.

During Graduation, I had Glandular Fever and was bedridden.

My first year of university had many absences, as I was diagnosed with Grade II Reflux Oesophagitis.
 Depression was, inevitable.

And this depression eventually led to take the pain out somewhere.

I was about fifteen when I carved symbols into my forearms and wrists. I thought that if I was going to have them forever, they might as well have been interesting to look at. I remember when my Mum first saw the scars. It was a few months later and I was in hospital. The Nurse put an IV Drip into my arm, and when she left the room, my Mum caught a glimpse of the scars from the corner of her eye.

She gripped my arm between her fingers and hissed, “Never, ever do that again”.

And, I didn’t for a long time.

Her blazing eyes were enough to burn straight through me. I was afraid of her finding them again.

Fast forward a few years.

I had made it into University, was in a relationship and was eating anything I wanted. I was at the peak of my health. (For those who have chronic stomach problems, you would understand when I say that we all crave something we are not allowed to have. Mine was Curry).

There was not a dark thought in my mind.

I thought I had been cured.

I felt invincible.

Little did I know that Depression never really leaves. It waits, and even if you have years of happiness and health, it will return during your slightest weak point. It latches onto a part of you that is uncertain, vulnerable and misunderstood, and then it will literally feed off of you until you are worn out.

Fast forward another two years.
 Things were very different for me. Changes had come, and I was not good with adjusting to change.
I was in a new relationship – one that was challenging and causing me a lot of unnecessary stresses.
I had chosen to focus on my new passion – Childcare.

As I was balancing fulltime study and fulltime work in a Children’s Centre my immunity was shockingly low. Every flu, Gastro Bug, rare disease that the children had – I got too. I put work and study before my friends and before my family, and things progressively got worse.

I woke up one morning, with Shingles in my neck and scalp, and I was bedridden for three weeks. In this time, I saw a glimmer of its return within my nerve pain, telling me that it was here to claim what was rightfully owed. I shrugged the feeling off, and returned to work… pushing my body to extremities.
A month later, with nothing much changed, I woke up with Shingles again. This time, I was out for four months. I had a complete nervous system shutdown. I began cutting myself again. There were some days where I would lie on the floor in my room for hours, just staring at the wall, crying.

I felt so much, yet I felt nothing

It returned during that experience; swallowing me with a whisper.

One, two, three, four, five;
Once I caught a Cass alive.
Six, seven, eight, nine, ten;
I won’t let her leave again.
Why won’t I let her go?
Because she needs to suffer so.
Come to war with all your might,
but I won’t let you win this fight.

I did fight.

I fought until the end in December 2014. I woke up a few weeks before Christmas, and was unable to move. I had Chronic Dizziness, intense Stomach Cramps and constant Nausea. The Depression was having a field day with all of this negativity. But when I thought that this was as bad as it could get, the Anxiety attacks began.

I would be happy one moment and then absolutely terrified the next. My throat would close up, I would have difficulty swallowing and breathing and it felt as though I had a vice in my chest… ripping my muscle wide open. I stopped sleeping, eating, feeling anything but the symptoms, and the numbness brought on by the Depression.

I told my partner every day that I wanted to die;

that I would be much better off feeling nothing.

But I built up the courage to tell my Doctor.

Do you know what he said to me?

“There is no shame in having Depression and Anxiety,

considering all you have been through”.

If you are a sufferer, you would know that admitting that you have the problem is one of the hardest things to do. I gave him every excuse.

I am fine.

I’m bad, but not that bad.

I am not sure about you, but I feared anti-depressants and anxiety medication. I did not want to be addicted to something, or have the choice of abusing it. I refused it time and time again, until one day I had no choice.

I am still coming to terms with my suffering.

Due to my other health issues at the moment, I have decided to steer clear from the anti-depressants and anti-anxiety medication. I don’t recommend that choice to many. My circumstances make me feel that until I can manage the Invisible Illness and the symptoms that accompany it, the Depression and Anxiety will subside.

I will not tell you that I am miraculously cured and that there is a light at the end of the tunnel.
I will not tell you to not find relief from the darkness.
I will also not tell you that I know entirely how to cope with this.
But, what I will tell you is to sleep on it.

The advice was given to me by an online Psychologist. She told me that for each time I wanted to leave, to sleep on it/wait twelve hours. And if you wake up feeling the same way, sleep on it again. Find the tiniest bit of happiness in your life and hold onto it with the tightest grasp. My happiness was very small. Breathing the fresh air, feeling sunlight on my skin, sitting in a room with scented candles…but small as it may have been it kept me going.

Most importantly, you need to know that there is no shame in having Depression or Anxiety.
 There is no shame in asking for help, or telling your story.
 There is no shame in writing a post that expresses your negative feelings.
 We need an outlet, or else it continues to eat away at us.
 I know that most people live in the shadows of Mental Illness.
 We fear what it will do to our minds – that it will consume us.
 We fear the reaction from others – being seen as weak.
 We fear the medication – what it will do and the addiction.

I still have a long journey ahead.

And it is not going to be a casual walk with Toto down the Yellow Brick Road.
 I will continue to suffer through the bad days and nights.
 I will find every reason as to why I should give up.
I will struggle with managing the Invisible Illness and loneliness.
 But for each time that I feel this way, I will tell myself to sleep on it. 
I don’t know what will happen in the future,
 but today,

I choose to stay.


Nominated for the Very Inspiring Blog Award.

I am so overwhelmed with gratitude to my followers who think of me as inspirational. To Nicole, thank you for the nomination.

I am busy working on a piece for my good friend Paul’s series “Coping: this is who we are”. The piece is based on my struggle with Depression, Anxiety and Illness. Paul runs the page Dear Hope, (see link below) for people suffering from Mental Illnesses. He is a great advocate for our cause. I am honoured to have been asked to write a piece for his site, and cannot wait for you all to read it!!! (be patient, hehe)

Thank the person who nominated you for the award.
Add the logo to your post.
Nominate ten (10) bloggers you admire and inform them of the nomination.
I nominate..


Celebratory Vlog!

Indisposed & Undiagnosed hit 500 Followers!
I cannot explain how appreciative I am of all of your feedback, words of strength and guidance. I have made a few close friends, and have been inspired to write again.
And in celebration of this, I made my first Thank You Vlog.
Excuse my shyness.
Screens are much easier to hide behind.

Keep reading, writing & spreading positivity X