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I am not broken 

With dignity stripped entirely, I uttered the words I never thought would come out of my trembling mouth.

But there I was. Saying the worst of the worst, and my mind was just.. confused.

How could anyone break trust in such a way that it completely and utterly ruins another human being? 

I didn’t think about revenge. I never thought about anything but the fact that my heart had been smashed into a million fucking sharp pieces and my brain had begun to play the tricks of PTSD on me. 

I was just always trying to wrap my head around the whole situation. 

But now.. things are different now.

I am not broken.

I am healing. 

I am not broken. 

I am shining.

I am not broken. 

I am going to be okay. 


Happiness and Depression

Although I have been depressed for as long as I can possibly remember – I am finding fleeting moments of stability, and what I assume to be happiness. 

I’ve never been a happy person. Too many mental illnesses colliding all at once, too much trauma, too many let downs in general. 

So when these feelings come on, I feel pride, as well. 

I have been through so much, and I have never really admitted that before for the sake of not wanting to be seen as an attention seeker. But it’s time to let go. 

It’s time to embrace that my life is what it is. It may be messy, it may be downright sad a lot of the time, but that’s okay. Just like it’s okay to feel this happiness, even though I’m not too sure what that feeling means yet. 

The Truth 

People often say, “it’s okay to not be okay.” but seldom know what to do when the answer is, “I’m not okay.” 

The truth is, there’s still so little knowledge of mental illness unless you yourself have walked that path, as well. 

When a person who suffers from mental illness admits they’re not okay, this is a big deal, because it takes a lot to get to the point of not lying through your teeth. 

You see, the truth fucking hurts. So when little slivers of your true emotion come out, people can have adverse reactions to what you’d originally anticipated. 

I’m talking anger, denial, and worst of all, sadness and guilt.

These are not what someone with mental illness need when they decide to open up, because it’s one of the hardest things to do in the world. But more truth, they’re normal reactions. 

I think when people reach out to another they must be fully aware that what they’re about to hear, could very well crush them. 

I’ve seen it firsthand. The look of devastation as I reveal my true thoughts and feelings – it absolutely obliterates my sense of self worth. 

Perhaps this is because I realise how truly fucked up I am. 

3 years 

Today marks three years of WordPress, for me.

This has been such a fantastic outlet, as well as a helpful tool in my recovery. 

To write, soothes the soul, it cleanses and it nourishes the mind. 

I am thankful for everyone who has ever left me a comment, liked a post, followed me, and of course read along with my journey. 

Although I have only been with WordPress for three years, my writing began long ago. Ten years, to be precise, but with WordPress I truly feel as though I can reach out to others who have similar struggles, as well as relate to the stories of them. 

Thank you. 

Spare The Bullshit

I realise that my heart is a lot more open than some others.

Trust me when I say that this is a fact, and what a painful realisation it is. 

I can be at the lowest point, in my own personal hell, but I will still make time for other people. 

Which, has seemingly, turned me into somewhat of a doormat. 

I am walked all over and I am told that what I do is not good enough, and I don’t need to have that sort of negativity, when the voices are screaming the same damn thing at me every day. 

So please spare me the bullshit, I have my own and no one else’s have to matter to me anymore. 

Anger Will Not Control Me

My fists will no longer remain clenched, 

there will be no more devilish thoughts of gruesome violence,

my mind will be at ease and my soul pure, once more.

I will no longer live on the edge. 

I will not allow anger to control me.


So imagine you’re swimming one day, everything is fine and you feel good. But then a wave hits you and sends you tumbling under water. Suddenly, it hurts to breathe, and the harder you try, the more difficult it becomes – much like any other simple task. You try to swim upward, you kick and you scream for help but no one can hear you, because you’re under water, and it feels like you’re simply not strong enough save yourself from the crashing waves of thoughts and depressive ideations. You attempt to splutter out the truth of how you feel while you drown, but to no avail. It’s as though no one can hear you. 

This is what it feels like when you’re really suffering from Depression and Anxiety disorders. Like you cannot breathe, you cannot speak, there is no one to help you and there is certainly no damn escape, no matter how hard you try. 

But know this; the ones who keep swimming despite the very real fear of drowning in mental illness, do come out on top, for they learn to swim time and time again.