Tag: personal

Posted in Advocacy, Personal Growth

Being Vulnerable

Posted on by Millie :)

Thought I’d share something a little different today. The text below is directly copied from ruminations in my diary about being vulnerable (specifically online). Half formed thoughts and unanswered questions, which is kind of the point of what I was writing about – allowing an ‘unfinished’ image of self to be seen. I’ve thought about it more and this quote in particular resonated with me: ‘Vulnerability is the least celebrated emotion in our society’ ~ Mohadesa Najumi. I’m a growing, changing person whose views will inevitably change, but I don’t think I want to live holding back because I may think differently in the future. All we’ve got is now right? So this post is a little less about mental health, and more about the process of learning to be a mental health advocate (if I can allow myself that title!). Please enjoy this copy of my wandering thoughts:

‘I think I naturally ‘overshare’ a lot, though keep some things very hidden. And it’s part defence mechanism, but also part not understanding what’s meant to be hidden. I don’t see my ‘personal life’ as any more personal or precious just because it’s mine. It doesn’t really bother me if more people know, in fact sometimes that makes it more special to me. But is that just a need for validation? Or am I broken, or missing something – because I don’t seem to understand the idea of personal life in the way the messaging of the world does??

And also, of course I’m afraid of judgement. The biggest fears being that sharing I’ve had problems with alcohol – for example – will stop me getting a job in the future. But if no one speaks openly about these things then they remain something to be feared or judged. Right? Social media is so often used to show the ‘end product’ of healing, discovery, creation etc… the polished, acceptable version. But that’s not life! I’m ok being a flawed, growing person. I have to be because I always will be. I want to show that too. 

But is there a right and wrong way to do that? Or is that just more expectations? Or is social media in fact not suitable for that? Of course it will always be just a snapshot of life – does that mean we cannot snapshot the vulnerability too? Indeed – what is vulnerability? I feel we live in a culture where we are afraid to make mistakes, especially in changemaking settings. But mistakes are a part of life. It’s all very confusing, but I don’t want to be afraid of the journey of figuring it out. I choose to move forwards with love and acceptance.’

Posted in Mental Health, Personal Growth

Letter To A Younger Me

Posted on by Millie :)

Hey sweetie, 

I’m writing you this letter because you’ve been on my mind a lot lately. And the thing is, I know you won’t actually read it, you can’t, I can’t actually travel back and give it to you. So there’s no real point in me giving you advice; any advice I do write is, I suppose, more of a reminder for me now – born from the gifts you gave me just by keeping going. Yeah, this letter isn’t really for you. It’s for me now, or us now. To heal a little bit and reflect in a way that doesn’t consume us back to where you are. If that makes any sense? 

I want to comfort you. I want to hug you, hold you tight, and whisper ‘I’ve got you’. Which is something to remember when you feel like the worst person ever, because eventually we’re able to look back and show ourselves compassion. I know it hurts. And I know you feel really lonely, I know. 

I think I’m writing this to you at about age 13, maybe just turned 14. Right as all the mental health stuff really took off, and before you’d gone through enough of it to have any perspective on it. It was all new and you had no reason to think it wouldn’t last forever. But, hey, spoiler alert – it doesn’t last forever. I won’t lie to you, it does get worse. And then maybe worse again. And again. But there’s this magic process you haven’t come across yet, where even though in some ways it gets worse, it never feels quite as bad as that very first time. Because you’re growing and learning and after you survive it once you always know, deep down inside of you, that you’re going to survive it again. And you’re going to learn all these little skills – and big skills! – that help you get through. You’re going to be ok. Maybe not always, but you are going to be ok. 

I would say please don’t drink, but if you’re 13/14 it’s already too late for that. So I’ll say this instead: you know how you always knew, from when you were really little, that you didn’t want to drink? And you were adamant that you never would, and you always thought if you did it wouldn’t end well, but you didn’t know why? Well, that was your gut instinct, and it was a good one. Learn to listen to your gut – it very rarely serves you wrong. So I know you’ve already had a drink, and done some other things, and I know it feels really great right now. I also know I can’t change what happened (or is going to happen, from your perspective). So I’ll say enjoy it while you can. Enjoy it while it’s fun and have those memories that we treasure. The world is a confusing place; it’s a paradox and time is a funny thing – things can be both good and bad. But listen, when it gets too much, know there is hope. Know that this isn’t going to be forever, and you are going to be ok again, I promise. I promise you the madness it’s going to cause is not going to rule your whole life. And I promise you that one day you’ll actually be grateful for it, strange as that may seem. 

But that’s a few years away yet anyhow. For now it might be more relevant to say that food isn’t the enemy and that you are allowed to take up space. You are allowed to exist and feel and show that you feel. I know right now a lot of your time is taken up thinking about food, and actually you don’t even think that’s a problem yet. Well, you’ll figure it out. There’s a lot of cycles and waves in this life, and you’re gonna ride every one of them out. And you’re not going to do it alone. 

In a few months you’re going to meet this amazing person – she’s a bit crazy. I’d like to say thank you for trusting your gut instinct that first day you met her; the one that says ‘this person gets me’. She does. She’s going to help you. And that’s also going to unleash a whole load of other sh*t in your head because once you open the floodgates of emotion, it’s hard to close them. But you’re not going to be alone. Lean into the people who help you, even when it feels uncomfortable and you’re ashamed to do it, because one day you’re going to be able to show them it was worth it. You are going to meet like-minded, supportive people, and make true deep friendships. Loneliness isn’t going to go away completely, I doubt it ever does, but slowly you’re going to learn to make connections and redefine what that means for you. It’s a process we’re still going through – and we’ve come to appreciate it’s actually kind of a wonderful thing that learning is lifelong. You never stop growing. 

I want you to know that I forgive you. I forgive you. All the unforgivable things that make you think there’s no point, the whirlwind of self-destructive hate that spirals out to others – I forgive you for all of it. You are doing the best you can. And one day you’re going to be able to do better. And in 5,10,15 years you’ll be able to do better again! So I not only forgive you, but I thank you for trying so damn hard to keep going when it all seems impossible. 

If I could actually give this letter to you, the one thing I would probably most like to say is that you’re autistic. Surprise! You’re going to find out in about two years and it’s going to make a whole lot of sense and it’s going to change your life. It’s going to be a catalyst in helping you to understand yourself and learn to exist in this world. Because you’re not broken, you’re living in a world that wasn’t built for you. So when in a few months the whole world comes crashing in around you and you can’t be the perfect A* student you built your identity around (don’t worry, it’s actually a blessing to get to rebuild your sense of self and be able to do other things), know that you are allowed to express your needs. You are allowed to be tired and burnt out and unable to carry on at that level without support or understanding. You are allowed to take up space – I’ve said it once, I’ll say it again. 

Ok, what else would you like to know? We’re still obsessed with Carrie Fisher. You were right, we do have a developing mood disorder. Also anxiety, a lot of it. Oh! You’re going to act! You’re going to see your dreams becoming reality and it’s going to feel even better after all this hurt because you’ll understand how precious it really is. You’re actually quite funny, and it wouldn’t hurt you to trust that you can lean into your comedy every now and then. You write a lot, including a lot of poetry (we like poetry now). You went around Europe on your own for 2 months at 17, just like we’d always dreamed! You run a mental health space, have been on a podcast, won an award. We’re still gay. So yeah, you’re ok. You’re not perfect, no one is, so it’s ok to stop chasing that idea of perfection. And you don’t need to do crazy, harmful things to gain other people’s approval and affection. Laughter is the key to making it through rough times – you have to be able to find life funny. Oh and also – not everyone can hear colour?? We were 15 by the time we realised that! 

I love you, always, through all of it. You’ve got this, even when it feels like you don’t. And I’ll be waiting right here for you in a few years, 

Love, 

You.

Posted in Advocacy, autism

Ugly Autism

Posted on by Millie :)

As always when talking about autism, I want to remind everyone that autism is not a mental illness. It is a type of neurodivergency; this basically means as autistic people our brains think and process information differently to the ‘norm’ that is expected in the world. However autistic people are more likely to suffer with mental health issues, largely in part to the fact that we are living in a world that isn’t built for us. I’ve talked about an overview on autism acceptance before – which you can read here – but today I wanted to discuss the complexity of an autistic experience and how as more people get involved in autism acceptance and advocacy (which is an amazing thing that I am thrilled to see!) we must keep in mind the spectrum of experiences and therefore the complexity of the necessary solutions.

Sometimes my autism isn’t pretty. I can still fit into the world as I am expected to, but that comes with effort which often goes unseen or under-appreciated. I can do this reasonably easily compared to some, and this is in part due to other aspects of my identity (such as my race) and the supportive people who surround me. You can view this as lucky or not; I think in a way it is unfortunate. It’s unfortunate that I have to manipulate the very essence of the way I think in order to fit into systems I often have no desire to engage with in the first place. I think it’s unfortunate that we can even frame this as ‘lucky’ because that just points to how painful life is for those who can’t, and how this pain is worse than the struggle of concealing one’s true self. While I do frame my autism as my superpower sometimes, I do not believe in the rhetoric that it is a blessing – this also lends to the rhetoric that it could be a tragedy when in reality it just is what it is. I frame it as my superpower personally because that helps me cope with its challenges, and because being autistic is so central to my identity that embracing it in a society that often doesn’t is radically self loving for me. My mental health issues are not the same as me being autistic, but since autism affects how I process everything they are of course intertwined and I have no doubt that being autistic in a world that isn’t has been part of how bad my mental illness has gotten and how confusing it has been to understand. In particular I think my early experiences of mental health issues (before they developed into a clear mood disorder of their own) were heavily intertwined with my autistic experience.

So why am I telling you all this? To give you the smallest cross-section of just one person’s autistic experience, and the complexity of even trying to begin to comprehend that experience, so that you might begin to grasp how neurodivergency and the way it is approached by society is not something that can be easily defined or explained. And that is essentially the point of this post. There are more conversations happening around neurodivergency now then ever before – and that is a joyous and wonderful thing! But these conversations cannot be dulled down to a single Instagram post, or a single profile of autism – which threatens to be the most easily palatable representation of autism. Think of how mental health awareness is sometimes boiled down to self-care, bosses offering a free yoga class to their employees, and pity for the people who can’t socialise but can still just about get through a days work. This kind of awareness fails to recognise or help those suffering in ways that are uncomfortable for us to hear about, or impede how they might function in the systems they are expected to – it doesn’t help the person who has to take a year off work, nor the person who has to call an ambulance because they are convinced they’re dying, nor the person who lashes out at others with angry words because they can’t deal with their inner turmoil. I don’t want a similar pattern to happen as we see more autistic and neurodivergent awareness and representation. We can’t afford to ignore the messy parts of autism that might make some people a bit uncomfortable, or the fact that many neurodivergent people can’t (or don’t want to) participate in traditional capitalist structures that aren’t set up to support them. As there is more awareness, we must show the full array of autistic experiences – from all races, with comorbid mental health issues, different traits, physically disabled autistic people etc etc.

Autism and neurodivergency can’t become something trendy, like a new kind of personality test for CEOs to try and enhance their team and their diversity. They just need to become tolerated, known, understood. Because neurodivergency isn’t always palatable; sometimes it’s messy and it’s different and we have to make sure we don’t run the risk of autistic and adhd people who can more easily fit into the societal expectations (and who want to, because not everyone does) getting ahead and heralded as some liberal caring symbol for employers – for example, while others continue to be ignored. 

Posted in Advocacy, autism, Personal Growth

Autism is My Superpower

Posted on by Millie :)

I’m autistic. Having autism in a neurotypical world is not easy because generally the world isn’t built for us and proves to be confusing, but for anyone struggling with their diagnosis/ symptoms (and any neurotypicals unclear on the individual nature of autism) I want to make it clear that having autism isn’t a defect. Nor is it a mental illness. In fact, it can be a bonus in many situations, and when accommodated to autistic people can provide new perspectives and skills to the benefit of others. I, for one, like to think that my autism is my superpower, and this is my personal experience:

I learnt to ‘mask’ my autism – consciously learning how to act and react from other people’s behaviour; having to put effort into learning social rules that came naturally to others. Masking can be exhausting, so I know it’s essential that I take breaks and find time for myself, but like a superhero in a costume, it can also be powerful. How? Because my passion is theatre, and when I become the character I act out on stage, I am easily able to slip myself into their shoes – I know how they would behave and why. It comes effortless to me. The misconception is that autistic people are like robots and can only slot into certain careers. In reality we are varied like everyone else, and our uniqueness is incredible. We exist in every identity there is: every race, every gender, every sexuality, as parents and children. Our variety is often overlooked.

My increased sensory input is a key feature of my superpower. I observe more, hear more, taste more. This translates to a benefit in so many situations. You don’t know your train time? Don’t worry, I glanced at the board quickly and noticed it. You’re lost and don’t know the way back? Don’t worry, I spotted landmarks along the way, I know where we’re going. You’re trying to remember where you put your glasses? Never fear, I spotted them. And if we’re thinking about sound and music, my greater sensory input comes to my aid once again – that along with my ability to spot patterns as part of my autism, and my synaesthesia (which is far more prevalent among autistic people than the general population). When I hear a piece of music, it is alive to me. It is full of colour, I hear every layer of the rich instruments, and I can see the patterns the notes are forming. If I want to then play that piece on piano, I need only translate the pattern onto the keys – give me a bit of time and I can paint the picture I hear all by myself. This is my superpower. 

Not to mention the fact that I am quite simply neurodivergent. I think experience the world in a way that is different to ‘the norm’, or rather the majority. Why is this a feature of my superpower? Because I can come up with new ideas and perspectives that may have been overlooked or not thought of at all. In certain situations this can become the way I overcome challenges or help others to do so; in the right combination my divergent thinking could be innovative. Us autistic people have a place in this society, no matter where our traits lie on the spectrum, and if we are accommodated we may even be able to offer solutions, certainly valuable contributions at the least. 

Like a superhero may have an emblem, sign, or symbol, I have my stims. By stims I mean self stimulatory behaviour. Why is this so amazing? Well, it indicates to me how I am feeling (different stims, like tapping my fingers on my palm or twirling my ankle, correspond to different moods). Not only this, but should I start to feel an uncomfortable emotion, stimming freely can help calm me down. There’s a lot of people out there that don’t have something so simple in their toolbox, so this is powerful to me. It’s also such a pure form of expression, and can even help me release my creativity, tapping into my flow. Furthermore, my stims evolve over time – hitting my head morphed into covering my head and now I need only put on a hat to feel at home. How awesome is that? 

This barely scratches the surface of my positive autistic experience, but I hope it has enlightened you. Autism is not a bad thing – quite the opposite. And the beautiful part of it is that no one autistic person’s experience is the same as another. We have a place in this world, and we’re not going anywhere, so the more that neurotypicals begin to understand and help us meet our needs, the more we can give.

Posted in Mental Health, Personal Growth

Letter to Anyone With Disordered Eating

Posted on by Millie :)

Dear you,

I’ll start by saying hello and that I care, in case no one has said that to you today. Where you are right now, I’ve been there. Maybe not physically, but in some way mentally, and certainly in empathy with you. Some days you’ve probably told yourself you’re not struggling, it’s not hard, it’s worth it – I know I did. And deep down I also know that you know it’s not. It never will be. So here’s my letter to you. Not to say stop or that the pain goes away overnight, just to speak to you as someone who cares, and let you be.

You may think this is all about ‘skinny’; that this is all about achieving the version of yourself that you ‘should’ be. You might think you’re in control. It feels good to be in control right? To know your goals, your focus for the day or the month. I get that. The problem is that in the end, you’re not. And, wow, that is painful to realise. It crushed me when I did. It brought back the struggle of every step I’d been through. But it was necessary. In the end it controls you – whether that is your thoughts or this system telling you that you will never be enough until you fit into that dress, it controls you. And all of a sudden what you were fighting for becomes the thing you are fighting to get away from. In a way, if you really look, you can see this all along. I don’t want you to feel that terror or that hurt, but I want you to know you are not alone in that and the sooner you can get away from it the better.

The good news is that you can. I’m not forcing you to – I’m not another voice telling you to eat more or eat less or do this or that because they can be annoying right? And they can fuel us, I know they did for me. I lived for the finger on my spine telling me how skinny I’d gotten; I lived for the voice telling me how healthy I looked, thinking I’d failed. You’ve never failed. There’s never anything you should be. All I want to do is remind you of your power and your strength because my goodness have you got a lot of it. Think I’m wrong? Well let’s have a look at it, logically – maybe you’ve been restricting for months, purging for years, feeling unworthy for what seems like a lifetime, binging every night? That takes effort. That is blood and sweat and tears, often literally. But the effort it took just to put into that system shows you just how much power you have in you to reverse it. That strength can be turned around to go the other way and to learn, or relearn perhaps, that you are enough just the way you are. What makes you who you are is not your body.

Words like that seem futile though sometimes, don’t they? Well, I’ll let you in on a secret, I don’t love my body. Most people don’t love their bodies, at least not everyday. But what I do have now is a deep appreciation for how incredible the inner workings of my body are. They’re insane! And most days – I have acceptance. That’s all I need. Acceptance that this food fuels my brain, and that I am enough in this moment. Just enough. Not to say I don’t still struggle, because I do, I really do, but I look back on the pain I was in and I wonder how I ever survived. I didn’t even realise it at the time. It took someone reaching out and telling me they’d been there too for me to even comprehend the idea that this wasn’t healthy for me to be under such mental stress, let alone physical. You are not alone.

Most likely you know all the issues that await if you head down this road further, so I’m not here to preach that to you, but to give you hope of a life outside of this. Of an acceptance and tolerance I for one could not even dream of at one point. My dear you are doing alright – whatever has brought you to this point does not deserve your magnificence or your power. I want to remind you that help is a brave word and there are so many people out there ready and willing to help you in so many different capacities no matter what your struggle may be. I love you, and you are worthy of a life outside of a fixation on your looks. We all are.

Your friend,

Millie

Posted in Advocacy, Happy Notes, Mental Health, Notes, Personal Growth

What is positivity?

Posted on by Millie :)

This post is inspired by I note I made for my Instagram – @our.happy.notes – which read: ‘For me being positive doesn’t mean being happy or positive all the time, it means allowing myself to appreciate the moments that I do feel positive, and allowing the possibility of hope to exist’. I wrote it because being the inquisitive person I am and being active on social media brought the thought into my mind – what is positivity? What does positivity mean to me?

I’m a person that tends to find myself living in extremes. There either is or there isn’t. I am all or nothing. So with positivity and a mood disorder, I found that I either lived in a state of overwhelming optimist or complete lack of any positive thought at all. What I have found interesting, and beneficial to my mental health, is exploring the space in between. The idea that even in positive moments I can accept that it won’t last forever, and in the times where I lack such I can acknowledge that it doesn’t mean that positivity has disappeared.

I think sometimes even in well meaning spaces, there can be such a pressure to be positive and see the good in life. Unfortunately this simply isn’t possible all of the time, and when we put pressure on ourselves to feel one way or the other it can lead to us feeling even worse. The reality of the situation is that all emotions on the spectrum are valid. Yet the lack of positivity or hope in one moment does not mean it will never return; that it has ceased to exist. Nowadays this is something I like to remind myself – writing it out helps me to absorb it.

So, what is positivity to me? Positivity is not the blind belief in a bright future, but the acceptance of the fact that a bright future could exist. It is allowing the possibility of a good day for someone else happening, even if it isn’t for me. It is embracing the small, joyful things in life – the most minute parts of the world that make me a little less down, even if only for a moment. It is an intangible thing, an emotion, an idea – a beautiful prospect.

However I recognise that in moments we really can want to increase our positive thoughts and feelings in life. I am no expert on this, though I do have some tools that have helped me. In the morning I write down affirmations for the day – ‘Today can be a good day’, ‘I am enough’, etc. In the evening I write a gratitude list – ‘I have a roof over my head’, ‘someone smiled at me in the street’. I list the small things in life that bring me joy. I allow myself to dream wildly, but remind myself that whether or not these dreams materialise, I will be ok. I smile; sometimes I simply sit there and I smile. And when I feel that positivity is disappearing, that hope is waning, I repeat aloud and write on paper that they are not gone forever. These might seem a little silly, but they are some of the most healing things toward my mental health.

Sending love and support to anyone who needs it today!

Love, Millie x

Posted in Mental Health, Personal Growth

Small Steps

Posted on by Millie :)

Hey there! 

I’ve been thinking recently on how I can help myself to maintain a better state of mental health, when I’m already feeling a bit better in myself, but also how I can make it easier to lift out of those darker moments. Through some conversations, therapy, and self reflection I have come to appreciate how important the small steps we take to support our mental health are.

However, when you’re feeling particularly blue it can be difficult to even begin to do the smallest things; people can often get annoyed at us for this as well. For me one way of overcoming this is by breaking them down into even smaller steps. For example if my aim is to take my meds, then I’ll start by walking to the drawer, then opening the draw, taking them out, laying them out etc etc. It may seem silly at first – I know for me it almost felt like I was patronising myself – but it might just be of use to try this, and it is a huge thing to take any of these steps so you deserve congratulating for that! 

So what are some of the small steps I’ve come up with to help maintain my mental health? Writing my diary; gratitude and affirmation lists; meds and vits; drinking enough water; walking; allowing myself downtime; using planners to keep on top of work; reading (to make learning fun); making my happy notes; doodling and using fiddle toys; playing piano; meditating and more…

I hope you can find some small steps that will help you maintain your mental health! We all have it and we all need to look after it 

See ya later 🙂

Posted in Mental Health, Personal Growth

Lessons from Bipolar

Posted on by Millie :)

I have struggled, and continue to struggle, with my mental health for quite a few years. At first it felt like I was going insane all on my own – a very isolating experience. Slowly, I am learning to manage my mental health, understand myself, and vocalise my experience; it would be untrue to say that receiving the diagnosis of cyclothymia (a subtype of bipolar disorder) did not aid facilitate this. As I continue to battle with my mind, I’ve realised that being in opposition to the reality of my experience does nothing to help me. I am learning to embrace and accept this part of me, and to change my attitudes towards my challenges. Now I try to – though is is difficult – find positivity and gratitude for what I go through; one way I do this is by reflecting on the lessons I have learnt along the way while dealing with this disorder.

So here are some of the lessons I embrace from bipolar: 

First and foremost, there is always good in the bad, even if we can’t see it at the time. Along these lines, when I felt that I had lost myself (as I frequently did) I was actually growing the most, almost like a butterfly emerging from a cocoon. And the things I had struggled with most became my greatest sources of strength. Not only this, but what I have been through can actually help other people – for them to feel less alone, for me to share some small wisdom, etc. 

Looking back, I know nothing is too big or difficult for me to overcome. Nothing. I used to live in such fear of the next episode or the next ‘thing’, but each time I survived, and came out stronger – if a bit exhausted. It may take a while, but I will find my path; just because there are bumps along the road doesn’t mean the road has ended, sometimes the bumps make the end result so much more worthwhile. 

Nonetheless, I couldn’t do this alone. The great thing? I don’t have to. I know that now. And asking for help is a brave thing to do, not a weak thing. Anyone living with a mental illness is so strong, not weak or broken. Asking for help has led me to some of the most amazing, kindest people out there, and it was worth the time it took to find them. There are masses of people out there willing to support someone. 

Along the way I’ve made many mistakes; misdirected attempts to cope. But recovering from these (recovery: a journey) has taught me that I am more than my mistakes – I am a nuanced person and neither my slip ups nor my illness define me. The most important steps and changes I make in recovery are the little ones, because they add up and make a huge difference. One day at a time. 

However, I’ve learnt that sometimes I need to do the things I don’t want to or think I don’t have the energy to in order to help me in the long run, for this is certainly a marathon not a sprint. Still, just because I have this difficulty doesn’t mean that it’s a defect. I have learnt that I can face any challenge so long as I approach it with creativity, and from my struggles I can find inspiration. For example, turning my hypomanic experience into poetry. 

For anyone grappling with their diagnosis, keep going yet. This too shall pass, and you are not alone.

Posted in Mental Health, Personal Growth

Letter to My Mental Illnesses

Posted on by Millie :)

Hello, 

There’s no need to introduce myself, we know each other well, don’t we? As such I know that you have a habit of finding new ways to creep into my life – you’re always going to be here I suspect, so I suppose it’s time I had a proper conversation with you. Embraced you. Accepted that you are, and always will be, a part of me. 

Well I’d rather not start with the negatives, so let me thank you. You have taught me strength in ways I could never have imagined just a few years ago. You tried to break me – hell, you still do – and yet my scars hold power as a consequence. So thank you for that. And thank you for teaching me kindness, empathy and wisdom. If it wasn’t for you I never would have known what to say to my friends in distress. I never could have overcome issues unrelated to you. If you’re going to stick around you might as well teach me some more of those lessons, because I appreciate them, I really do. And thank you for showing me how lost I was. Thank you for teaching me who I am. Do not mistake me, I am not you. You are a part of me yes, but in realising that I have seen some of the other parts of me that I failed to notice previously. Pretty amazing really. 

Now if you were a physical person I would probably beat bloody at this point. I would scream at you until my throat was raw. I would cry at you, how dare you try to take me away, how dare you try to take my friends, how dare try to cause my family such pain. I would shout at you for every opportunity you took away from me – I wanted to go on that trip. All those days I missed. I actually wanted to be able to go to lessons and focus. I wanted to be around my friends. I wanted to be able to be a stupid teenager for just one day without there being the constant reminder that at any moment I could be struck with the feeling that my heart might explode, or the knowledge that addiction is in my blood.

Yet note I speak in past tense. For in the end, whether you taught me, or I found ways to learn it through necessity to survive, I realised I didn’t really want those things. For every opportunity I missed, I was presented with something else that formed me. And the ones I didn’t miss were golden as a result. If I could let go in the ways I wished, I wouldn’t be me. I wouldn’t be able to see the world in the ways I do. 

Still, know this, if you were a person I saw you run at someone else – god forbid someone I love – I would not hesitate to put myself between you and them, for no one deserves that pain, and my dear we are not done fighting yet. 

Seriously though, you are just made of hopelessness and chaos. Some days I think, surely my mental illness must be exhausted because I sure am, but no, there you are again. So come at me. Come at me with everything you’ve got and watch me rise, because I have come too far to give in to you. I will take the creativity from mania and your chaos and I will make something beautiful. I will take the desperation of your darkness and the shaking mess from your anxiety and I will use it to cling to the others who are suffering to make sure we get through. To ensure that you never have such a grip over another person’s life. Come at me – I think you forget that you are a part of me. We have to find some way to live in harmony or we will destroy each other. Come at me old friend, and watch me grow.