Quiet On The Outside, Screaming On The Inside!

Then: March 4th 2017

Original Blog Title: I Constantly Feel Like An Idiot!

Never in my life have I ever felt smart enough. I have always felt like I am just stupid and that everyone else is of a much higher intelligence than I am. For the most part this has been caused by people either outright saying that I’m an idiot or laughing at any suggestions or ideas I make.

A lot of thoughts are always actively racing round my head. It’s like my brain is training for the Olympics. It tries so hard to keep up that it wears itself out very quickly, and people wonder why I stay so quiet. It’s hard to talk when you mind is busy thinking about what assignments you need to have done, what time are you going home from college,  when are you going to stand up for yourself, when are going to start applying for summer jobs, you need to worry about this friend, worry about failed conversations no matter how long ago they were, worry about never finding love and dying alone. These are thoughts that run through my head 24/7 as well as a few more depending on the day and what is going on at the time. I know everyone has all sorts of things going on in their mind and they can handle it and ignore it. I can’t ignore it. Along with every thought there is an extra positive and negative thought that stems from each one. The negative thought always trumps the positive and thus I don’t know what is supposed to be good about said thought. With all this going on in my mind, I find it very hard to focus and concentrate. Whenever I try to read a book these days I can’t help but read the first line of a paragraph and then skip straight down to the end of the paragraph because I want to get though it as fast as I can because I was a slow reader in school. I would be going onto the second page of a five page story and everyone else would nearly be finished. The thing is I would have to keep re-reading the same part a few times because I wasn’t paying attention when I read it the first time and then I wouldn’t understand where the story was going and have to start from the start all over again to try to figure out what was actually happening.

Now: February 10th 2018

I decide to look at my drafts folder to see blogs that I had started but never finished. This was my most recent one, and either I posted a separate blog that was on a similar topic to this or else I didn’t feel this was worthy to post and left the topic alone. I got in the mood to write a blog and this one from last year brings up some important points and I didn’t want it to go unread. I guess the link that I would make from that blog to what I want to talk about now is that my mind is still occupied with these and many more thoughts on a daily basis. I can’t remember the last time my brain has been silent, it gets overwhelming. Since starting my work placement and being back at college after the Christmas break, my social skills have gone to absolute shit and a lot of my thoughts now are me constantly worrying that I will never be comfortable having conversations with most people ever again. I have been a lot quieter since being back and when I do speak it is nothing of importance and a majority of the time my input is not wanted or needed.

For once it’s not the disinterest in my input that is getting to me, I’m used to that I’m not the most interesting of people. The thing that is making me very anxious and worried is that I feel emotionally, mentally, and physically incapable of having conversations with like 99.9% of people I see on a daily basis. I feel like they all think I’m being weird or maybe distant. I’ve been like this before but never has it been a massive problem like it is now and also it has never effected me as much before as it does now.  I’ve kind of stopped making jokes and I tend not to pay attention to a lot going on around me. I’m constantly walking around and ending up in the same places hoping that eventually my social skills setting in my mind with flick back to what it once was. I’ve never been great at talking to people ever but I’ve definitely been better then I am now. I feel very trapped because I can’t really have a conversation with someone about this because that’s the problem. I feel like before I can even try to communicate with anyone I have to try and see why I have this issue and how it can be resolved. Otherwise, I would just go up to people I know and say “I really want to talk to you but your busy. I want you to make me laugh but I know I can’t make you do anything. I want you to talk to me and let me listen but you won’t understand the purpose of this one sided conversation.”

I’m not much better through texting or any thing that is typed. I don’t converse very well through that medium and typically don’t have a conversation over it but I’ve been like that since I started texting. Honestly, I’ve always preferred phone calls. They are more personal. My humour is very sarcastic so it’s easier for me to be funny while talking on the phone because in a message the sarcasm could be misconstrued as me being rude or bitchy. I also feel very comforted and more relaxed hearing the other person’s voice and their laugh. It just makes me feel a lot happier. In comparison to face to face conversations, I think I actually converse better over the phone because the pressure of them looking at me is gone. I get really insecure on a constant basis and I also really dislike eye contact. I’ve been wearing a scarves almost everyday over the last few months because I feel insecure about my neck and chin area so the scarf is there to hide that and also to hide some of my face when I feel embarrassed or nervous.

I feel like I might be going through an identity crisis too because I literally hate almost all the clothes I own. I also refuse to go shopping because that would involve spending money on more clothes that I don’t care about and might never wear. Every time I have gone into a clothes shop in the last year, and a few odd times here and there before that,  I have found one thing that I really like when I go into the shop. However, in the time it takes me to finish looking around and start to making my way to the till I have talked myself out of buying that item of clothing I had initial liked and some I even loved and I just put them back and walk out of the shop. It’s worse with my mother because she will make me change my mind quicker and I just want to leave the shop immediately because there is nothing there for me. I hate clothes shopping and anytime I enter shops like Penneys or TK Maxx I always just feel really panicked and stressed for the entire time that I’m in the shop and then once I leave the shop I’m ok again. Essentially, I have no idea what my aesthetic is when it comes to my look and what I wear.

In terms of my look besides clothes, I have been wanting to get my nose pierced for like 2 or 3 years. My plan was to do it for my 20th birthday but then other things became priority money wise and now I can’t get that done. I hope that one day that will happen but I don’t know when now. While I don’t think that a piercing has the power to give me a massive confidence boost, I do think it will make me feel more like how I want to present myself to the world. Not entirely happy with my hair either, I also had plans last year to dye it and that never happened. I did cut it not too long ago but I already feel like it’s gotten too long again.

I’ve fairly distant in a lot of aspects and from a lot of people. I think the issue is that I’m too focused on trying to decipher what my thoughts are all about. I have found myself saying to people who I see very often but not talk to as much, “I missed you!” I’ve said this when I’ve seen someone’s personality and/or humour in a moment that I feel like I used to see a lot more in the past. I do feel like this is appropriate because I feel like I don’t see these sides of people as often anymore. However, maybe they’re not the problem. Maybe I don’t miss them, maybe I miss in those moments, I miss who I used to be back in past.



So, I Had This Dream…

This dream has been on my mind constantly since I had it on Saturday night. Before I went to sleep that night I had just watched Saoirse Ronan’s movie ‘Ladybird’ so that influenced it a little bit.

My dream was set in a Catholic school, which isn’t too odd because I went to a Catholic secondary school and some of the settings were from my old school. There was a lot of little details in this dream that linked to that movie but nothing to do with the major plot of it. I had a dream about my ex-best friend from when I was aged 5-12. That was weird in itself and also what was weird too was that zero people from college were in my dream at all, not a single one of them. So the main part of the dream that I can still remember clearly was in our secondary school gym hall. There was something going on there and there was a few different groups on the court. I enter the gym and one of my friends from secondary school came over to me and was like “She’s over there.” From the beginning of my dream before I went to the gym, there had been something telling that I needed to go find my ex-best friend and somehow that led me to the gym of the school we graduated from 2 and a half years ago.

I guess some back story is needed a little bit before I move on. When I was younger I absolutely hated all forms of physical contact. Even among my friends and family. If a friend tried to hug me, I would push them off me fairly aggressively. They would all just laugh, it was my shtick to be this little angry human that hated hugs and everything good in the world. (Looks like not too much has changed there). The fact that they found this funny meant that I needed to keep doing it because to make them laugh was everything to me. If I didn’t push them off, I would let them hug me but I would keep my hands straight by my sides and not hug them back and wait for it to be over. It wasn’t that I was uncomfortable with them, it was that I was uncomfortable with myself and I didn’t understand the purpose of hugs. I guess I still don’t really understand their purpose but now I do like them and they make me feel a lot happier and safer which is necessary now that my mind is a constant source of sadness, fear and danger and I can’t escape that.

Anyway, with that in mind, let me get back to the dream. So I walk over to her and place my hand on her shoulder and go “Hey, how are you?” and she just says “Hey.” I kid you not I stand there for about 5 minutes with my hand still on her shoulder. She eventually says “You can either stop now and walk away or you can fully commit to this physical contact thing and fix this problem between us.” So I hug her for a while and then I think we both are really happy after that and then we start hanging out again like we used to when we were kids. Then I woke up. I was sooooooo confused when I woke up. “Why did I dream about her? What does this dream mean? I haven’t even been thinking about her recently, what is going on?” I thought to myself. So since then I have been trying to analyse this dream in the most literal sense. So maybe the reason I thought of her is because in reality I feel really alone again because I feel the need to have a best friend again, someone I can hang with all the time and be texting and talking to all the time. I also had recently been thinking about physical contact and my struggle to becoming more comfortable with it. I think it makes sense that this dream stemmed from my overthinking lately. Maybe the dream is trying to tell me that for me to be able to move forward I need to deal with what happened all those years ago when my best friend became my ex-best friend. Which, by the way, had absolutely nothing to do with hugs or physical contact. It mostly had to do with my negativity and how I couldn’t take a joke or find the same things funny or be happy about anything. I would always complain and to be honest everyone was getting sick of it. I still haven’t improved much, but since then I’ve been able to keep more things to myself in a way that’s healthier for current relationships that I have formed. I’ve also gotten more confident in making jokes and laughing at things that when I was younger I thought was too inappropriate. I was such a parent to my friend group when I was younger because I didn’t want us watching YouTube videos that were too inappropriate because I thought we were too young and I wanted to hold onto my naivety for as long as I possibly could. My friends obviously wouldn’t listen to me and hence forcing me to watch The Hangover at the age of 11 which made me feel so ill, it will forever be my least favourite movie because that’s when all the fighting between us started. I censored what I watched more than my parents ever did. I was aware of so much at a young age and chose to ignore certain things until I was older because nobody over a certain age seemed very happy and I wanted to be able to enjoy the few things that brought me happiness before adolescence and adulthood ripped that away from me.

Almost A Decade Of Suicidal Thoughts. 

**Trigger Warning: Content contains suicidal thoughts and self harm. Reader Discretion is advised.**

I will start this off by saying that right now I currently have no urge to kill myself or even harm myself. Life is fine. I am dealing with it. Hopefully soon, I will start really living it again. I also say almost a decade because I’d say it would have been more so the middle to end of 2008, if even as early as that year, where I first started to feel suicidal in some sense. 

The more I think back to 2008 the more I remember why I would have suicidal. While the issues I was dealing with then are no big deal to me now, they were at the time. Some of those problems effected my entire world at that moment in time.i was in the 2nd half of 4th class, I was aged 9 and turning 10 that year, the most torturous school year of my entire life. I felt I had this massive target on my back that people just couldn’t get enough of aiming for. It was also a very insecure time for myself as my body was starting to go through changes and would go through so many that year. My body was developing a lot faster than that of the other girls in my class. The boys in my class were always laughing at me. One boy in particular was bullying me and harassing me more than other time because he had always bullied me since I was about 5 or 6 but during 2008 is when it started getting a whole lot worse. I should also note that the teacher I had for 4 to class as also my teacher in junior infants and from that first time she taught me I have had a fear of authority figures ever since. The way things used to work in primary school was that seating charts needed to be made, it would be organised boy-girl-boy-girl for as much as possible, and these arrangements had to be changed every few weeks. So of course my teacher decided to seat me next to the boy of was awful to me, it was from this moment things started getting worse. I will call this bully Gary, for the plain and simple reason that that name is the evil character in a game called Bully. So Gary was friends with my friend group. My friends liked him. They said I needed to give him a chance and that I took everything he did too seriously. Now I’ve always found what he did very hard to explain because I feel like my mind immediately tries to block out he content as quickly as a can so it doesn’t manifest itself in my mind. Even at the time no teacher would help me because I couldn’t explain it properly. I was either told by teachers to work it out and learn to get along with him or else just stay away from him. Pretty hard to stay away from him when I’m sat right next to him and not allowed to change where I’m sitting. I remember one day in particular where I got really upset. Our teacher was out so we had a substitute instead. We were given work to do and it was up to us to see how much we could get done in the school day and then finish the rest for homework. I trying to work away however, Gary started saying things to distract me and then I think he started hitting my pencil so I would mess up every time I tried to write. I kept asking him to stop but he would just ignore me and keep doing whatever he was doing and the other guy who I was sitting next was friends with Gary and was laughing along with him and his antics. My eyes started watering and I was getting a bit distressed. I told Gary to stop a little louder and the substitute teacher heard me and asked if there was a problem. I said I was trying to do my work and that the two boys were distracting me and upsetting me and the teacher just said to try and ignore them. About a month later when the seating arrangements had been changed again, I wasn’t sitting next to Gary but I was only like 3 seats away from him and all his friends were near me some beside me and some in front of me. I was so upset with everything that one day I started drawing. I drew myself. I drew a train. I drew myself, standing on a train track with a train headed towards me. Some of the boys around me were looking at my sheet of paper and were like “What the hell are you trying to draw?”  I told them what it was and said I was drawing it because I’d rather be dead than have to put up with any of them for any longer. The only person who was sitting by me at the time who was my friend was right in front of me. She didn’t say anything but she did look a little concerned and I think she did go and tell the teacher at some point after this about what I had said and drawn. I say this because I think either the next day or a few days later, the teacher called me outside the door of the classroom and said “Are you okay? I was told about this drawing you did and what you saidand this is really serious stuff!”  I told her that I was fine and that I never drew anything. She asked me a few more times about it and I kept denying it. She said ok and we walked back into the classroom. She never brought it up again. I should also mention that after I explained my reasoning behind the drawing to the boys they all laughed and didn’t take what I said seriously at all. They didn’t believe I would kill myself, and for a little while I really wanted to prove them wrong but I never did. At the end of that year, my mom got a heart tumour, non-cancerous but still serious, and I got really sad and really worried around that time. A good thing that came out of that though was that my friends supported me and comforted me during that time which would be the first and last time that most of them would have done that. The bullying was still there and I was becoming even more uncomfortable with the changes my body was experiencing. It wasn’t until 6th class we would watch a DVD to explain these changes so I had no idea what was going on. I thought there was things wrong with me and I didn’t tell anyone about my worries. I did ask my mother one day and she did explain it to me a bit but not too graphically or anything. By this time thought that I actually brought it up, I was on like my third ever period. I had known there was something happening for two or three months before I said anything. I thought I was dying and the thought of that scared me. 

While I’ve had suicidal thoughts all these years, I have also had a fear of dying. I think more so a fear of not knowing and not having any control over how and when I would die. After my mom was sick I felt for a while after that if I committed suicide I would be selfish. Any kind of complication with my mom’s surgery could have made things end up a lot differently for her so I felt like if I tried to kill myself I would be taking a perfectly healthy life and body and getting rid of it for my own selfish reasons. At that time too with my mother being in hospital and having surgery, my family were stressed out enough as it was so I didn’t want to make them any more stressed out. 

Next major event, the friendship schism of 2010, that was one of the, if not the, worst years of my life. So I had a group of friends all throughout primary school, over the summer and the first half of 1st year in secondary school these friendships were starting to crumble and crumble fast. There was a friend who stuck by me for a bit after that but by the summer of 2011 they were gone too. I was alone probably for the first time in my life. This schism was when my mental issues began. I wanted to kill myself then more than ever. I felt like since they left me nobody would ever want to be my friend again. I thought I was fat, ugly, extremely negative, and a really boring, untalented person. I thought no one would ever want to be around me because of these reasons. I started to think that maybe they were never really my friends at all and they just lied to me.  It was years before I could trust anyone after that and I still have problems with trust today but I am gettin better.

 I almost tried to commit suicide for the first and only time in April 2011. The only time I’ve ever come close to acting on my suicidal thoughts. I was 13. I was at someone’s house, they had a bunk bed, and I had a belt. They left the room for a few minutes and in that time I had taken my belt off, tied it around part of the top bunk and tried to tied it around my neck. I knew it wasn’t going to work but I still wanted to test it. It was a stupid idea. I untied the belt from the bed and put it back on before the person came back in. I always thought about hanging myself but I never thought that I would be able to do it right. I thought about it a lot from the ages of 13-16 especially. I needed a rope that would be strong enough, a place to tie the rope that would be strong enough, all without being suspicious. I never actually planned anything, I just thought about the possibilities and how I would never be able to do it on a practical level. Mentally there was definitely times where I would have gone through with it but I wanted to be certain it was either done properly or not at all. 

I started self harming in 2015, I was in 6th year stressed about the the Leaving Cert. I was 17. I used a rubber band. I had one on my wrist at all times for months. I would pull it back as far as I could so it was going to cause my arm as much pain as possible. It would cause a swollen red line to form which would later sting. I used it a lot in those months leading up to and during the exams. I still would use this method of self harm throughout my 1st year of college usually before a presentation or after I said something stupid or I was being extra awkward in a social situation. So yeah I used that quite a bit. However, I would say that my suicidal thoughts calmed down a lot when I started doing that. I haven’t genuinely wanted to kill myself since about 2014. Another thing that has calmed those thoughts down a bit is smoking, which I started in March 2016 when I was 18. The reason it calms those thoughts though isn’t necessarily a positive thing. I see smoking as a way of killing myself slowly, not as slow as a natural cause of death but slower than an immediate suicide. I see smoking as giving me time to think because I don’t want to end my life right now and make a drastic decision that can’t be undone. I don’t think about this every time I have a cigarette it was just one of my initial thoughts when I started and now it’s just kind of stuck in the back of my mind. In around August of 2016, I started to self harm using a knife. I wasn’t doing this for long before I stopped in September after a friends’ reaction to my scars. I stopped for 5 months before I started again in mid February of 2017. I would cut my left arm and usually my right leg when self harming, although it would usually just be the arm. I have also used a key when self harming for the 2nd half of 2017. The last time I cut was probably early December. 

That’s probably the best timeline of where my mind has been on the thought of suicide. This blog is yet another response, my first and only response, through social media in regards to the Logan Paul video that showed a dead body hanging from a tree in the Aokigahara, also known as the Suicide Forest, in Japan. Before the video, I had never heard of the forest. If the video had just been about the history of the forest and the stories about it, I would have been really intrigued about it and would then have warned my friends to never let me go to Japan alone because I wouldn’t be coming back alive. However, the constant clips of the body and especially the clip of the deceased persons’ discoloured hands I had chills all over. I could feel my fear of death coming back but now I was a little bit afraid of the idea of hanging because this is the first time I’ve ever seen anything like this. I made me feel uncomfortable but I didn’t really react I just felt numb. 

2017: It Wasn’t The Worst, But It Wasn’t The Best!

As a whole, I don’t think that 2017 was that bad of a year. Like every year there is both moments of good and bad. I had my fair share of bad times but the good times this year made it worth it.

Before I talk about some of this years’ events in my life, I’ll reflect back on my New Year’s Resolutions for 2017

  1. Stop taking myself so seriously – I do think I improved upon this for an extent but not in a good way. I think I stopped taking myself seriously because I stopped caring about myself and what was happening to me. I just gave up fighting back for the most part because nobody took me seriously. My intention was to laugh more at myself and maybe developed a sort of confidence. However, the result was people laughing at me constantly and knocking any building confidence out of me.
  2. Focus on college – I think I did a very good job of this at the start of the year when I was in 2nd semester of 2nd year. I got two of the highest grades that I’ve ever gotten overall in modules. I was doing great, I passed my repeat that followed me on from the module I failed at the end of 2016. Even though that repeat should have made sure that I focused on everything after that. 3rd year semester 1 is where I really gave up. After the first month was over, I went into a downward spiral. I had no motivation or energy to do any of my work. I did manage to get every assignment submitted but I wasn’t happy with most of them. This semester has made me feel like a failure. Even if I somehow pass everything, I will feel like a failure.
  3. Learn to deal with being alone – I feel like I just had to suck up any feelings of loneliness or feelings like I was alone in the world because there was no other solution to this. I think I spent a lot of this year forcing myself to be alone because I started to feel extra anxious and a waste of space in any group setting. When I lived in Tralee I spent a lot of the 2nd semester up in my room when I wasn’t going out almost every Thursday night.
  4. Work on making myself feel better – I was trying to do this at the start of this year by going to the college doctor who had me on anti-depressants which didn’t help. Recently, I’ve started seeing a therapist after I got referred after I hit a very low point in October. I do think as this year has been coming to a close that I have actively worked on making myself feel better.

So I think I did a fairly good job there with attempting those resolutions but none of them were fully successful. Oh well, there’s always time to work on them in 2018!!

In terms of my mental health it went to absolute shit, which it also did last year so not much as changed their. I felt like I was fighting with others a lot more this year just as much as I was fighting with myself. It was very draining both mentally and socially. I really want to leave all that sort of stuff behind me because I hate confrontation so much it takes me a long time, if ever, to recover from it. I started cutting last year and while I took a 5 month hiatus I continued again in February about a week after my birthday. Not my finest hour. I have continued to cut myself periodically throughout all of this year with my last one only being at least a few weeks ago. Although I have no intention to do anything again, I was drying the dishes and cutlery last night and I saw the knives and thought “Maybe, just a little bit?” I didn’t do anything but I did want to. I have more self control than people give me credit for, when I’ve harmed myself things are seriously wrong because for the most part I can ignore the thoughts that are telling me to do that, the urges that want me to feel the physical pain that I deserve and to suppress the mental pain that I’m feeling at that moment in time. This year I felt like I began to bottle things up again. I stopped telling people the extent of what I’m feeling because 99% of them don’t care.  Today, New Years Eve, I felt a bit down today but just tried to ignore it. My only positive today was that I was able to smoke a little bit because my parents weren’t hear all evening. Until my father came home very drunk and being incredibly annoying. I can’t stand him when he’s like that, constantly repeating himself and not being able to think properly. Then my mother came home from work and complained about how shitty the night was. I couldn’t even ring in the new year without a heap load of negativity thrown at me just minutes before midnight. I happily would have rang in the new year on my own, but no I wanted to watch the RTÉ special on the television. So needless to say 2018 hasn’t gotten off to a great start yet but there’s a whole year of better experiences to get through yet.

I could go on and on about my mental issues this year so I guess I’ll recap some of the higher points of this year. These won’t be in any particular order just the order in which I think of them or I feel like they link. I went to my first ever Pride this year in Cork City. I wasn’t sure if I’d actually be able to go to the parade and stuff until like the day before because I was only going up to Cork to go to my first ever drag show which was to see Alyssa Edwards. The day of the drag show was fairly good. I got to explore Cork for the first time ever on my own. I knew fuck all about the city before that weekend. I also got to reconnect with one of my friends who I’ve known for most of my life but hadn’t talked to much in a long time. The night of the drag show once we got to the nightclub was a totally different story. It consisted of a lot of pushing and shoving mostly by a load of over-excited gay men but that was only the few we were around the rest of the crowd actually seemed alright. The only highlight of that night was that I was out in the smoking area and I made a friend. He came over to me wanting a cigarette and I gladly gave him one which he tried to pay me for. He then came back to me a while later when I went back out to the smoking area and asked me for another cigarette. He seemed nice. The 2nd time he stayed near me and we started talking… well typing. I learned fairly quickly that he was deaf. It was a very interesting experience but it was actually the happiest thing that happened that weekend. Overall that weekend was something I wouldn’t trade for the world but it was very overwhelming and I was not used to anything like that. So the day of Pride was all kind of up in a heap. I didn’t know what our plan was or what was happening. We walked in the parade while I was wearing my rainbow flag as a cape and had rainbow flag face paint on my cheeks. I felt so ecstatically gay and I loved it. There was a great performances on the stage where the parade ended but I was experiencing a lot of that by myself because my friend had gone home to get ready for that night where he had a show in a different nightclub to where we had been the night before. The night was fine. My friend was amazing on stage. However, I had my first ever shift that night, and it was with a guy. From all the horror stories I’ve heard of people’s first shift my definitely wasn’t bad at all. I still don’t ever want to do that again…ever. I don’t know if this was just because it was a guy, or because it was someone I don’t know and still don’t know. I have no idea what his name is and because he was so drunk he was taken out of the club by security surely after. The story in itself is funny to look back on know but it’s not something I want to relive.

I got to make my great, grand, gay return to Pink Training and since I’ve devoted an entire blog to this very recently I won’t go into too much detail about it. Definitely, it was the best part of my year. I feel like I got a little bit more confidence this year as last year had made me so much more confident than I had previously been. I had a better time this year knowing how the whole thing was running. It was also my very first time in Galway a city that I would happily return back to in a heartbeat. I told Jodi I had a crush on her and while that had been obvious for the last 2 years while I was keeping that secret she didn’t make me feel bad about any of it. Up until then, I had felt awful for having that crush at all. It was always the centre of any jokes people would be saying towards me and it made me feel like shit and I wish I had kept it to myself because having everyone know just made things harder. It made any butterflies or excitement about it get shut down immediately. While I knew that nothing would ever happen and will not ever happen, I didn’t see what was so wrong with imagining it. The worst thing was really when people brought it any interaction I had with her and making it romantic or sexual, like it got to a point where I just wanted to try and see if there was a way where I could come out as straight and put myself back in the closet and make people think that I made up that crush as a joke, just so they would shut the fuck up about it. I know this is awful, and that’s why I never did it. Think about that thought, I would have preferred to have been in the closet keeping all feelings to myself rather than have all these jokes and comments thrown about on a constant basis. I guess a lot of it was my own fault because I found them funny at the start, and always brought Jodi in conversation so it was my own fault. I never shut down any of these comments, I just kept it all to myself. As my actual crush feelings were going away and I was moving on an getting over it, people were always dragging me back and not believing that I could get over it. I’ve only been out for 2 and a half years and I’ve never really had many crushes in my life because I didn’t realise until I was 15 that I was gay. This was kind of a big deal for me for a part of the last 2 years and it felt like it was being belittled. At the end of the day, all I ever really wanted was a friend, and in maturing and realising things over the last few years I think that this crush definitely had more platonic roots to it than romantic. You can fight me on that all you like, but you don’t know how I’ve felt but I know you’ll make your assumptions and say that I’m lying. As of 2018, I want all the jokes to stop. Unless you are Jodi or I, this doesn’t concern you. I’m pretty much over this entire thing but I think I needed to go through that and have that battle of various emotions in my head over someone I was never going to be and never really want to be with in any way other than platonic. I guess I lied a little along the way and hyped it up myself more than I should have but I realise now that I was wrong and I wish I had kept my mouth shut. I’m sorry if it seems weird that I wrote such a long rant about this in a review of 2017, but I just want to stop feeling shitty about having feelings.

Now that I’ve ranted about that for most of this blog, I’ve completely forgotten what it was I actually wanted to talk about for the rest of this. I like 2017. It was cool. I’ve had some memories that I will never forget. This year was extremely frustrating though and I wanted to give up so many times and give up on so many things. Luckily, thanks to the help of a few people I didn’t.  So thank you to those people for helping me to keep going and making it to the new year. In particularly, the Students Union had been a massive help this year since about August, the time of my repeat, and throughout the last few months which were incredibly difficult and I don’t know where I would be without them.

This is usually where I would write my New Years Resolutions but I don’t know if I really want to write anything new for this year. There are a few little things but I think it’s mostly just sticking with the resolutions I made last year and try to keep improving myself. Let’s hope 2018 is less frustrating and filled with more excitement instead of anxiety!

Don’t Let Me Think, It’s Dangerous!

I’ve been told over the last few months, and realistically my whole life, that everything that is wrong is my fault and not the fault of others. This is particularly when it comes to my mental health and how I view situations. It’s all in my head. I’m misconstruing things. I was told this in my talk therapy session too on Friday but it was explained to me better and didn’t make me feel as awful as when everyone else has says it too me.

I’ve always been told that the only common thing in any problematic situation I get in, is me. I am the only common factor. Therefore, I need to take a good, long look at myself and fix myself because everyone else is pure and never does anything wrong. I spent most of my life being silenced. Being told that I am wrong. That I am taking things the wrong way. That I need to look at things from another perspective. Why is my perspective so bad? Why does no one ever look at things from my perspective?

I understand that having mental health issues, and having problems that relate to that means that yes, it is all in my head. Why does that mean that it is all wrong? I know more about my mental illnesses than you probably do. I am aware of when my head is the one messing things up. I openly admit that. I will preface my complaint or rant with a “I know I’m probably overthinking or over-analyzing things but…” However, there is times when I am right and you tell me I’m thinking too much about it. In thinking too much about things sometimes, I realise just how right I am. I know it should be enough for me to know this but I need people to know sometimes that they are wrong because they should know these things too in order to prevent said problem from coming up again in their lives. Learn from your mistakes and all that. I don’t like the fact that I have to fight everyone to prove that I’m right. This all probably sounds a bit self centered maybe, but I’m tired of fighting.

I got tired of fighting very early on because I’ve always had to do it. I’ve given up before and when I did I just stayed silent. I let people hurt me and destroy every part of me. Why waste my voice when nobody listens? As I’ve gotten older, I’ve tried to speak up more for myself and call out a problem if I feel it necessary to. Now, just as much or maybe even more than ever, I still get shut down when I voice my opinion on a matter. I find it extremely difficult to have my own opinion on things due to years of being silent and following the crowd. If I actually have an opinion on something now, it means a lot. I know a lot more about myself and how I function now than I did when I was younger so if something is affecting me on a level where I can’t function properly, there is a problem somewhere in this situation. I think a lot, so I will have analyzed every aspect of myself to see where I am wrong. I am always wrong, so you all tell me, so I can pick that out straight away. If I don’t find anything, it’s more than likely the cause for this problem is you. I know I can’t always be right in this judgement because that is impossible, but don’t you think it’s possible that I am right in more cases than you give me credit for?

It would be nice if you at least listened. Maybe we could even reach more a compromise. I could be right in somethings and so could you, instead of me just being wrong in everything I say. I know you never listen to me ever, and that might never change. Do you ever listen to yourself? That could change the game a little. If you actually listened to what you are saying sometimes, you might realise how wrong you can be. You are not god’s gift or something perfect, you can also be wrong. I see myself as always being wrong because that’s what I’ve always been told. So as angry and upset as I get when you tell me I’m wrong, yet again, it just ends up being another line on the tally sheet. I’m used to it. I don’t like being used to it, but that’s the truth. This is also something that would affect my mental health and how I think about things. I will always blame myself. Everything is my fault. No one can change my mind on that, only I can. Believe me, if I do something wrong to you, no matter how small it might seem, I will feel awful about it. I will make myself feel even worse about it than you might ever try to make me feel about it. If you ever give out to me about something, there is a guarantee that I will cry the second you leave the room. I know I’ve done wrong and a confrontation about it will make me feel like I have failed you and have failed the world and I will feel scared. Scared that you won’t forgive me. Scared that I won’t forgive myself. Scared about what I will do to myself. Being given out to in person, is the scariest thing for me. It affects me more than anything else. It makes me feel so many emotions and makes me feel physically sick.

If I let myself think for too long, or if I’m alone with my thoughts for too long without a distraction, I will make myself feel awful. I’ve been using Netflix over the last few days to make my brain focus on something so that my thoughts don’t focus on me. If they focus on me, they will poison me. I know a lot about my thoughts and feelings. More than most of you know about your own. I think my therapist was somewhat impressed/shocked by how much I understood about my own thoughts. I know too that I am the only one who can get myself out of a dark place and shake off any thoughts that are dark and bringing me down. No doctor or therapist can help there. I know how to pull myself out of those dark times. My problem is wanting too. I can stop cutting very easily. I don’t do it very often. I know it’s not a solution but I don’t hate doing it. I hate having to hide it but I also hate having to explain it without sounding crazy. I’m not that crazy, I’m more so troubled and damaged. I could fix myself but I don’t want to. I’m hoping through my continued therapy sessions that I find a reason or hopefully reasons, to better myself. I have no consistent or strong enough reason to fix myself. I have a reason to act like I’m fixed sometimes but acting can’t last forever. I’ve gotten tired of acting 24/7. It’s easier to stay quiet and not let anyone know how much my insides ache at every movement and how I have constant headaches as every new thought feels like I’m stabbing my brain with a blunt knife.  With silence, no one can tell that every emotion I feel is like having my heart compressed until there is no more feeling in it.

Scared Fearless

I'm not afraid of the dark anymore.
I'm a permanent resident in it now.
Light is no where to be seen,
That is unless you're not me.

I fear the people around me
They don't live in the dark,
Or at least,
Not in my dark.

They don't understand.
They don't try.
They can't comprehend it.
They can't even lie.

They don't see me.
They see what they want.
This isn't real,
But maybe I'm not real.

Days get longer,
Life gets shorter.
They get older,
I get closer.

Death is unreal,
It might suit me better.
I'm already near enough to the ground.
Why not get closer?

I talk, 
No one listens.
They talk,
I always listen.

I care too much.
I'm too nice.
I can't say no.
I hate lying.

I must be honest.
I can't be,
I always say yes.
I want to scream no.

I don't know who I am.
I don't know what to tell you.
I just need someone,
Someone who tries to understand.

I don't think they exist.
I won't let them exist.
I want myself to fail.
I want you to stop me.

I live to have attention.
I hate people looking at me.
Eye contact scares me.
I'd die for attention.

Don't hold me,
Telling me,
It'll be ok.
It won't be.

Hold me tightly,
Tell me I'm loved,
Keep saying it until I believe it.

I don't think I'll ever believe it.
I don't trust anyone.
Everyone wants to hurt me.
They even do it without trying.

I rarely say I love you,
I need to believe,
Believe that you are not one to hurt me,
I hesitate.

I find it hard to write,
I find it harder to say.
If I love you,
That doesn't go away.

Love is unreal
It doesn't suit me.
I get too attached.
I have too much hope in people.

I hope,
I know not to expect anything,

I hope that you'll be there.
I don't expect you to be.
I hope I find my purpose.
I don't expect to.

I know nothing.
Our only similarity.
I know you.
Wish you could know about me?

You don't,
Maybe ask a question.
Maybe take an interest.
Don't brush over the difficult things.

I don't hate you.
I sometimes want to hate you.
I hate how you make me feel.
I hate that you don't care.

Pink Training ’17 And My “Secret” Crush Is Revealed!!

I’m still on such a positive high even after coming home from the most amazing weekend that I’ve probably ever had. It’s hard to put into words how wonderful this weekend has been but either way I’m going to try!

Let’s start with my arrival in Galway, a place I had never been before. The city and the hostel that we stayed in were great and I can’t wait for the next time I get to back there which I have no idea when that will be. My delegation arrived to NUIG early so we had time to relax and register before most of the other colleges arrived. As a delegation, we went to the Sult bar and had a drink. I think the best thing about this though is that it was a good bonding session for us ahead of the weekend. I just loved how decorated the campus was for Christmas and it just made me love NUIG so much that I would actually consider transferring to there.

Next, we all split up and headed into our icebreakers which I was quite nervous about because I never liked it last year. However, I had such a good time and talked to so many people from different colleges which really helped make the weekend more comfortable socially for me for the rest of the weekend. Our facilitator for our icebreaker was lovely and great so I think that helped it a bit. Leading on from that then was the opening speeches and the Lip Sync Battle. I was so happy to see such amazing lip syncs especially since this is only the 2nd time they’ve ran this event at Pink Training.  We then went out and had a good time, the highlight of it being learning how to say “YAAAASSS Queen” in Sign Language. We were all kind of taking it easy drink wise because we wanted to being alert and not too tired for attending all the workshops on Saturday. To be fair, we actually were fine and made it into the college on time for the plenary talk at half 9 on Saturday morning.

So every year, the first of the workshops starts with having Coming Out Spaces for the various sexual orientations and gender identities, as well as a talk for allies to support someone who is coming out. I never went to them last year but I wanted to make the most out of my Pink Training experience this year.  This year it wasn’t necessarily specified as to what each space was to be representing but in the context of the whole I went to what I would consider the Bisexual Coming Out Space. This set up my whole weekend and I heard stories that made me feel empowered to fight against the likes of bi-phobia, even though I don’t identify as bi myself I feel so much more comfortable in bi spaces sometimes because as someone who identifies as asexual we also face similar phobic behaviour from people. I went to it with a member of my delegation who does identify as bi and she told her coming out story and that’s changed a bit of a perspective, don’t know if that’s the word I’m looking for, on my own situation. This being because, I’ve had a crush on her for well over a year and a half and her story made me feel liberated to tell her that about my crush, which I did that night before we went out, but I’ll come back to that later.

This got even better as I moved onto my next workshop which was ‘Too Gay To Function’. The two speakers we had for that were unreal. The whole workshop was extremely interactive and I learned so much in the way of positive coping mechanisms for stress and also I learned about the phrase ‘minority stress’ which I constantly have about every aspect of my life so while I was aware of it, I didn’t know what it was called. One of the ways we found to be a positive coping mechanism was through group chants. We banged our hands on the table to create a beat and then some said a word that we would then shout out a few times and then change to a new word. The one that will stick out the most in my mind was yelling out the word ‘penis’ a couple of times.

I then went to ‘There’s Something Queer Around Here’,  in which we heard about the first times people had heard the word queer and the context in which it was used.  I found it interesting but I think it was very drawn out because there was a lot of us in the room giving a lot of similar answers and that took up most of the workshop. While it was important to hear, it just seemed very long.

Next, I went to another bisexual workshop again because I’m all for fighting against bi erasure which is prominent both in and outside of the LGBTQIA+ community. It was called ‘What Does Bisexual Politics Look Like?’ We did a bit of a game where we had to pick answers to questions and it was multiple choice but the answers were all bisexual stereotypes and intended to sound ridiculous. We then wrote a bi agenda as a group which felt extremely necessary to create and it ended up really well.

Now, this next talk is one that is close to my heart and I missed this talk last year so I’ve been waiting so long for this it’s unreal. It was ‘Asexuality 101’ and I wouldn’t necessarily say I learned something in it but that was never my reason for attending it because I know a lot about the topic anyways. My reason to go to it was to finally feel the acceptance that my sexuality is valid and is real because up until that talk I didn’t have that. I usually just tell people I’m a lesbian because saying I’m a homo-romantic asexual takes too long to explain and no one believes it exists. I also like the fact that this workshop informed so many people about what asexuality is when beforehand they hadn’t previously known much about it. I think it made it more interesting that I was there with my friend from my delegation was there and watching her learn about these different terms and asking questions that she easily could have asked me but never did. Either way her learning about this no matter where it’s from is so important. Of all the talks she could have gone to I was so happy that she decided to go to that one.

After that wonderful workshop, I went to ‘Feelin’ Repealin” which was being given by someone who has been the main reason I am so involved in all things to do with the student movement and the SU in my college. I always feel the need to go to any talk that is in relation to Repeal the 8th because while I know a lot about it I’m always trying to be very careful with how I word things if I get asked about it and why I want the 8th repealed. The workshop helped a lot and I got some great merch from it. I feel a little bit more confident in answering questions in relation to Repeal the 8th.

Last, but certainly not least, I went to a workshop on Consent. This was really was also really interactive. I felt like I was in a good space, however when in came to the group stuff I didn’t really give any input I just sat there and listened which is always a lot more beneficial to me anyway in workshops like this where I only know definitions and such but not the actual actions of consent. I always thought consent had to be verbal but I learned about some of the non-verbal ways in which consent can be given. After that we had talks from Microsoft and from activists that were so empowering and amazing.

I’m going to move onto the Sunday and then I’ll come back to Saturday night. So we missed the talk in the morning because we got the campus a little bit after the workshops had started so other than like learning about queer history and hearing the closing speeches in the plenary, I was only at one workshop. I went to the ‘Asexual Safe Space’ which I think was kind of necessary to go to because I’ve never felt like my identity as an asexual has ever been truly accepted and/or acknowledged and it was important that I got that seeing as it is a major part of my identity. There was only 4 of us in the room, including me, and while there was one or two awkward pauses because we didn’t know what to say I think it was a good session. I shared my story about my news from Saturday night which I’m going to refer to as my ‘Pink Training Coming Out’, because I told my friend I have a crush on her. I also shared my story about how my Nan once jokingly asked was my female friend that I was texting my girlfriend and when I told her no, she said “Well, either way it wouldn’t matter if she was!”. That got a collective awe in the room and it’s really the only time I’ve been told that by my family, which I guess is fair enough since I’ve never come out to them.

Now I’ll talk about Saturday night, kind of, it’s more so going to be about me telling my friend I have a crush on her and how now after Pink Training this is going to affect me. So the two of us went out for a cigarette and if you’ve read my blogs before I’ve have a pseudonym I’ve used for her which is Jodi, and to make this whole thing easier to write I will be referring to her as that. So we were outside having a smoke and I said to her than when we get back to Tralee that I wanted to talk to her about something and that it was a secret I was keeping from her for almost 2 years. She asked me if I was comfortable sharing it at that moment while we were outside and since it was just the two of us I decided that I would tell her. I didn’t want to leave Pink Training really without telling her because I was worried that I would lose all that confidence and liberation that I felt from being there. I said “So for the last year and a half, well a bit more than that, I’ve had a crush on you.” I already knew that she knew because I would talk about her all the time to practically anyone who would listen so everyone our mutual friends knew but I had never made it known  to her myself. My main fear was that she would be like “Yeah I already knew that, and I don’t care. But now that you’ve told me we never have to talk about it again!” I was also scared that it would ruin our friendship and she’d find it weird. Luckily, that didn’t happen which I should have known because that’s not the kind of person she is. Instead she said that she was happy I told her and was really nice and cool about it. Towards the end of the night when we were all just kind of hanging around near the Christmas markets in our group outside the pub she did something which was really cute and I wish it happened when I was more sober so I could remember it better. She came over to me and gave me a really long hug, and said something which might sound made up but I do have a good memory and I do remember some of what she actually said. She said “I love you and you have all my heart.” Which at the time I didn’t really pay attention to the second part and responded with “I love you too, and I don’t say that to anyone ever!!” She said “I know and I do feel privileged about that”.  Also she rang me on Sunday morning to say she wouldn’t be into the talks until later and instead of saying hi she said “Sandra Moynihan, queen of the gays and queen of my heart, how are ya?” If there was ever I time I couldn’t cope with her, it was this weekend.

I had a talk with her today to kind of discuss the whole crush thing a bit more. I didn’t want to do it at Pink Training because I wanted to be sober and have a conversation that wasn’t going to be interrupted. I explained some of the struggles I’ve had to coming to terms with this crush when I realized that I had it, how it was sometimes the root to a few of my problems and left me feeling very down and unlovable. Sometimes those dark days would make me feel so bad that I had done things to myself that I since regret. Although she knew I had a crush on her, in the first few months of it when the obsession was real, I was doing things that she probably wasn’t aware had any link to that. She had a crush on someone about a year ago and was getting quite close to them and I was so angry but only to a minor degree was due to jealousy. I was angry because she wasn’t being treated well and it was making her upset which I really hated to see. In turn, that probably added to the jealousy a little because in my mind I was like “Why does she like someone like that? I wouldn’t treat her like that! What’s wrong with me?” I do know now that you can’t help who you fall in love with, the only thing you can do is decide how you’re going deal with it. I’ve always had a past of skipping meals, but this wasn’t always intentional, but when it was it was usually because I was feeling extra fat and wanted to lose weight but this method of skipping meals doesn’t help with changing anything much. I thought maybe if I was skinnier she might like me. That was the first thing I tried to change, but this only lasted for a few months.I also used to try and wear makeup on days I knew I’d be seeing her. I think I also tried changing how I would react to her. Up until I started trying to change myself, I would always laugh at every little joke she said because I either found it genuinely funny or a little stupid. I tried not to laugh as much because that’s doesn’t seem cool and it’s not appealing. I don’t really know what I hoped to achieve by doing this but it didn’t make me happy because I like laughing. I eventually got over that and now we are just constantly laughing all the time because we’re both just happy idiots with a sometimes stupid sense of humour. Something else I regret, and I will regret it for the rest of my life no matter what, is when I let my jealousy and pent up feelings get the better of me and I actually got angry at her. I couldn’t give her a reason for why I was angry without giving my crush away so it made it a lot worse. I think she thought I hated her and I was really giving out to her, I turned into a monster for a few minutes. I made her cry. I really upset her and while I can deal with the fact that it’s all over and every time now I re-apologize for it she says it’s grand and we’re past that, I will never ever forgive myself for it. That was the beginning of a downward spiral in which I was bottling up a lot of feelings in order to make sure that I never did that to her again, and thankfully I haven’t. This downward spiral is only starting to ease now and I’ll be starting talk therapy sessions soon with a medical professional so I’ll be talking about this a lot more and hopefully getting some ways to cope with it and get better. That’s not the only reason I’m getting therapy but it should be beneficial to dealing with this better on a long term basis. I know for the most part this crush thing sounds like it’s been a lot more bad than good, however, there are a lot of good things that it’s done as well. While never in these last two years I ever expected, or ever really wanted, a relationship to come out of this I liked the idea that in some alternative universe if it happened how amazing it could be. As unrealistic an idea as it was, it was always something that made me feel happy for a little while but I know I can’t keep living my life in the wonderful world of dreams. The main thing is that no matter what our friendship has never changed and only has gotten better as time has gone on. As someone who experiences a lot of social anxiety she’s always been able to make me feel at ease and I’ve always felt like I could talk to her about anything. She listens to me rant about everything on a daily basis, when everything sucks and I feel like everyone would be living a better life if I just ended mine, she reminds that I do have a purpose in life and that I am loved by her and so many people. She makes me laugh all the time and she makes me feel like I am funny which is my main goal in life and making her laugh is just a plus and makes me really happy too!

So it might be a while before I get over this, that’s if I ever actually do. I value our friendship more than anything else so I would never try and push anything further. Unfortunately unlike ‘Lush Life’, while this is a crush and I might have went and said too much, I haven’t given it up!! I’m going to end this with two final things and in the gayest way I know how. Jodi, I love you and I think you’re perfect!!!

3rd Year, You Are Going To Kill Me!!

I had such high hopes for 3rd year. I had witnessed two groups ahead of me doing this year and from them I thought the year sounded interesting. I mean this is the year I finally got to do a script writing module which was exciting and fun for about 3 weeks but then it lost its appeal, but I’ll come back to that!

4 out of 6 of my modules have group projects. This might not be two bad if the groups were more varied and I had a chance to work with a lot of different people because right now having mostly the same groups for 3 of these groups is confusing. For two of them I don’t have so much of a problem with the group thing because I do think it’s necessary in order to get the project done right. What I can’t stand is the need for Media Writing, my script writing module, being s group project. The group component of this too is a big part of the overall final grade which, I’m sorry, is utter bullshit. This project is writing a script plus a few other things for a 10 minute feature. Could someone please explain to me the absolute necessity why this needs to be a group project??  I would gladly write that myself. This isn’t because I have an idea that I’m “really precious and protective over” like my lecturer asked me multiple times, as if I’m actually the problem as to why this group dynamic isn’t working. Ever since I was in junior infants, I’ve had a massive fear of every authority figure. Since being in college, I’ve been finding it a bit easier to deal with authority figures because I’ve had lecturers that are respectful, understanding and that listen. That was up until yesterday when a lecturer approached me and addressed a problem I had with my group which I had emailed her about the night before. First of all, it was the day of the college open day which I was working for so I thought it was extremely inappropriate to bring up the subject while I was working at the stand for my course. I also felt very intimidated and small because I was sitting down and she was standing over me. It also seemed like she was very close to my face but that was probably because the place was loud with students and music. All those things made me feel uncomfortable especially the last thing because I don’t like eye contact and because she was so close to me I couldn’t avoid it and she was talking to me for much too long. She kept saying things to me like “in a real job you’ll have to deal with loads of people you don’t like and you’ll just have to deal with it”. I’m sick of this excuse. I’ve been in this course for 3 years, I get that’s what a real job will be like but guess what? This is not a real job, it is a college course. Being a college student isn’t cheap and I expect to get the most out of my education. I’d would have expected my lecturers would want me to succeed, but I guess that’s not always the case. My grade in this particular module would be so much better if I was in a different group, or better yet by myself. Also I should mention that my current ambition for when I finish my course is to be a script writer for TV so this module was the one I was the most excited for and should have been the most beneficial for me but unfortunately that’s not the case. When I finished having this super unhelpful “conversation” with that lecturer I ran into on if the recording booths in the radio studio and burst into tears. Not because I can’t change groups but the fact that now that the lecturer has told me not only by email but also now face to face, I can’t take this any further, to any higher power within the college. 

I have never asked for much since starting this course. Rarely have I ever asked for extensions, and this is the VERY FIRST TIME I have asked to change a group. The argument that the other groups are much further along in their story development shouldn’t matter because most of them have not even started to write anything yet. She tells me that she’s sympathetic but she shows me that she’s far from that. I guess now would be a good time to let my script writing dream die because this module is killing my love for that, and my love for other things as well. 

Another reason as to why I’m currently hating 3rd year, is because of another lecturer. I won’t even mention what they teach because you don’t need to know who they are and it’s not like they teach me anything in that module. I’ve skipped a lot of these classes because the lecturer makes me so angry and what makes me angry also is that my classmates have the ability to laugh at what he says because of how ridiculous it all is. I wish I had that ability because it would make my life so much easier. However, I can’t laugh at constant racist remarks, stories and videos he has us watch. I get angry at this and also the pointlessness of having 3 hours of this module a week and not learning a single thing. 

These last couple of weeks, I’ve started to feel invisible again like I’m starting to fade away again. I feel like my voice isn’t heard and therefore my voice is not important, not that I’ve ever thought it was. I’m glad I have a support system there to help me because if I didn’t I definitely would have given up by now. I am currently physically, mentally and emotionally drained. I’ve also been feeling a bit disconnected and less of a human when I’m in college and more of a number on a page. 

World Mental Health Day 2017

So I wrote a blog about this two years ago when I was less than a month into my first year of college and before I go on I’d suggest that you read that first because it’s quite interesting!

In the two years that have passed since then a lot of things have changed in my life. I know not only just have friends, I have a plethora of friends something which upon entering college didn’t seem possible. Although in that blog I do talk about my first real college memory. It was the first time I felt like I was part of a group. I didn’t feel too much like a tag along and I had one of the best days ever. The day that the college experienced a power cut is one of the most vivid memories I have at college. The amazing thing about thinking back to that memory is that I didn’t know then how much some of those people would impact my life, and impact it for the better. Like Dexter was the one who invited me to go with the group, he was sitting at the table with my classmate and I. We went back to his house afterwards with Jodi and, I think this is the name I gave him, Tab. I laughed so much that day I actually nearly pissed myself. I loved it and I’m so glad I have that memory of when friendships were just starting to form. 

The difference is that now, while those friendships are still there and still strong, I think, I seem to be on a mission of self sabotage and am trying to make a mess of things. For the last two week and a half weeks, which has been the aftermath of me going to the doctor, my mental health has been good and on some days even amazing. The few weeks leading up to that doctors appointment I was awful. I started cutting again, well cutting my arm again I was cutting my leg all summer long. I realised at some point just before I cut my arm the last time, which required a bandage, that I went back to cutting my arm because I wanted attention. When I say that I more so mean, a cry for help. I wanted people, or at least certain people because I always seem very particular about who I want to know about these things, to see that I was struggling. I was having a hard time and I needed support. Which I did get and am so thankful that I have that support, even if this week it might not seem like. Before the bandage incident, I had been discussing my mental health with the Welfare Officer and we had a walk and a chat which was lovely. She organised another one for the following week, which I was excited about because I thought it would be a regular thing which would have been great. Totally my fault that that stopped because said bandage incident happened and our chat got changed to her accompanying me to the nurse because I wanted her there with me. Then the following week I went to the doctor on my own, told her how that went and that was that. To be fair, I see her everyday and god knows after 2 years she’s sick to death of me and my constant mood swings and low self esteem. The reasons however that I wish this walk and chat, or just sit and chat because I do enough walking, was regular is that it’s something for me to look forward too. Again, I see her everyday I know but there is some things I don’t want to talk to her about when there’s loads of people around her. I guess I kind of miss how we used to hangout in the radio studio in the evenings and a have a laugh (why I am crying right now, I haven’t cried for weeks and weeks and yet just thinking about this gets me teary eyed in an instant). So that reason is from a friendship point of view. From a personal, probably selfish point of view, I just want to be noticed. Not just a nod in the hallways or part of a big group conversation, I want to talk to someone one on one to remind myself that I am an individual. I sometimes forget that I am my own person I just feel like there is an invisible tether between me and groups of friends that doesn’t let me stray too far from the pack. Any ways, I just want someone to acknowledge that I’m here and when they ask about my day/week that they actually want to know the answer and will listen to the few little things that happened. To be fair I have that person/persons to an extent. The extent tends to be limited by me because I’m afraid to start the conversation. Especially since I’m not a fan of texting and messenger as its not personal enough, how do I know a robot is contriving these responses through my online presence and what I’ve posted to the Internet in the last 9 years. I love phone calls its just personal enough where I can hear the persons voice but we don’t have to look at each other i.e. They won’t be watching me will I fidget with something and avoid eye contact with them. 

It might seem like a need I therapist and I probably do, but there is other things I need too and it is those very simple conversations that might seem insignificant to someone but mean the world to me. This week I’ve just been trying to avoid people altogether, I just felt really angry all day yesterday so I know if I came into contact with most people I would just yell  at them for no reason because I was filled with so much anger. I had to get Dexter to come out of the 4th year project room because the main thing I needed more than anything was a hug, and I knew he wasn’t going to judge me for wanting a hug which from primary school experiences I still feel like people will judge me for wanting a hug. I don’t want to build his ego up, like I tend to do whenever I mention him in these blogs, but I don’t think I give him enough credit for how much he helps me. He said to me yesterday that I need to trust people and that not everybody has some malicious hidden agenda where they’re intent on hurting me, some people are just genuinely caring/looking out for me. I think he’s the only person that I could confide in completely and not fear that he’ll judge me or think I’m weird in a bad way. He’s been the best friend I’ve made in this college and I wouldn’t have made it to 3rd year without him. Ok sentiment is over, he’s not on placement anymore so I can actually talk to him in person again, not that I’d say all this to him in person though!

Should I Tell My Parents About My Ongoing Mental Health Problems?

This isn’t a question in which I want your answer. I know what you’re going to say. You are going to say that I should tell them because it’s better to be open and honest about these things otherwise I’m bottling things in and keeping secrets from them. However, my answer would be no, I shouldn’t tell them. I feel very strongly about this and while no one is forcing me to tell them or telling me that I have to do it, I feel like there is a strong sense of annoyance/confusion as to why I won’t tell them.

My relationship with my parents has changed a lot throughout the years and the main thing I have learned is that they won’t find things funny the way I do and they have concerns over certain things I do. I get it. They care about me, they only want what’s best for me and all that shite. I used to tell my parents everything. Everything that happened at school. Every conversation I had with my friends. Every fight and confrontation I had. Everything I was feeling. I reckon I stopped doing this when I was in around 2nd year of secondary school so like 5/6 years ago. Sometimes they would be supportive and helpful and I might even feel better. However, a majority of the time anything that happened to me was my fault. When my friends left me, at the end of first year because they realised they didn’t like me anymore, I got zero sympathy from my parents in the beginning. That was the point in time in which I was most upset about the situation. They kept asking me what I did wrong. They kept saying is was up to me to fix it and I should try really hard to make things right. They couldn’t wrap their heads around the fact that I did nothing wrong. My friends and I just grew apart and we all knew that nothing was going to fix that. That event in my life has shaped a lot about how I am as a person now. How I handle and portray my emotions is always linked to that. The fact that I have the constant fear of that happening again. The fact that I do things that would actually now give someone the reason to leave me because I push people away because I don’t want to be hurt again.

When they finally began to accept that my friends were now gone out of my life and I was left with no one they started to go a little easier on me. I wasn’t blamed as much. Anytime I went to school, and still to this day , they would ask me “So, who were hanging out with in school today?” During that time and for the following few years the answer would either be no one, which they disliked because they want me becoming the loner which I did become, or else I would have actually been with people in my class that I got on with but never really connected with to a great extent. The second one made them happier because their child was normal, their child had friends or at least friends according to my parents. It was that point on that I went through my angst ridden teenage stage of “my parents just don’t understand me”. Which I still feel like they don’t but I pick and choose now what I tell them about. For me, this is a lot easier. If I did tell them everything that has been going on, I would be riddled with questions especially by my mother. My mother wrecks my head enough as is, I don’t need that getting any worse. She has this ability of making me feel really bad even when I’m having the best day. Either by giving out to me for some reason or another, or else telling me all the little things I need to do that have no real purpose. Practically all the reasons I don’t want to tell my parents about any of this relate to my mother because she’s the one that would just make this all a lot worse.

With that in mind, another reason as to why I don’t want to tell them is, their perceptions of mental health. My mother always says things whenever that topic comes up being like “Well thank god you and your brother don’t have any problems like that.” I’m pretty sure one of the times she said this she also then said “I don’t know how we’d cope” as in how they would cope with my brother or I having problems. As if, the burden is on them and they are the ones dealing with a mind of chaos and sadness. Anytime I have told my mother about any friends I have that have gone through things, she always have a judging look on her face and I think has questioned the odd time whether they are a good person for me to be hanging around with because what if it rubs off on me. What if I get infected by the treacherous depression virus or self-harmitis. I’ve definitely been told a few times to be careful around said people and to yes be there for them and support them but not to any massive capacity. I think my mother’s logic when is comes to this is that if someone’s mental health is bad they’re going to be that way forever so there’s not much help you can be to someone.

Even when I do nothing wrong I can still get in trouble. If I get home on the late bus from college I can get in trouble. I’m sorry I’m focused on my education, I’m sorry I can’t get a job to support myself, I’m sorry if I’m tired when I get home and are less than talkative. I have a life to live and I shouldn’t have to follow a set of guidelines that my parents have set for me. I’m sorry I can’t pass every exam I ever do. I’m sorry that I’m a disappointment and not going to go on to become some scientist or science lecturer in the years to come like my brother probably will as he will soon be starting his PhD. I’m sorry I chose a course that has no definite promise of a job at the end. I’m sorry I don’t have a passion for anything. I’m sorry I’d rather spend some nights with my friends instead of you. I’m sorry I want to live a life that is mine. I’m sorry that I’m me and I’m not more like this girl or this daughter of one of your friends who is going off right now to do great things. I’m sorry I want to write and probably not make money for a good couple of years if that is the career path I choose to take. I’m sorry I want to be so involved in the student movement. I don’t want to feel sorry for having bad mental health yes part of it is my own fault but not entirely. It’s been effected by an accumulation of events and moments from the last 19 years. I don’t want to feel sorry for trying to get help on my own with your permission. You just would have forced me to go see your doctor who I have never met and have no intention of meeting.

If I told my parents what’s wrong with me, I think my home would feel like a prison. They wouldn’t know what to do with me so they probably would be very cautious about where they would let me go and would probably make sure I was supervised at all times. I already feel trapped in this house at times, I don’t want that to get worse. They might stop me from seeing certain people because they might have influenced my bad mental health either because of their own struggles or else for no reason at all. You might wonder how they could control all these things but believe me they would find a way.

This whole thing might sound confusing and not make sense to anyone. This could be just one long ramble of nothingness but I feel like it makes enough sense and I can’t change how I feel about this and I don’t think anyone can talk me into changing my mind. If I do ever tell them it will be in my own time which probably will be another few years away yet. While I might not be the best one to make this judgment because I’m biased and want to assure people that this isn’t a problem, me not telling my parents about this stuff is actually better for my mental health. You might not think it does but maybe I’m just a pro at hiding things. I do it everyday! I don’t have the energy right now to stand my ground and defend MY feelings and MY emotions to my parents. They would try to fight me on it in some way and I just can’t have that in my life right now because it will just make things worse. I’d appreciate anyone who decided to read this not to fight me on this either. I don’t mind if you ask me if I’ve told them, but please don’t tell me that I should tell them at least not more than once. If you’ve made your point once, I have heard it, I don’t block these things out and I have a good memory. I will remember what you told me. I know you are saying it because you think I will benefit from it but please hear me out when I tell you that I won’t.