An Empathetic Gesture.

The third time I went to A&E to insist that something was wrong with my mental state, I went alone. It was a Monday, I had spent the weekend sobbing feeling overwhelmed at the thought of leaving my bed and I’d had enough. I’d been accompanied the last two times I went to A&E and having other opinions in the mix made me ignore my instincts and back down from what I was certain that I needed-to be hospitalised.

I don’t know where that certainty arose from. I’d never known anyone who went to a psychiatric hospital before, but I knew I wouldn’t make it through if I tried to heal myself on my own.

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Am I a Victim or a Survivor?

I would definitely label myself a survivor, but sometimes it’s been to my own detriment. I saw it as my responsibility to overcome my obstacles that were in my way. I burdened myself with a need to handle different situations in a “correct” way.

It was really harmful to think this way and ultimately it lead me to burn out. By the time I arrived in the hospital, I had exhausted my defence mechanisms. I was completely vulnerable to anything and everything

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I Need Your Help

A common theme in my writing is the harassment I get on the street and through other experiences in my day-to-day life. I’ve never sugarcoated or been shy of talking about it. I hoped that doing this would help to improve things. I hoped it would make people think about their actions. But who am I kidding? None of those people are reading my writing.

This harassment has always come in waves. At different points in the year (sunny days, occasions for a lot of drinking) the harassment will get worse. At other points in the year, my days are relatively untouched by dickheads. But I’ve noticed something lately.

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Reasons I’m Not Grateful for my Mental Illness

It’s difficult to find any reason to be grateful for my mental illness. I could go on all day about shitty things that I have to put up with, but here are some things that people may not understand about the nature of both depression and anorexia. They don’t just make you sad and hungry. They affect almost every aspect of your life.

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Reasons I’m Grateful for my Mental Illness.

There are so many reasons that I’m not grateful for my mental illness. I’ll be writing about those soon, but I thought I’d start with the positives. It’s snowing outside and I’m feeling cosy and I don’t want to have to think about the ways which I’ve suffered. Adversity brings good things with it. And being ill has definitely improved my character in a number of ways.

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I Have Low Self Esteem (Who Knew?)

I was participating in one of the therapeutic workshops that my life seems to consist of these days when we began discussing low self esteem. It came as quite a shock to me to realise that I suffer from it. You may scoff and think “Laylah Beattie? Low self esteem? Bitch where?” And I would have thought the same. But when I heard the details of this particular affliction, I realised that I really do fit the bill.

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Mourning my Twenties

I concluded my last collection of essays with a rather bleak ending. I’d just had my first hospitalisation because I was at the beginning of an extreme breakdown and I promised that by the next time you heard from me, I would have tried my best to recover.

I have many amazing childhood memories, but through therapy I’ve come to the realisation that I spent too much of my childhood thinking things that I really shouldn’t have. Issues about gender identity and extreme confusion that no child should have to deal with. In a way, I feel like I was robbed of the “normal” childhood experience.

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Building My Nest.

It was a couple of weekends into my stay at the psychiatric hospital when I was introduced to the concept of the wellness toolbox. It was described to me as a physical box which has a number of things in it that will bring you comfort in times of high emotion. It was suggested that it should be kept near your bed or somewhere that would be easily accessible to you in times of need.

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#MeToo

I’ve intended to write about this for almost a year now. But for some reason, every time I’ve thought about it, something has made me put it off. This is going to be difficult, but I’m reassured by the courage of everyone who has spoken out before me about this very important issue. I had a scary sexual experience with a man in power. I’m terrified to admit this.

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