*This is a positive post but I do talk about self-harm and you may find it triggering, so please don’t read if you’re feeling vulnerable*



I feel in a different mindset today. I had a moment yesterday when I realised my energy has been focused on the wrong things… I’ve been trying to give a voice to all the painful emotions I feel, by explaining what’s gone on, defending myself, expressing my anger and my hurt and thinking about how to ‘fix’ things that are broken in my life.

I finally realised all of that energy is being wasted… I should have been focusing on giving myself the things I wanted others to give me. I need to be a friend to myself… I need to forgive myself… I need self-compassion… I need to apologise to myself and comfort myself…. reassure myself and build myself back up.

I have also decided to try and stop self-harming. It has become such a problem recently that I have hurt myself every single day, at least once, mainly by hitting myself with an instrument. I found myself in a situation where I have cut myself so much in one area, that my skin isn’t behaving normally anymore, so I am unable to tell how deep I am actually going. It always looks like I’ve not gone as deep as usual, so I keep going, not realising I’ve gone deeper than usual – I now realise how dangerous it is … and it was only a few days back that I hit something… I don’t know what, but I felt a different sensation and it freaked me out. I would hazard a guess I nicked a tendon. The problem is I cannot tell. I have bruised a tendon in my arm twice in my life… both within the last year or so…. I know what it feels like…. but where I’ve been hitting myself, sometimes in that area, I now don’t know if I’ve damaged the tendon by cutting, or if it’s just bruising from hitting. So in a way that contributed to me feeling something has to change. I have to let that arm heal so I can tell what damage exists. I’ve not given it a moment to heal. I’ve felt like I have to be in constant physical pain, partly because I felt like I deserved it, but also because it felt better than feeling how I did emotionally. It’s been hell.

I’ve been so focused on what I’ve lost, that I have overlooked what I have. I have had people be so kind to me recently… caring, supportive, encouraging and showing me the love I’ve wanted from others. I’m going to take all their kindness, pair it with self-compassion, and I’m going to write…. every time I feel angry, upset, or feel like hurting myself, I’m going to write a compassionate letter to myself (first one will come in the next day or two) – I may share them here… I might not. But I’m not going to let what’s happened destroy me. I have allowed it to… especially in the last six months… but not anymore.

A lot of my anger has been about how unjust a situation has been for me. It’s anger that I’ve not been treated right. Instead of focusing all that anger at those not treating me right, I want to try and transform it into treating myself right. Stop chasing them for things I fail to give myself. I don’t need them to see my worth in order to see it myself. I want to try and fix what they’ve broken in me.

It’s a long road ahead. I know stopping self-harm won’t happen overnight. I’ve managed to get through today without any at all, although I had a couple of urges. It will be hard. But for months I’ve not even contemplated stopping. I wanted to keep going. I didn’t care. So it’s a major step to even think I need to stop. I just know I need help.

I have my assessment with the CMHT this week. I don’t expect much to come from it, but you never know. Otherwise I’m just taking things a day at a time. If I slip up then so be it. At least I’m facing the right direction at last, even if I have quite a few large steps yet to take, to get to where I’m going.

I’m facing away from what has hurt me and towards a better future. I didn’t deserve the things that happened in the last year. I know that. This is where I make a change. This is where I stop giving my energy away and turn negatives into positives and keep it for myself, and for those who love me on even my darkest days. They mean more to me than they will ever understand.





I Choose A Slow Recovery.

*Self-harm references*



I’ve realised I’m my own worst enemy at times. I have very high standards and expectations for myself, and consequently I live most of my life feeling like a failure. I need to start accepting where I am right now, and not let it define who I am as a person. I need to stop telling myself what I should be doing / where I should be by now and respect how I’m feeling and what I need in this moment.

It’s taken a lot to get to this realisation. It’s involved conversations with people at work, family, as well as responses to my blogs… but I finally see that I have to put my wellbeing first. If that means distancing myself from people… having time away from work… going back to basics, then so be it.

I’ve got to the stage I no longer seem able to do my volunteering without harming myself, either when I get home or even while I’m there. My confidence has taken a massive knock and I need to start again to build it up. Several times I’ve tried to ease myself back in, but the only time it seemed manageable was when I worked upstairs, alone. Being around people is too overwhelming right now… and feeling like I’m useless and everything I do is wrong. The risk of getting things wrong, or being shown up in front of customers, it gives me awful anxiety. I don’t feel confident or happy. I used to be able to joke with them, and serve people… I felt I belonged and it helped me to feel better about myself. I feel like a totally different person at work now.

I feel like an alien. I feel everyone thinks I’m useless, as I can’t do the things I used to do. They can’t understand I’m different now, because my mental health has deteriorated. So many times I don’t go in now. And when I do go in I’m anxious, on-edge, I’m not as chatty. I avoid getting stuck serving people or dealing with customers. If there’s not much else to do I feel it’s pointless me being there, and I’m just getting in the way. I felt that way last week when I was told to go out the back if I wasn’t happy serving people. I went out the back and hurt myself.

I’m not going in anymore. Not at the moment. And when I do I need to talk to the manager and explain that I’m not feeling good at all, and need to start from the bottom and build up again. I just don’t feel I can have that discussion at the moment, as I don’t want it to be dismissed like it has been in the past. I feel as though nobody understands the severity of my mental illness, and people just think I’m being silly, and need to stay positive.

I’ve pushed myself to try and go back to work but I fall each time. I did speak to the manager at one point about it, as I felt I was letting her down, but she said I wasn’t, and that it’s fine to not come in, as I’m ill. And after a discussion with my nan the other day, I realise I have to look after myself. My problem is that I was always viewed as one of the ‘reliable’ ones. And now I feel they’ll see me as unreliable, for not going in and not being as useful. This may be the case, but it equally might not be. Maybe I’m piling this guilt and pressure on myself. I know that when I’m well I AM reliable. But I can’t control what I’m going through right now. I didn’t choose to be this unwell. If I had a choice I’d have continued to build my confidence, and volunteer, as it was helping. If being mentally ill makes me unreliable then fine, I’m unreliable. But as a person I’m reliable. It’s the illness that’s making me this way at the moment. I have to stop thinking my inability to work defines me as a person. When I’m mentally WELL I am a person probably capable of working quite well – reliable, trustworthy, honest, hard-working… these are my qualities. But when I’m unwell these qualities can’t shine. It doesn’t mean I’m the opposite though. It’s just a time I have to put myself first, in order to find those qualities again in the future. I have to stop beating myself up for my mental illness.

Likewise with friendships – I have a tendency to think I’m a rubbish friend as I can’t be there for people. I feel things became quite one-sided, as I feel it is on Twitter and with my experience of blogging right now too…. I feel like a ‘taker’, not a ‘giver’ – and I always used to be the other way round. I used to give and not get anywhere near as much in return. That was my way of life. But now I take what little I can get, and have nothing left to give. I write blogs, but I don’t so much read. I ask for help, but cannot give it. This makes me feel selfish. This in turn makes me feel I don’t deserve friendships. I don’t deserve help or care from friends, if I’m unable to return it. So I pull away. When I do that and nobody questions if I’m okay, I assume they hate me. I feel like nobody cares, and I don’t blame them. It’s a self-pitying cycle, but it’s started by my mental illness making me unable to do the things I did before.

I used to think I was a caring, giving, generous, thoughtful friend. But when I’m as ill as I am, I ‘split’ on myself and feel I’m an awful person to have as a friend. I have to start challenging this, and hold on to the hope that I’m still that person underneath… that I still have those qualities that make me a good friend, and that they’re just hidden from view because of the depth of my illness right now. I don’t know…. I fear I’ve been changed forever. What if I never find myself again?

I hate that my family have to see me go through all this again. Whenever I harm myself I initially hide it from them, but after a while I don’t worry about it so much – it helps that I have such an understanding and supportive family. I know they accept this as a part of my mental illness. They don’t judge me. They don’t think badly of me at all. But I know it must hurt them to see me this way…. hurting myself so much again. Every time I do it I feel guilty, and like I’m letting everyone down. I want them to see me getting better, succeeding and being happy. I don’t want them to see me like this. I’m not the daughter I once was. Not at the moment. In some ways I am, but in some ways my depression has changed me and I’m not as present as I used to be. I’m really hard on myself for this too.

But again, I have to stop seeing myself as a failure, and just deal with the here and now. I shouldn’t think about all the things I haven’t achieved by this age. I need to think of the things I have overcome… the small successes… the fact I’m still alive and trying my best to keep it that way. I have to let go of the frustration of going backwards in my recovery. I have to submit to it, and prioritise self-care in order to move forward in my recovery. It will take as long as it takes to get back on track. But if I keep fighting what I’m going through, it will take longer.

If I rush through the steps, putting that much pressure on myself to be ‘better’ for those around me, I will end up going nowhere, except perhaps further backwards. So for now my life will be different. It might sound ‘lazy’ or ‘irresponsible’ of me, but I will be taking a break from the pressures of life. I have become that ill that even my hobbies bring me no joy, so I stopped doing them. This is my starting point… for the last couple of days I have been focusing on trying to bring some enjoyment back into my life. As silly as it sounds I have been playing Animal Crossing on the Wii – a simple, chilled out game which brings me comfort. I’ve also been playing guitar almost every day. Writing is another thing I’m trying to do a bit more now.

As much as I should be focusing on work, or on taking up courses or exercise, I have to do what’s right for me at this point. For now this is what my soul needs. I will gradually build on it, by venturing out walking, or joining a group… but in my own time. I’ll hopefully start going out for my ‘write nights’ I used to do… going by myself for a hot chocolate in the evening, whilst writing poetry. Just little things that can build my confidence back up. And then hopefully I’ll gradually be able to be more present for friends, and to start back at work too.

I have to realise I’m ill. If someone had a serious physical illness, they would do what was necessary to recover. They’d rest and take their time to get back on their feet. I have to do the same for my mental illness. It’s not wallowing in it. It’s not using it as an excuse to do nothing. It’s not being weak. It’s being strong enough to recognise what my mind needs, and allowing myself to do it, without piling the guilt on myself.

Just as with a physical wound, you wouldn’t leave it gaping open, untreated, susceptible to infection… you’d patch it up… cover it… protect it… allow it to heal… and you wouldn’t pick at it and re-open it. You’d allow it to become a scar – making it something in the past. I have to allow my mind to heal before exposing it to more potential trauma. This is my theory. Some may disagree. But having tried the alternative and it only adding to my illness, I have to try something new. Some may call it avoidance, I call it self-preservation. If avoidance saves my life then it’s worth doing anyway. I have to protect my mind from the world for now. I have to allow it to heal.

I hope my friends will still be there once I come out the other side. If not then I’m sorry they couldn’t understand mental illness. Work will have to wait. I’ve been putting pressure on myself as next month my colleague won’t be in, so I felt I have to be there to help out the manager… but I will crack if I push myself to do that right now. So I have to do what’s right for me. And the best thing I can do for my family is to listen to my needs, and stop fighting them. Even if people tell me what I should be doing, or what ‘might help’ me – I have the right to say no. Only I know what will help me to pull myself out of this. And I should be allowed to try it my way, without being made to feel it’s the wrong thing to do. It’s a stepped approach – starting with hobbies / interests, to at least make me think there’s something good in life, worth living for… and then getting out… socialising and working… and then hopefully I’ll get back on track to taking the next steps, beyond where I got to before. I really have gone that far backwards that it is like starting again. And the first aim has to be to get back to where I originally was. It won’t happen overnight.

My mind… my ILLNESS is telling me many unhelpful things right now, about myself… about my friends… colleagues… the world. Some may be true – others not so much. That’s why I have to just let myself feel how I feel right now, and give myself some space from these things, so as not to react to my paranoid thoughts.

I know I may have upset or offended people in the last few weeks – or at least that’s what my mind is telling me. I’d never want that, and I’m sorry. I hope in time they’ll understand this is the trouble with mental illness. I hope they never find themselves in such a dire mess as me. I also have to run the risk that people at work will talk about me, or think of me as unreliable from now on. I have to accept that as part of my decision to focus on me. I can’t do both. I can’t be reliable to them, AND look after myself. Something’s got to give. And my reputation doesn’t matter as much as my mental health. Besides my character matters more, and my character is reliable. Who cares what people think and say about me? What I know about myself matters the most. And part of my break from life will be about reminding myself who I am when I’m well.

I will practise self-compassion and listen to what my soul is trying to tell me. It’s the only way I’m going to get well. Life will have to wait for now. I will take it a little at a time, at my own pace. It’s that or I won’t take it at all. But I’m choosing a slow recovery over a swift demise, and I hope those around me can accept this, and will stick by my side in my bid to get well.  


Ideas: Crisis Box & Grounding Object.

On the first session of my group course, another member suggested something that has stuck with me, and three or four weeks before the end of the course I produced what she suggested. I created my ‘crisis box’.

I’ve had questions about this since then, so I thought I’d share it with you, to help inspire you. This is a box I can open when I feel at risk of harming myself, and it has lots of things in it to try and remind me of the good things in my life, and about self-care.

I bought a box from the Post Office, covered it in pretty wrapping paper, inside and out, and started adding things to it. I put in things like colouring books and pencils…. a spirograph thing I had as a child, with fine line pens….. a couple of dvds – these can be your favourite film, stand-up comedy, or even Disney, to comfort the child in you…. some bubbles….. a nice smelling body cream….. nail varnish in my favourite colour…… photographs of me with my Godchildren, to remind me of those who need me and bring me joy…… stress balls for when I’m angry……. a fossil, as I love fossil-hunting…… cheerleading cards – one of which is stuck to the inside of the lid, saying “Self-harm will not solve the problem…. resist the urge”…. fluffy slippers…. chocolate….and any pampering goods – anything to look after myself, nurture the child in me, and protect me from harming myself.

I created this box near the end of the course, as I kept going away from sessions and harming myself, and my family didn’t want me going to the course in the end, so I said to them, I will put the box on my chair for when I get home, so that if I feel bad I can tuck into it and resist the urge. It worked. Until the last session of course – as nothing could protect me from that level of pain I experienced. It was off the scale.

I shall share a few pictures with you, just to give you a better impression of it:


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The box, covered with wrapping paper – took an hour or two to fully cover it!



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You can personalise your own box – decorate it how you like, choose any size, as long as it fits everything in you want it to. Choose whatever items mean something to you. I didn’t put photos of my granddad in, even thought he means so much to me, because in a crisis, seeing him and feeling the loss will only upset me further. So be careful not to put anything in that might upset you in some way. They’ve got to be ‘feel-good’ items.

Here are some of the cheerleading cards I’ve put in my box – they’re not all finished, but so you get the idea:





The person who suggested it to me only attended the group for the first session, but their suggestion was the one that stuck out to me.

I really would suggest you all make one too, and see if it helps you in a time of crisis, or use it to help prevent a crisis forming if you’re on the edge of one. Have fun with it, and always keep it handy, waiting for you at home if you’re doing anything potentially stressful. I might create a mini one to carry with me. For now a grounding object will do – which for me is a ‘worry stone’ – a smooth flat stone, with a circular groove in it, to circle with your thumb. I tried different grounding objects but this one seemed to work best in the end. I can use it to calm myself down, or to keep me in reality when my mind is dragging me off somewhere I don’t want to go. My mum actually gave it to me during my course, as it used to be hers… so that when I got stressed or upset, I’d have it there, and it was symbolic, like she was there with me. I found that useful, to feel I wasn’t alone.




My grounding object.



With the lack of support out there for people like us, we’ve got to do what we can to help ourselves – so these are just a couple of ideas to hopefully help you start to do that.

All the best,





The other day I admitted to my family, how bad my mental health is. I am one of the lucky people out there, who has a supportive family. I know some people aren’t so fortunate to have that. I don’t know how I would cope if I didn’t feel the love and caring of my family.

I sat for over an hour, talking about the last week. I admitted why I keep self-harming… that when I did it that time before, it told everyone I was not okay. And then life returned to normal, and people forgot I’m still not okay. Ever since then I’ve had the urge to repeat it, to remind everyone I’m still struggling. I’ve wanted help and support, and caring. I’ve got into a bad loop, where I want to harm myself bad enough to require treatment, but haven’t wanted to reach out to anyone and admit I need that treatment. So I’ve harmed several times and just patched myself up. The last time was at therapy again, I cut my wrist. I’d wanted it to be bad, but since I was conflicted and didn’t want people to know about it again, I limited myself.

I felt ashamed that after saying to the therapists ‘Never again’, I had done it again. That night I knew things had to change. I have to stop harming. It doesn’t mean I don’t want to do it. But I have to force myself not to. I have to try. Otherwise things will continue to spiral down… and I don’t know where that will lead me.

So I need to take every precaution right now to keep me safe. Through discussion with family I have decided to take a break from work (it’s voluntary anyway).

Some might suggest this is not a wise choice, as work is what keeps people well, with a sense of purpose and achievement, as well as boosting confidence… it’s important to keep on working. But that’s what I forced myself to do, not even a week after my breakdown. I rushed back into normality. Harming myself as I did was my chance to have the break from life that I so desperately needed… and I wasted that chance. Ever since then I’ve felt more pressure.

It has felt like I’m powerless… like my life is out of control… as if I’m on a ride that I can’t get off of. I’ve been living from ‘event’ to ‘event’ – the days I’m working, to the therapy session, to seeing my friend, to appointment, to another work day. And I cannot cope with this way of existing. There is no joy. I’m just trying to ‘get through’ everything, to the next thing. I’m wishing my life away. It doesn’t feel safe, as sometimes I just want it all to stop. But since it can’t I have to just go along with the ride, feeling out of control and resentful of life.

The urge has been to do something so extreme I end up in hospital. I even broke down in tears, admitting to my family this week that I want to put myself into a psych ward, just to have a break from life. That was the deciding factor in taking a break from everything. It’s better to have two or three weeks off work, and focus on recovery and self-care, than to burn out and do myself harm, or worse. So I went in on Friday and told them I won’t be in for a couple of weeks, to look after myself. Getting home that evening felt a relief. Knowing I have some time to reflect and catch up with myself.

It sounds strange, but I have felt like I’m not in sync with myself…. like perhaps my body is going through the motions, but my mind is far behind me. Hopefully this break will allow my mind and emotions to catch up, and I can go forward from there, as a whole person.

Life is going to be hard for me in the next few weeks unfortunately, as my therapy course is coming to an end, but I hope to reach out to the therapists about that next week. Nobody knows how much I’m suffering right now, so I have to protect myself and put myself first. I have to care about my own safety and the value of my life…. which is hard, believe me, when you feel nobody else cares about you, it’s hard to feel you’re worth anything. But when you reach a point… a choice… between life and death… if you don’t really want to die, you have to make yourself respect your own life, and guard it.

So the next couple of weeks, I will attend my therapy. I will see my friend, as it’s important to keep contact with those who are good for your mental health, no matter how much you may want to isolate yourself. Other than that, I will be having a rest and trying to find joy in life again.

I’m creating a ‘crisis box’. This will have things in it like colouring books, photographs of my Godchildren, Disney DVDs, a body cream, chocolate, fluffy socks, nail varnish (purple of course!), cheerleading cards, and I’ve bought the original ‘Spirograph’ that I used to love as a kid…. all things that comfort me, distract me, or bring me the joy I used to know as a child. So whenever I’m in a crisis or on the verge of one, I can open that box and use whatever I like from inside. It will be beautifully decorated, and on the inside it will tell me the reasons to not self-harm.

I am going to take any steps I can to look after myself, communicate my feelings, and stay alive and well. Some may think it’s ‘lazy’. I honestly don’t care about those people. They don’t know what it’s been like to be at war in my head, and to want to end the pain and conflict. Yes some don’t have the luxury of being able to take time off work, they have to just carry on. But my current circumstances allow for this, and it’s right for me at this point. It’s not forever anyway.

I’m proud of the choice I’ve made, to have my break from life in this way, instead of a harmful way. What some would call ‘avoidance’ I call ‘self-preservation’. Survival. I need to want to do ‘life’ again. I need to regain hope and passion. I need to find inner peace. That’s my aim in the coming weeks.


Baby Steps Through Anger.

Baby Steps Through Anger


Nobody knows the truth of the last week for me. So I’m going to write it here, to unburden myself.

I struggled at the CBT group session last week. I was anxious, I’d taken a diazepam, I gave a note to one of the therapists asking for them to help me speak out at the start, and she didn’t. I left with suicidal thoughts. A member of the group appeared to snub me on the way out. I went home and self-harmed, couldn’t sleep, considered phoning the Samaritans, but don’t like using the phone, and couldn’t risk no answer. So the next morning texted the other therapist as I had his number, and it wouldn’t require speaking on a phone. I got no answer. This sparked off reminders of the past for me, and many different emotions. Nobody in my life knows how much I’ve been struggling in the last couple of weeks or why.

In total honesty, I went to my session last night, prepared to harm myself or much worse. I felt really angry at the therapists and group… seethingly so. When we started with a grounding mindfulness, this just pissed me off. I couldn’t take part in it properly, as I was fuming. So in the feedback I told them that. I told them that I went away the last week, in a bad state of mind, and although we were told we could talk to them if we didn’t feel safe, I felt unable to, because of the point they kept making about time restrictions. I told them it made me feel like a burden, therefore unable to open up to them anymore. I also said about the text I sent and not getting a response, and how that triggered the memories of the past. I was so upset and angry as I spoke I had to stop and breathe, so I didn’t burst into tears. My voice shook, but these things needed saying, or else I would’ve walked right out of there and not come back. I told them I had thought of quitting the group.

I was commended for being brave enough to say anything, and for being honest. But not much else came from it at that point. I didn’t receive an apology for being ignored. I didn’t feel a resolution on the other issue, so my anger didn’t subside. It bubbled underneath for almost the whole first half of the session.

One good thing was the member of the group who appeared to snub me the previous week, publicly apologised to me for it… which felt awkward and embarrassing for me, as I’m sure it did for them too, but was nice that they had recognised what they said, and what effect it might have had on me.

But the anger towards the therapists kept simmering underneath. At times I felt I wasn’t listening to other members of the group. I wanted so many times, to excuse myself and go outside for a break, as I couldn’t stand looking at the therapists, particularly the one who ‘ignored’ my text. Their voices were pissing me off, and I wanted to get out of there and harm myself. But I sat with the anger, and eventually it did come down, like a wave. I kept telling myself ‘Just make it to the break’… and I did. But just before the break, my feelings were dredged up again by one of the therapists, and I became desperate to get out of there.

As soon as the break started, I headed for the toilets, and sat in a cubicle, trying to calm down by breathing. It wasn’t working. It didn’t feel enough. So I admit, I harmed myself… not quite as badly as before, but enough to need to treat it again. I kept listening out, hoping nobody was going to come into the toilets. And just as I was finishing up, I heard someone coming in and thought ‘Oh shit, not again’. It was the therapist. I told her I was okay and just needed some time away from everyone. I chatted with her through the cubicle door, not giving away what I’d done, all the while trying to bandage my arm back up as quickly as possible, so that she wouldn’t suspect anything.

By the time I came out of the cubicle, someone else came into the toilets, which likely distracted her, so I quickly washed the blood off my hands. She then said either we could have a quick chat and miss the first five minutes of the second half, or she could phone me today to chat, rather than me feeling rushed at the end. I went for the quick chat, as I thought I wouldn’t be able to carry on otherwise.

When we came out of the toilets, the other therapist was lurking, probably concerned I’d harmed myself again, and he wanted to apologise for not responding to the text. He said he didn’t receive one. However he was aware of a ‘multimedia message’, which he thought might’ve been spam. His work phone is an old sort of phone, so probably didn’t even share my number, I assume, otherwise I’d wonder why he wouldn’t open it. He said he wouldn’t ignore me if I was in distress. It was just because obviously my message was too long, and didn’t come through like it would on a more modern phone. Unfortunate. And going to be hard to get over, as it kicked up a lot of shit for me.

I went for my chat with the female therapist, and told her the week I’d had. She recognised that I had faced three situations, effectively in the space of a day, whereby I felt rejected or abandoned, and how that would’ve felt. She confirmed what I had thought about her lack of support the previous week, in speaking out, and said it was because she knew I could do it myself, and wanted me to push myself to do it. This still pisses me off actually, as that’s not helpful to me right now. I needed the support. And now I don’t know if I can trust their motives. It makes me feel more alone.

I went back in the room and felt less angry, but aware of the pain in my arm. But they’ll never know about that. I’ve become good at hiding my pain and pretending nothing is wrong. I even put on a brave and happy front at home. Nobody will know. I guess in a way this shows I’ve gone backwards even more, as my self-harming always used to be very secretive like that.

But last night I decided enough is enough. I put self-care ahead of anything else. That’s why I didn’t stay up and write this blog last night. I put self-soothing and sleep ahead of it. I’m also going to create a ‘Crisis box’… a nicely decorated box, with things in it that can help me in a crisis – colouring book, chocolate, a favourite film, photographs of my Godchildren, and anything else I can think of – with reminders in it of why I don’t want to cut too. I need to stop self-harming. If for no other reason than I’m running out of space! I realise it’s spiralling out of control, and I don’t want to be that person again. I’m ashamed of who I am at the moment, but I need to be self-compassionate in my approach to stopping.

Obviously I can’t carry the box with me when I’m out, but I’m going to try the rubber band technique when I’m outside the house if I get an urge, and dig into the crisis box when I get home if needs be.

I need to look after myself. Nobody else will. Nobody knows I have self-harmed three times in a week – that’s the worst it’s been in many, many years. It’s my secret… though you now know it too…. so I alone have to face the consequences and pick myself back up. Nobody else can do it for me. They don’t know my suffering. I have to be my own therapist, my own best friend and my own carer. It’s either that or give up entirely and self-destruct. But I’m choosing to TRY and get better.

I hope to start sharing more positive news with you soon. But the positive parts I can take from last night, are that I was brave enough to speak out and tell them what I thought, and how I felt. I got apologies and explanations in the end – unfortunate that it was AFTER I had self-harmed. Things could have played out much worse – they could have discovered my self-harm and kicked me off the course… or I could have done it, run out and killed myself, as it played out in my head. So to just harm myself to the level I did, is a small ‘victory’… I’m still here to tell the tale and learn from the experience. I witnessed that anger can subside on its own, which I’ve not really experienced before – I’ve usually reacted and harmed myself to get rid of it, rather than just feeling it. I have come away more determined to stop harming. And I will never take something to harm myself with again, no matter how awful I might feel, and how big a confrontation I sense coming. I will deal with it in a different way from now on.

I want to make the most of the last sessions I have with the therapists. In four weeks I’ll have said goodbye to them forever. This breaks my heart. I don’t want to spend that time being bitter towards them. I want to try my best and take some steps forward. I have to, else this has all been for nothing.