Unexpected Ideation

Some days I want to live. Some days I want to die. I’m not suicidal – not any more. Or not at the moment at any rate. If I’m careful with self care, and practice what has been preached the past 12 months, I can expect to die from natural causes in the distant future, and…

How can I tell if I’m well?

When I have a cold, it’s obvious I’m sick. And when it goes away, it’s obvious it’s gone. When I have depression, it’s not obvious to anyone – even me. And when it goes away, how am I going to know? It was clear as a summer’s day when my depression hit rock bottom. I…

Shedding the Burden of Shame

A year ago I was a mess. A great big psychological mess. I was heading towards a breakdown and a stay in the mental health unit. I was so ashamed. Ashamed of falling apart. Ashamed of not appreciating the good things in my life. Ashamed of my weight, my eating disorder, my self-harm, panic attacks, depression,…

Strategies

Despondency.
It’s an unpleasant feeling.
I’m currently wallowing around in misery, feeling sorry for myself but struggling to find the willingness to be willing to make the required changes to my behaviours. I’ve acquired all the necessary knowledge, tools and support networks. Still I wallow. Still I perpetuate the lifetime habits that I both loathe and cling to like a drowning woman.

Silence

Suicide: It’s a dirty word… People are afraid of it. They don’t want to hear it. Or talk about it. We judge it – we judge ourselves for contemplating it, we judge others for talking about it. And those that go through with it? They receive the most judgement of all. Those most in need of our love and compassion, kindness and understanding – are the ones most likely to be criticised, judged and condemned.

Not Your Average Patient

It is not every day you meet a woman with no ears and half a nose. Lucy Henry is not an average patient in the Emergency Department [ED], with her prominent scars from self-inflicted burns. She is one of the forty thousand patients that present at the Royal Hobart Hospital emergency department each year. This 35-year-old blonde is confident and comfortable in herself, despite the life-altering events of the past 13 years. As she relaxes on her sofa, with devoted dalmatian Lottie nearby, she speaks frankly about her experiences as a self-confessed “frequent flyer” in the emergency department.

Cheer Up, Buttercup

Are you sick to death of hearing about depression? How sad we all are now? It’s an epidemic apparently… I know I’m sick to death of hearing about it – not because I lack compassion for those with depression, but because I AM one of those people with depression. Apparently. And how depressing is that?!…