Initiating Change….

‘Monsters are real, ghosts are real too.  They live inside us and sometimes, they win.’ – Steven King

28th June was my last post, wow, doesn’t time fly past.  I have thought about writing but things have been so so busy that I guess I found ample reasons to not find the time to sit and think about things.  I would use the word excuses if I am honest, I guess.

So, honest I shall be.  Isn’t this the point of what I am doing here? Being honest with myself?

I relapsed.  Looking back on my last post of 28th June, I was struggling, but after writing it out I ended on a high.  I had told the dark demon which is my mind to ‘go fuck himself’.  But who was I kidding?

That’s right.  I kid myself.  I convince myself that I know what I’m doing, and I’ve got it down.

Have I fuck.

My partner, who is now my ex-partner, has spoken (as always) true words to me – ‘you cannot outrun yourself’.  And he is right.  You can’t.  You can’t out run what’s inside.  But I have run.  But, I think and I am hoping, in a good direction.

I met with an old friend about a month and a bit ago and had a bit of a bender.  The next thing I awoke with searing pain in my stomach, no recollection of the last 24 hours, and a petrified partner.

To cut this story short, I remember thinking to myself, while confiding in my friend that I was not happy, that I wanted to turn everything off and point blankly just not continue, that I would do just that.  Selfishly, I went home (after a full 24 hours of being on this bender) and while my partners back was turned, I overdosed on our recreational drug.  Again.

Since this episode, I visited my mother three hours drive away and came to the conclusion that I needed to be there and away from all the shit from my past and easily accessible narcotics and enablers.  This I have now done, and I do feel much more in control and healthier.

My partner and best friend, who is and continues to be my sanity to this day has chastised me, brought me down numerous pegs, and still continued to be my friend and love me through all of this even though I have neglected him, failed to confide in him and now broken away from him to all but abandon him and our friendship.

I guess what I am trying to do here today is get back in touch with some sort of center.  I often feel numb and sad and guilty, which is to be expected after the last couple of months, but I am learning to sit with these feelings and not bury them and self medicate but to feel.

I mean really feel.

Naturally and not through narcotics and drink.

Real, organic feelings from the heart and from my center.  It’s been a very long time since I have felt emotions naturally and if I am honest, been able to recognise what I am feeling and appreciate and understand them, and therefore, understand and thus know myself.

So I have taken myself and set up home (near my mum and younger sister) to be alone and to set up a life made up of my own choices and decisions, a home paid by my own graft, my own responsibilities, and herein, a maturing, self loving, honest reflection of myself.

Here is hoping that I can walk the walk.




Words From Dark Days…


Dark patches of sticky velvet

Brush yourself off

Thistle burrs catch, slicing delicate hands

Dark gashes lay open

Sticky blood dries in strands.

Strain against pain

Sunlight through fingers

Nerve endings snap

Turn away, turn it off

Safer with shadow and familiar cracks.

Dress in sticky velvet,

Dark plays colours’ shade.

Day After The Night Before…


I slept like a baby last night.  It was a bit of an effort waking up and being coherent but I feel pretty OK, which is a relief.

In the past I was becoming a very light sleeper, I could not settle, I would wake after about 4 hours and I had developed night sweats which were actually quite bad.  This started after I was prescribed very strong antibiotics for PID, and, I have since discovered, because of my self medicating with a certain recreational drug.  But even after the antibiotics finished, the sweats continued.  I was also becoming very detached, my thoughts where spiraling again, and I would question everything.  I have managed to stave off self harming, though.  This is about 5-6 months now, I think.

I guess I had worked myself up a bit about the Mirtazapine (I think I had spelt the name incorrectly in the last post, apologies) antidepressants, which is silly as I have not exactly been on top of late so I should be eager to try something new, however, all of this stuff is pretty scary to be honest.

I remember when I was first on Sertraline 50mg then to 100mg I was full of energy, practically buzzing and hyper.  It wore off after a while and leveled out, as they are meant to, and I started slipping back into the Dark Side.  I still felt like I was on a safer level than before the antidepressants, however, I was self medicating and still breaking down inside, and I had started to self harm.  I upped my own dose from 100mg to 150mg and then again to 200mg.  The doctors did not say much about that, I was moving house during both those times so I guess they couldn’t anyway.


On paper it seems like it could be really helpful for me.  I self medicate too much with alcohol, I use recreational drugs, and at this point, I have not used a certain drug now for two days (another story for another time), although I have been drinking to help with the dependency.  I was a bit concerned that Mirtazapine is a sedative, but I think now that this will probably help with my feelings of restlessness and displacement.  I have also had trouble with concentration and focus, hopefully it will help with this, too.

Which is another reason why I chose to start this blog.  I need to find an outlet and something that will help me channel my energy.  I like to paint and make my own clothes, or little items for people, like electric cigarette cases or purses.  However, I have three or four things that still are not finished and I haven’t picked up a paint brush in months.  Except to paint the house that I have just moved into, which does not quite count.

I believe that everyone needs to have something to work on, to perfect and to look forward to. Something that is just theirs to watch grow beneath their hands.  That something, whatever it may be, breaks the monotony of this everyday life that most of the time is us straining ourselves for some other fracker, and to no real end other than to know that there should, hopefully, be enough at the end of the month to keep the roof over our heads and some tins in the cupboard for our children.

In breaking that monotony, and accomplishing something for ourselves, however slight it may be, keeps that little light inside of us from being fully extinguished.