Monday, April 27, 2009


I did it.

I got accepted to do my DipHE/BSc Mental Health Nursing, back home in Guernsey. The course starts on the 7th September.

It's tough... I'm telling you! It's not often I can call myself successful, in fact I've been on a downer ever since my GCSE's. So getting this is sort of a kick up the arse... a bit of a reality check.

I'm not a complete fuck-up.

Don't tell anyone though.

Thursday, April 23, 2009


It just dawned on me watching Hollyoaks.

Maybe when I got out of hospital and Mum learnt of my struggles and self harm, maybe she was scared. Maybe she couldn't understand how I could do it to myself.

I don't really know of course.... but lately I am learning that things aren't always what they seem. I have no idea what my Mum thought/thinks but perhaps it wasn't how I envisaged.

I think that's what 'mental illness' is... pain. We dress it up and tone it down. But at the end of the day, it's painful and it causes pain.

Everyday pain surfaces... maybe that's not mental illness, just life.

Monday, April 20, 2009


If you follow me on Facebook or Twitter, you will have noticed my latest complaint.

I am stuck in limbo. I don't mean purgatory, but it sure as hell feels like it. I know that I want to move back to Guernsey into nurses training... but right now all I can do, is nothing. I have to stay here in this place, waiting to hear whether I am accepted or whether my fate involves the all together hotter option of another failed opportunity.

Today is a gorgeous day, but like yesterday it lacks a purpose. Everything that we do feels like nothing has been done. It is silent and still, the way it gets when a city warms up. And like the cat lazing on the wall I feel that all I can do, is sit and read.

On the bipolar side, things are much better. I still am avoiding the CMHT because I don't need them right now, they are stretched as it is and I'd much rather they helped some poor soul who is stuck in that aching void. You know the one. When you are crying so hard that everything stops again, the pain and the darkness just crushes down on your chest so that.... you just can't explain why your eyes are red, the bags underneath them weigh heavy like suitcases and your answers read like questions in a philosophy book.

Thursday, April 16, 2009

Guernsey, CI

Hello there. What a mindless way to start a post, sorry! Oh gosh now I've apologised again.

Well. I've just got back from Guernsey after going over for my interview in mental health nursing. I think it went well. I came away not thinking I could do anything more - so that has to be good, I hope!

That's not what I want to talk about though, I want to talk about the strange feeling I had in my stomach throughout the whole trip. The feeling I couldn't explain. The feeling that nearly made me cry on the Aurigny flight home. THAT feeling.

Two years ago I was in a bad place, my head was in a terrible state and so were my arms. I met Will and fell in love, in my head it seemed the time to run. So I did. No explanations to my family, no goodbyes... just a little black Fiesta filled with as much of my life as I could manage to get a hold on. For as many years as I could remember I had wanted to get away... to get started with 'life'.

Things were not meant to be that easy though, and as usually happens when one runs away - everything catches up with you. I dropped out of Uni without even noticing I'd been there, to be honest I went off the rails - big time. It's only now I have the joy of hindsight that I can see this.

Eventually though, good old life sent me back to Guernsey... back in search of something, some kind of salvation which I believe I can get in mental health care. I've been there... and perhaps I don't have job experience but I definitely know how I don't like to be treated. I know what needs to be done in mental health care.

So as we drove to my Mother's house I thought about this feeling. I looked out at that gorgeous ocean this afternoon and I saw it. I felt it. I can't understand or explain it, but I know what I was thinking.

'I'm home'.

Sunday, April 05, 2009


I once heard it said... "Show me a woman who has a healthy attitude to food, and I'll show you a man."

Now, aside from this being entirely sexist (I know both the male and female population struggle with eating and disorders), it did make me think and take a step back for a moment.

I have never had a healthy food attitutde. I have always been a little bit overweight - and have always been painfully aware of this.

When I was young I ate too much, because it was how my mother nurtured me - and when I was full I still never said no. Which meant that as I got older I lost control of being able to tell when I was full and didn't need anymore food. My days began to revolve around food and what meal I might have or snack I might sneak when away from prying eyes. Getting my driving licence meant I had unlimited access to whatever food I liked, or was permitted by my receptionists wages.

Despite this, in my teens I did even out a bit and when I look back now - I realise that I was a perfectly healthy size. If only I listened to my friends back then, and took the time to actually look at the photos!

My mother never told me anything other than I was overweight, and needed to lose. Hence at home I was always on some diet or another. It's not until recently that she told me she thinks I am really beautiful and thought I looked perfectly proportioned when I was in 6th form.

I wish I'd known that then!

Now, of course, I am overweight - and I know that. I am trying to diet but when I diet I have a tendency to not eat altogether, or purge when I feel I've eaten too much. My attitude to food is skewed and I don't know how to get it back.

It sounds like I'm blaming my Mum/upbringing... but I'm not. I'm just interested in childhood eating habits and how they shape the people we become. I know that the medication I am on will affect me too... and so I ask, what is the right attitutde to food? And how do we get it?!