You can call me Gail, or you can call me WeeGee. To be honest you can call me whatever the hell you feel like calling me so long as it isn’t terribly rude. I’m good like that, y’see – I put up with most things…… unless you’re unkind. I don’t put up with unkindness, not anymore.
I’m 34 years old and I was first diagnosed with a mental health difficulty when I was 15 years old. Since then, I’ve had a number of different diagnosis. There have been times when things have been good and there have been times when they have been very, very bad. Of course, the bad times are the times that stay with me because those are the times that haunt me. Those are the times I’m still running away from. I’ve been places that I never ever want to go back to.
When you have mental health difficulties the headshrinker people want to put you in a box and I’ve been put in lots of different boxes in my time – depressed, eating disordered, self harming, psychotic, personality disordered, alcoholic, suicidal. I guess you could say that I’ve been labeled as all kinds of things but for my part I’ve only ever been one kind of thing: broken.
As far as I’m concerned it doesn’t really matter why I’m broken, or what ‘kind’ of broken I might be at any given time. What really matters is that I’m still here, and that I’m learning to live with myself, and that I’m getting better at it every single day.
Hope is important: it’s what carries your heart when it’s too heavy for you to bear.
Lots of love WeeGee xoxox
My blog: How do you eat an elephant?
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