To See A Light That Shines

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This little light of mine,
I’m gonna let it shine
This little light of mine,
I’m gonna let it shine
This little light of mine,
I’m gonna let it shine
Let it shine,
Let it shine,
Let it shine.

Did you sing this song as a child? I did.

Stigma Via Health Professionals

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I wasn’t expecting it from this source.  Actually I had seen this particular health professional about five times and had decided that she knew her stuff.  What’s more, I had decided that she was responding to what I was saying to the extent that I felt comfortable with her.  A big thing.

But I admit I had forgotten a brief moment in my first appointment with her when she responded to something I said with “you haven’t got a mental illness“.

Gathering up the ocean in my arms

When Ruby asked me if I’d like to contribute to Canvas I was excited. As in really excited. As in ‘I’m a bit bouncy and excited’ excited. I bounced around for a bit, being all excited and then it started to dawn on me that if I wanted to write something for Canvas I’d actually have to sit down and write something. If I’m honest I sat down to try and write something quite a few times. I’ve always been a perfectionist. And I’ve always been struck by the irony that when you’re a perfectionist there is no such thing as perfection.

If I Never Had To Eat Again

TRIGGER WARNING: Eating Disorders

If I never had to eat again, I’m sure that my life would be simpler and without quite so many struggles for my mental health.  Take an addiction of another kind.  I was addicted to alcohol and have the choice of whether or not I will drink now that I am in recovery.  For a drug addict they can (and hopefully will) choose to not touch drugs again.  But when you’re addicted to issues of food and weight, regardless of your means of recovery you have to keep pumping 2,000 odd calories into your body each day.

The Not So Great Pretender

I had ideas for my first Canvas post. I wanted to tell you something good and inspiring. A grand entrance of sorts into this forum. But … I don’t have anything like that to give at the moment.

I could pretend and write here as though I am someone brave. I could write like I am a great conqueror of my own mind and offer you all of my solutions.

But right now … right here … why should I pretend? Lately, if I am tired of anything, I am tired of pretending!

Seeking Professional Help: A Personal Journey

At what point do you say to yourself, “I need help”? And how many times do you say it before you actually reach out? Do you wait to hang by a single thread? Or do you wait for that last thread to start tearing before someone else tells you to grab on for dear life because you’ll end up at the bottom, dead?

Well, we’ll all end up as putrid corpses. One day the braided threads of our lives, as we know them now, will unravel. But you get my drift.

When I Realised What I Do is Good

There are some things you may already vaguely know about me.  My real name is Carrie and I have an alternate personality whom I call Charlotte (not to mention the poor guy, Jack, in the back ground who hardly gets a say in anything).  I live in the UK near London, by the sea.  I am almost 30 years old.  I suffer from depression, I have recently been diagnosed with Emotional Dysregulation Disorder (the new name for BPD) and have lived with a host of psychiatric conditions since I was a child. 

I am also a Veterinary Nurse.

I Am Not OK, But That Is OK

I’ve been wondering recently (as always) why I am the way I am.

I’ve been trying to come up with an explanation.

It feels like I can’t help these ways.  I think the way I think because of all that I am, and all that has happened.  I feel like I use it as an excuse, but am I allowed to feel that way?