Life With A Purpose

It all just feels so pointless. I try to look at things the way everyone else does and I just can’t. I look at all these people with their happy lives surrounded by people and things that matter to them and I feel like when I look around my own life I see nothing. It’s just me. And even though deep down I know that there probably are people who care about me, in my head it just feels like no one REALLY does. I’m scared of growing older and hating my life more than I already do, and regretting the years I spent as a teenager in my own little cocoon stuck with my terrible thoughts. But I can’t break out of this cocoon that holds me in. It feels like an impossible task. And every time I have a good day, like I did yesterday, and the day before, it gets countered with another shit storm that just overwhelms me until I forget that I actually felt happy yesterday and that I was having fun.

I suppose you might be wondering what triggered this breakdown I seem to be having at this very moment, and let me tell you, it’s one of the stupidest reasons I’ve ever gotten depressed.

Yesterday I watched Spider-Man Homecoming and I really loved it. And when I really love something I REALLY love it. So I went through the usual routine that I do when I become a little obsessed with something, I watch bloopers from the movie on Youtube and interviews that the actors have done, and usually this makes me happy and fulfills that feeling I have after ending a tv show for more. But this time it just made me long for more. And I started to become a little bit TOO obsessed and I went into this whirlwind of videos and websites about the cast until I looked at the clock and realised it was 2:00 am and I’d been doing this for over 4 hours. So I just decided to go to sleep, feeling fine, until I started to think. And think. And think until I literally couldn’t stop the thoughts that were flooding into my brain. I wanted more, I craved more, but then I started to realise that I wasn’t craving more funny moments from Tom Holland or Zendaya, I was craving the life that they have and that I will never get to live. I watch them dance around their living rooms and laugh at themselves failing a stunt and be witty and confident on a talk show and think ‘I will never be that’. And I want to be so badly. I’m not saying I want to be uber-famous or anything but I just want to live a life where I feel appreciated and like I have a community and amazing friends that I could tell anything to but still laugh with uncontrollably. I want to be able to be truly happy, like how these celebrities look. And I know in my heart that these celebrities have problems too, and some of them have probably suffered with mental health issues just like I do, but I still can’t stop thinking about all the things I won’t ever get to do. And it makes me feel like my life is so pointless and worthless.

I don’t know if I’ve ever shared this, but for a long time now I’ve wanted to work in film as a director or a producer. I day dream about it basically every day, because if that dream became a reality I think I would feel so much more purpose in my life. I want to be able to create things that will make people laugh, cry, smile or just even to let them live in a safe haven of another world for an hour or two until they’re ready to come back out again. Because that’s what tv and movies do for me. They give me an opportunity to stop thinking about all that I hate in life, and just to be in this fantasy world and feel happy and safe. If I could supply that safe haven for even one person, my life would have an amount of purpose that I could never ignore.

I know I probably sound bat shit crazy in this post, but this blog is all I have to vent my thoughts to and even if no one ever reads my posts, it’s not really for you guys anyway, it’s for me because it lifts a little bit of the weight off my chest so that, even for just a few hours, I can feel a little bit lighter, a little bit freer.

 

The Downfall of Me, Myself and I

I’m lying on my bed with the familiar cream coloured sheet pulled over my head, a sheet that has been with me since the beginning, since I first laid my imaginative, functioning eyes on the world.

But instead of cuddling me into a peaceful sleep tonight, they are shielding me – or rather imprisoning me – from the thoughts that bounce around my head and fill the gaps between every bit of bone and muscle in my body.

It’s 12:38 a.m.

Mum came in a few hours ago telling me to go to sleep. But she doesn’t get it. I can’t.

I’ve turned the torch light on my phone on now. I feel like I’m in my own little cocoon, lit up with a beam of bright white light casting shadows of my hands onto the cocoon walls.

I had a little moment earlier today. I went into a stage where I felt…nothing? But it wasn’t nothing.

The best way I can describe it is that I felt nothing and everything at the same time.

It was like my mind had gone into overdrive and every emotion that you could possibly feel was spilling into my brain but at the same time I felt a numbness that surrounded me in a storm of nothing.

So I decided to go for a walk. It was raining but I did it anyway. I went into a field where I tried to climb into a little ravine but fell and hit my head hard on the damp ground. I sat there in the dirt for a while, holding my head in my hands and wanting to cry but not being able to get anything out. Eventually I got up and sat on a little hill for a while, watching as little birds tweeted as they jumped from branch to branch in the tree above me.

Knowing I would have to go back to the condiments of my house and my room and the questioning tones and looks of my family made me want to jump into the ravine headfirst – which I did consider doing for a while as I stood at the very edge of it and stared down at the muddy bottom.

But I walked home. I did it because I knew I had to. For me, there was no other option.

But I just felt – NO, I feel – helpless. Like I will always be like this. Like there’s no end from it. Like I’ll never be normal like everyone else and I’ll never be able to experience things like everyone else.

People always tell you that you’ll be okay and you’ll get through and it gets better. But does it really? Maybe it does from some people. But some people aren’t everyone. Maybe I’ll be that one person who forever lives under a brooding black cloud filled with thoughts of blood and death and fear. Because that’s what this all is.

Fear.

I’m afraid of people.

I’m afraid of embarrassment.

I’m afraid to be alone.

I’m afraid to just be myself.

And because of these fears that I hold, unwillingly, so tightly in my grip, I will never be able to experience the things that normal people do.

I’ll never be able to have a boyfriend for fear of them leaving me, for fear of them hating me, for fear of them ignoring me and disregarding me.

I’ll never be able to truly expose myself to someone like I do on this blog. To openly talk about my feelings and how lost and empty I feel while at the same time having emotions and thoughts overflowing from my brain.

I’ll never be able to be alone and allow myself to be independent and confident.

I might not even be able to have a job as I fear the inevitable embarrassment and awkwardness that I will bring upon myself.

I still crave the blood and the cuts in my skin that I used to have but I try every minute of the day to hold myself back and not let myself be a victim of my own mind.

I should probably go to sleep now. It’s 1:00 a.m. But I probably won’t. I’ll probably sit here for a while longer, disgusted at my own mind and body and the hideousness of it all.

Wish me luck.

Facing My Anxiety

Recently I’ve been trying to get a hold on my anxiety. One of the many things that anxiety causes me to do is to bail on social interactions. For example, if someone I’m not entirely comfortable with invites me to the movies or to go to their house or something, initially I agree and think it will be fun, but as it gets closer to the date I usually make up some excuse about why I can’t go. This basically always happens. I don’t even know why, even if I really like the person, my brain suddenly goes into panic mode and I start telling myself that it will be awkward, they’ll think I’m weird, I’m going to be left out of conversations, and so instead of facing my fears I just run away from them.

But this time was different. I’ve made quite a few new friends this year and we kept saying that we wanted to do something together for ages, and so finally we made plans to go to one of our friends houses and hang out. At first I was really excited to, as always, but then Ash and P, my two really good friends that I’m super comfortable with, said that they couldn’t go and I started to panic. I’m good friends with the other girls that are going but because they’re not my really close friends I started to panic. So I messaged them and said I might not be able to go. But then after a few days I started thinking about it and I thought to myself, I always do this. I always bail on plans I make. But I’m never going to get better and beat my anxiety if I continue to do it. I have to actually try and face my fears. So I messaged them again and said never mind, I can go now. And I feel really good about myself. I’m still a little bit nervous and the odd thought about how they don’t like me and they’re going to ignore me pops up, but I just keep pushing it down and telling myself that it will be okay and it will be fun.

So yeah. I’m pretty happy with myself at the moment. I’ve been planning on doing a post talking about all the affects that anxiety has on me and my life but I’m kind of struggling to write it because it feels very personal and it really dives head first into my psychological wellbeing. To be honest it’s kind of scary. But I really want to just get it done and post it because I do really think it could help some people who suffer from anxiety to understand their brains better and identify all the things that trigger anxiety. So that post should be up soon.

Lastly, I just want to say that I want all of you to do something like I did. Face your fears, even if it’s only something small like doing something independently or resisting urges that you get to do something. It makes you feel really good about yourself to take a stand against a mental illness or an addiction or whatever problems you have in your life, and that’s all some people need to lift them up. Just one moment where they do something good for themselves and get to feel in control again.

Take a step forward, be brave, and don’t look back.

My Country, My Home

Recently I’ve gotten back into running, which I used to do everyday after school, and I only realised how much I missed it once I started up again. I’ve been out running only twice this week because of the unpredictable weather and my volleyball game/netball training during the week, but those two times that I’ve been out have been the best moments in my day each time.

I literally got back from a run about 5 minutes ago and the reason I decided to so hastily write this is because today, as I stopped to catch my breath, I lent on the gate to a paddock and looked out across the rolling hills and trees dotted among flocks of sheep and shimmering dams. There is absolutely no place in the world that I feel safer and at home than out in the middle of nowhere with only my neighbors and I’s houses and the cows and sheep mooing and baaing from dawn till dusk. There is no where I feel happier than strolling across wide open paddocks and leaning against a towering tree to stare out into the muddy dams and endless hills on the horizon. I love the place I live more than anything, and recently I’ve been taking that for granted, so as I walked away from the paddock and continued on my run, I made a vow to myself that I would spend every minute I could out in those paddocks and under those trees. Because who knows when that could all be taken away from me.

I know this was a super random post, cause I’ve been away for ages (even though I said I would try to get back into blogging) but I just felt really inspired to start blogging again today. Who knows if it will stick, but I’ll try to stick to my usual Sunday posting schedule. So we’ll see if I remember to post next week. Fingers crossed!

 

My Weight Gain and Being Sick

Today I wanted to give you a bit of an update about how my life is going right now.

So I know that I’ve talked to you guys about weight loss and eating disorders before, and I haven’t been bad with eating disorders lately, but I have gained a butt load of weight.

I used to weigh 55 kilos (around 120 pounds? I don’t know, I’m trusting Google on this) which is a good weight for a girl who’s 5’4. This was around maybe April to September 2016. Then it got to the summer and I began slacking off with my exercise cause it was super hot and I gained 5 kilos so I was 60 kilos (132 pounds). That’s still an average weight for a girl my height. But then it reached Christmas…and holy shit I went fucking mental. I think I must’ve eaten a bit of chocolate everyday because I started gaining weight so fast. And I didn’t do any exercise because I was on holidays and I was being lazy. So…I gained another 5 kilos. So now I’m 65 kilos (143 pounds) which, according to this chart, is only JUST average weight for my height.

So I went from being almost underweight to almost overweight. Jesus fucking Christ.

I’m still 65 kilos now and I haven’t really done much exercise or eaten particularly healthy recently (lol my “dieting” plan worked really well, I’ll give you an update on that soon) and I think that unless I eat Maccas every single day for a few weeks (which I highly doubt would happen cause tbh Maccas is rank), I’ll probably stay this weight until I can be fucked to lose it all again.

I’ve been quite motivated to exercise this week but unfortunately I haven’t been able to exercise because I’m sick. WHY DID THIS HAVE TO HAPPEN IN THE ONE WEEK THAT I’VE WANTED TO EXERCISE AHHHHHHH.

So a few months ago I kept getting these random moments during the day where I would feel really lightheaded and it was there for quite a while but then it went away for a bit. And then last week I kept getting this really sharp pains in my stomach and I felt super sick so I had to stay home for half the week.

And then I was having some really bad acne problems so we went to a GP to talk to them about that and then my mum told her about my stomach pains and dizziness and the doctor told us to get some blood tests. And I thought I had gotten better and we were just gonna get the blood tests for precaution, but then yesterday I started getting really dizzy. At one point we were in science, and the science labs have these higher chairs so you can sit at the big tables and when I was sitting there, I got this big wave of dizziness and I thought I was falling off my chair cause that’s what it felt like so I grabbed the table and the whole room was spinning and Ash was like um what the hell are you okay mate? And so after that my mum came to pick me up from school and we went to get the blood tests done. So now I’m staying home again until I feel better. Ugh.

Yeah the past few weeks haven’t been all that fun.

All I’ve been able to do is just sit on the couch and watch TV and I’m honestly sick of it ugh I want to go outside and run and be normal again. I’m really hoping that the blood tests don’t say that I’ve got some sort of disease cause I hate having to sit at home all the time.

Anyway yep life’s super fun right now. I’m planning on writing some of a story to show you guys today, but I still need to figure all the details out so watch out for that. Oh my god I have so many posts that I’m late on showing you guys like the reading list, the weight loss update, ahhhhh I’m sorryyyyyyyy.

Okay I’ll stop apoligising now and actually go write them.

Bye my loves.

Reading: One Plus One

Page: 38

Thoughts: Family drama ahhh fun

A Message To You, Me And Everyone Else

You know what I realised today? I realised that I don’t have to hide scars, inside and out, just because I’m afraid of what people will think. 

I was looking at the scars (and yes, don’t worry they ARE scars) on my wrist today and thinking about how everyday I’m in fear of people looking at them, people asking about them, people knowing that I’ve got shit going on. And then I realised that I shouldn’t have to be scared about this. Because the scars on my wrists are not scars that I should be embarrassed about. They’re scars I should be proud of. Because they show that I got through something and I survived something, because I haven’t self harmed in months. I can’t even remember the last time I properly self harmed. And I’m proud of that. So why should I have to hide my achievements just because I’m afraid someone’s going to think I’m fucked up and just another one of ‘those girls’. 

So from now on, fuck that. I’m not going to hide my scars anymore. And if people stare and ask questions, I’ll tell them. These are my scars. These are my memories. These are marks that I can never get rid of but also marks I never want to forget. Because these marks remind me that I’ve survived and that I’m still here, walking on this earth. And to me, that seems like a pretty big achievement. So fuck anyone who thinks that I should hide them with makeup and bracelets and jumpers. It’s my body, and if you’ve got a problem with it, keep it to yourself. 

And there are scars all over me that people can’t see. Scars on my legs, in my heart, on my brain. More scars that are permanent. And even though you can’t see those scars, I don’t want to have to hide them either. Because not all of them are scars. They’re fresh wounds. They’re sliced into my mind and my soul that I’m trying to desperately heal and I don’t need other people trying to bring me down for the small list of things that I’ve achieved. 

1. Staying alive

2. Not harming myself

And that goes out to anyone else out there embarrassed about scars, whether they be inside or outside. Because you don’t deserve to live in fear for something good that you’ve done. So embrace yourself, love yourself, and fuck anyone who says otherwise. 

I’m Going Crazy

I don’t want to go to school tomorrow. I just feel so unmotivated right now and life just feels so fucking pointless. I honestly just want to stay in bed and do nothing for as long as possible. I don’t want to interact with anyone. I don’t want to be around people who make me nervous and who I’m unsure about. I’m scared of their judgement and their thoughts and it drives me insane. Every second of school is spent with me thinking ‘what if they think my Pe shorts are too short and my thighs are too big. What if they think I’m annoying. What if they think I have no friends.’ And I try to convince myself that I doesn’t matter but I can’t get it out of my head. I’m just so angry. I want to punch something right now and I want to cry and scream and never have to get up again. 

Recently I’ve just been feeling so hopeless and I don’t know what to do with myself. School seems so pointless, life seems so pointless, everything just seems pointless. I feel like I’m stuck in a busy street with everyone moving around me as they go about their lives while I’m standing there alone and screaming and nobody even bats an eye. 

Sorry for being so morbid but I just can’t hold it in cause if I do I might go over the edge. I can feel it happening and when it does I don’t know what’s going to happen. I’m going insane inside my own head and it’s making me fucking crazy. And when I do go over the edge I don’t know if I’ll be able to get back up again. 

I feel at any moment I might just burst out in tears and off myself. I feel like nobody really cares. I feel like I need to get out here. 

Reading: Ten Thousand Skies Above You

Page: 296

Thoughts: Damn this got real dramatic 

One Of The Worst Days Of My Life

WARNING: I use a lot of swear words in the post and if you get triggered by reading stuff about suicide, self harm and eating disorders then stop reading this now. This past week was good. It was so fun and I actually enjoyed school and I felt happy. But at the same time it was the worst week I’ve had in a long time. 

So all week I’ve been feeling so self conscious about my body. All I can think about myself is fat, ugly, stupid and today I was just done with it. 

So I starved myself. I haven’t eaten a thing all day. Well, I have but as soon as I ate it, I went and vomited it straight back up. 

I’m just sick of feeling fat and I feel like the only way out that is quick enough for me is starving myself. I just don’t want to have to deal with food and my body anymore. 

And to be honest, not eating makes me feel good. It makes me feel skinny and happy and healthy, even though I’m aware it’s not. 

Just to add the cherry on top, I also went and fucked myself up by cutting myself. 

Fucking hell i’m so messed and i’m just done with it honestly. There’s so many kids out there who cut and are depressed and I’m sick of being another one of ‘those’ people as its described at school. 

I see those people looking at my wrist and turning to their friends to talk about me. I can tell that you’re watching me and everything I do. 

But for me, cutting isn’t for fucking attention. It’s because I’m depressed and I want to die and it’s a stress reliever so don’t fucking go off at me and other people for cutting themselves and seeking ‘attention’ because for a lot of people it’s actually because they don’t want to live anymore and they hate themselves. 

I’m about to go eat fucking dinner and I’m so scared because I know as soon as I eat one mouthful I’m going to feel fat and ugly again and I’m just going to want to go and throw up for the second time today. I can’t eat dinner no I seriously can’t. If I eat I’ll get fat again. And I can’t get fat. I can’t eat. Fuck fuck fuck fuck if I eat I’m actually going to fucking kill myself. I’m going to get so fat and people will talk about me and I just don’t want to eat. I can’t fucking eat!!!!

Nobody should care about me I’m such a burden and a fucktard and ughhhhh why do people have to care. It would be so much easier if no one cared about me and no would ask questions about my cuts and why I’m not eating. I just want to be alone and skinny and dead. I just want to fucking die. Someone kill me before this gets any worse. 

Edit: just read this over and I’m sorry guys. I’m so sorry for swearing so much and being such a bitch. Today was one of the worst days I’ve had. And right now all I want to do is cry but I don’t even have the emotion to do that. 

My brain is telling me not to put this up on my blog because it’s too rude and it’s angry and not the impression that I usually give on my blog. 

But I want people to know that this is the bad version of me. This is the version that hates the world and wants to kill herself. And as I always promised to be honest and true to you guys, I’m going to show that side of me in this post. 

I’m sorry if you took offence to this. I’m sorry if you were triggered. But this is the way I am inside my brain and this is what I listen to all day long. 

Thank you for being there for me, even though I don’t deserve it. 

Let’s hope tomorrow is a better day. Because I guess all I can do is keep up moving forward. There’s no point in loitering in the past. Because the past is the past and there’s no going back there. So I might as well forget about it and focus on the future. 

Even though the past isn’t something you can control, the future is. So make it worthwhile. 

Jags xxx

My (New) Religion And Beliefs

Religion is something that I change my mind about a lot. I wrote a post a while ago about how I believed in God but my own version of God. Now, I don’t really believe in god anymore. I’ve never really believed in Jesus. I mean, I think he was a real person but I highly doubt he did half the stuff it says he did in the bible. In my opinion, a lot of the bible is just fiction. They’re stories made to teach a lesson and a moral, not to recount real events that happened. 

Jonah didn’t get swallowed by a whale, Daniel didn’t survive the lions den, and Jesus didn’t come back from the dead. Of course this is just in my opinion, and if you feel differently that’s totally fine, but this is what I believe. 

I think I believe more in the historical aspects of Christianity. Things that seem realistic and could actually happen. I find that stuff really interesting.

Even though I do believe in the more historical stuff, I do kind of believe in angels and demons and god. It may not be the stereotypical kind of angel and demon but I think it is a real thing. 

I think demons aren’t really big black clouds of smoke going round and possessing people and creating trauma, I think that demons are more a kind of temptation. You may have heard that phrase used, facing your demons, and I guess that’s kind of what I’m talking about. It’s like an evil being that tempts you or lures you into doing something you probably shouldn’t do. For example, when someone shoplifts, it could be like a demon luring you into doing that. 

And angels I think are much the same. Angels would be like an invisible being that guide you and help you towards good. I think perhaps that they can kind of save you as well. Like if you’re in a situation of suicide and you overdose, the angel could help you to stay alive and recover. 

Religion is something I’ve always found confusing and a bit debatable and I will probably change my views on religion for as long as I’m alive. 

I used to think religion was stupid. That it was all fake and I could never believe in any of it because it was so debatable and nothing was really for sure. Then at another point I thought that I believed in absolutely everything and it was all real. Then I kind of believed in my own version of religion, which some of I still agree with, but a lot of I don’t. 

Like I said in my last post about religion, god is not there to save you when you get into shit. God is there to guide you and give you a kind of advice when you’re in desperate times. Gods there to love and appreciate everyone, not discriminate. And for sure, God is not there to fix up the stupid decisions that us bloody humans make. God isn’t obliged to clean up the oceans or stop wars. Even though god is supposedly (I don’t believe in this aspect of Christianity) the creator of the world, that doesn’t mean god has to clean up our mistakes. 

So yeah, that’s some of my opinions on religion and what I believe in. 

I understand not everyone will believe in this and that’s fine. Some people are Buddhist, some are hindu, some are Jewish, some are atheist, some are full blown Christian and it doesn’t matter what or who you are, everything you stand for and believe in is right. Unless you’re some crazy satanic terrorist religion, and in that case no I don’t think you’re right and please stop summoning demons to the world. Sam and Dean Winchester do enough of that already. 

Jags xx

4 Things That Happened in 15 Days

Let me recap a few things that have happened in the first two weeks of 2017.

1. My beauty battle scar 

This morning as I was curling my hair with a curling wand, I placed the wand down on the floor, where I was sat cross legged, to take out a hair tie. Without considering the burning hot beauty tool right at my leg, I shifted around a bit and placed my calf right on top of the curling wand. OUCH. Burn, sizzle, screech, there goes my beautiful soft skin. I now have a curling wand shaped burn going up my calf which is lovely. If anyone asks I’ll just tell them I was captured by pirates and they branded me. Believable, I know.

2. The wax incident

I can’t remember if I recounted this story to you guys, but last week I had a candle burning on a shelf that’s built into my desk. I was sitting at my desk on my laptop, about to go to bed. I brought the candle down off the shelf and blew it out but then as I was returning it to the shelf, it somehow slipped out of my hand and fell straight onto my laptop. It was a disaster. There was, and still is, candle wax all over my desk, some papers, the floor, a pencil case, and most importantly, my laptop. I spent the next week using toothpicks and wet wipes to dig out the endless batch of wax shoved into the keys of my laptop. The stiff ‘P’ and the stubborn ‘-‘ still haunt me to this day.

3. The not-so giant spider

A few nights ago as I was happily sitting in bed watching Gilmore Girls, a movement behind my bookshelf caught my eye. As I watched an odd shaped brown stick that was poking out from behind the bookshelf, suddenly a colossal monster of an arachnid came popping out after it. I actually screamed a blood curdling scream like they do in horror movies. This thing was HUGE. Like, the size of a grown man’s hand. I was having an actual panic attack while I stood on my bed in fear, trying to merge myself into the wall, as I waited for someone to come investigate my urgent cries of fear. Of course, my inconsiderate family ignored my screams and so I had to mentally prepare myself to sprint past the bookshelf and lunge myself out of the door and into the lounge room. Thankfully, I was successful and the spider did not jump out and eat my face. I ran up to my dad who was casually watching TV and told him of the monster in my room. He went up there and banged around for awhile, whilst I sat on the couch, trembling with tears in my eyes. Finally he came out with his tissue scrunched up in his fist and told me he’d got it. But when he put the tissue in the bin, I caught a glimpse of the slightly mangled spider inside. This was not the spider I had seen. This one was the size of my eye. I sent my dad back to my room to check again but he said there was nothing there. Perhaps it had been a trick of my imagination? But I was convinced he’d caught the wrong spider. I was forced to go back to bed and I spent the rest of the night in fear, awaiting a big hairy leg that would stroke my forehead, followed by a 20 kilo spider that would devour me in one swallow. That didn’t happen but I’m still slightly on edge as I sit at my desk, peering under my bed and in my bookshelf to make sure it hasn’t hidden somewhere. If I never post on here again, tell my parents it was the spider and it’s my dad’s fault.

4. Restaurant panic

This one’s a bit more serious. So I was down at my nans for a part of my holidays and on the last night of our stay, our whole family (all 20 of us) went out to dinner. We just went to a pub but bloody hell, it was crowded. We were cramped in at two tables in the corner where we had to sit on table corners and eat at the window sill. So yeah that was lovely. But to make matters worse, I’d been having horrible anxiety that whole day and wasn’t looking forward to that dinner. I also had a stomach bug and was feeling incredibly sick, but no matter how much I complained, I still had to go to this dinner. So we sat down and had drinks and I talked to my cousin and that was fine. And the food came out (I got fish and chips. Adventurous, I know) and everyone ate and it was actually pretty good. But then my stomach bug kicked in and I began feeling sick. I asked my mum if we could go soon and she was all like no no I have to finish my drink (which was a full glass of wine, I might add, which takes her about an hour to drink) so I sat there in misery on the verge of vomiting all over the table. I asked again if we could go but I was let down and pushed away again. This was when the anxiety came in. I began panicking and felt like I was going to have a panic attack. I was on the verge of tears and I could feel my chest feeling really compressed. So I got up and went to the bathroom. It was completely empty and so my mind took that as the opportunity to break down. I went into a stall and leaned against the door and had a bit of a panic attack. I cried and breathed like I had one lung until someone came in and I mustered up the strength to go back out, wipe the tears from my face and go back to staring out the window until my mother finished her drink. Eventually we left and I went into my bedroom to cry again but at least I got ice cream after the dinner. Alls well that ends well!

Look like 2017 is going to be the year for me! #prayforjags (I’m definitely going to get murdered)

Jags xx