Louder and louder. Kill Yourself they say. There’s nothing left in this world for you so just die already they scream. Make them cuts deeper, the more pain the better they whisper as they seep into my brain and destroy every thought I ever have.

Recently, there have been voices in my head. I’ve had them for a while, but more recently they have been getting louder and louder. They used to be things that I could deal with, keep on going with my normal daily routine. This past month though, they are loud, and I cant shut them up anymore.

I was sat in a lesson, and out of nowhere I started to feel anxious and that made the voices speak a little louder. I put on my headphones to try and drown them out. I turned them up louder and louder till it as at max volume. Yet the voices overpowered them. KILL YOURSELF YOU PIECE OF SHIT. YOU CANT DO ANYTHING RIGHT. SELF HARM AGAIN, BITCH. It scared me, as I havent expereinced anything like this before, and at that point, I wanted to die right there and then.

From walking out the room and going up one flight of stairs to get to my tutor, I figured out a solid 10 ways I could take my life right there and then. I know they are not real (as many people keep pointing out to me), but it feels real to me. Sitting there, with these voices screaming at me, I don’t know what else I can do! I wake up and there they are, greeting me. Same applies when I go to sleep, they send me off to sleep with messages filled with self-hate.

I just don’t know what to do anymore with myself, as I’m clearly not coping too well. I want help, I really do, but I don’t want people to think I’m crazy by what I’m saying. Yeah, I know what you’re probably thinking Chelsea, your writing this and sharing it with the whole world. I am well aware of this, but somehow thats not as scary. Be that because I’m not facing them, or not speaking it face to face,  but I needed to get this out.

I just want to curl up in a ball right now and cry.


Rock Bottom

That feeling of nothingness. Emptiness. Aloneness. It overwhelms every inch of your body. Silence can be the loudest cry. The voices in your head are getting louder and louder. Cuts on your arms are becoming deeper and deeper. The nights are becoming longer and longer. Before you know it, rock bottom seems like your best friend.

I constantly say that rock bottom is somewhere that I have never experienced. I say this because the day I hit there is the day that I kill myself. That will be the day that rock bottom will become a real thing. Whenever I go to a Mental Health appointment, they always ask me on a scale 1-10 on how close I am to rock bottom. Each session it can vary. Recently though, it’s 9. I get told I’m brave and must be strong because I’ve never hit rock bottom, or want to believe I haven’t. Truth is I’ve probably hit rock bottom that many times now we are best friends.

Why do I say this though? Because its true, the day I commit suicide is the day that I lost, and that day would be a 10 on the scale, as I felt that bad. I’ve been suicidal for years now, and I’ve had a few too many attempts and trying to take my life. The other night, I saw this come up on my Instagram, and it fits the situation perfectly.

I’m not suicidal, but if a car came while I was crossing the street, I don’t think I would move out the way. And if someone held a gun to my head, I wouldn’t exactly beg for my life. In fact, I’d laugh and tell them to go for it. No, I’m not suicidal. But if I had an opportunity to die without having to kill myself, If probably take it.

How wrong is that though? That I live in this permanent mindset that I want to die. Why should I feel like this? I never asked for this life, for Christ sake I never asked to be born. I was brung into this cruel world by two people who cant see that their own little girl is falling to pieces with every step she is taking, and she doesn’t know how long she can carry on for.

Rock bottom, a place that I should make myself a new home. Going to be here for a while.



I’m writing this post, with tears streaming down my face, just purely wondering when all this pain will stop. The feeling of emptiness, the heartache, the misery. All of it. The voices in my head, they won’t calm down, and I don’t know what to do.

This post is going to be very raw, as in writing it as I’m going through it. Its 9th April 2018, it’s just gone 7.00pm. I hear my parents downstairs with my neighbours chatting away, and my brother has just been out for a smoke and is now in his room. Everyone around me is carrying on with life, they don’t know that I’m no more than 20 steps away from them just wanting to relapse. To stop all this pain that is hurting me.

I’ve lost my way again, I can’t find the steady road that I used to be on. A while back I wrote that I had been discharged from my local Mental Health Team. I can honestly say its all gone downhill from there. 20 minutes before I got discharged, I told my Community Pyscatiric Nurse (CPN) that I had been feeling suicidal to then be told that the Psychology team deem me as mentally fit.. what sort of system do I live in? I’ve just declared that I want to die, and yet you tell me that is fine? All because one person made the decision that because I was smiling at her that it means nothing is wrong with me?

I’m the sort of person that takes a few sessions to start building a relationship with you, and even then, we have to maintain some sort of connection for me to be open in honest. How come that in one 40 minute session you expected me to bare all to you? How do I know what you will react to? What if you want to section me? Until we both get to know each other, then I cant open up to someone. I’m sorry for that, but its the way I work, and no one can change that.

I wish they could see me now; fresh cuts on my body, tears pouring out of my bloodshot eyes, a stuffy nose, my heart going ten to the dozen. No one would say I’m mentally fit in this state. I just want something to go right for me now, to let me live my life again. I can’t stand living a life feeling like this. I’m trapped in a mindset that constantly figures out different ways to die. I shouldn’t be living like this. I’m 19 for christ sake, I should be out living a high life, exploring the world, Instead, I’m lying on my bed. Feeling like shit.

I don’t want to die, I just want to disappear until I feel better again.



They say your family should accept you for who you are. That no matter what you go through, they will always be there for you. I wish I could say that my family accepts me for who I am, but I would be lying if I said they were.

You ask my Dad what diagnoses I have, he will say Depression with a little Anxiety. Go to my Mum and ask her what she thinks of me taking tablets, and she will say that I take too many and none of them works. Go to my Brother and ask him what he thinks of Mental Health in general, he will tell you its bullshit and is nothing but a mindset. You goto any other family member and ask them about my Mental Health, and they would have no clue what you are on about, as my parents want to keep it under wraps. Its like they are ashamed to admit that I have ill Mental Health.

They will deny that, everything I just said above they will deny all of it. They will say that they support me through everything, and they are not ashamed of me. Yet, whenever I put anything to do with Mental Health on Facebook, they freak out.I put up once about how an organisation I volunteer for have helped me through dark times, and that is legit all I wrote. They both told me to take it down, as not everyone needs to know my troubles and its a family situation. A family situation my ass.

There is a reason I do this on my own because if I involved them, they would constantly be interfering, telling me to do it one way and not another. They would take over my care, telling me the best way to get better, when in reality I’m the only one who knows whats best for me. We’ve had many arguments over this whole subject, and they think they know everything that’s going on. Mum thinks I’m clean from self-harm, she doesn’t know that a few nights ago I relapsed again. Dad thinks that these new tablets are working miracles on me, the truth is I’ve only got better at hiding it now.

See, I’m not ashamed of who I am. I’m, to put this as politely as I can, a fucked up human with quite a few issues. I’m not scared to say that, as I know its true. I don’t lead a plain sailing life, I struggle big time, yet my family want the world to believe that nothing is wrong with me. My long medical folder and the tablets I take would suggest differently. The thing is as well, this is where the stigma comes from. People tell you all the time to speak out, and god knows I have tried so many times, yet my parents are the prime example of the people in society that create the whole thing.

I asked my Mum once what she though Mental Illness meant. She said Someone who is a psyco killer. Its good to know where my ground lies.



It took all my strength. Blood, sweat and tears went into me doing this. Over 50 panic attacks and many sleepless nights. Self-harming my way through to keep going. Finally, I have won a battle and I could not be happier with myself!

A while ago, I wrote a post about having a bad panic attack just before walking into an exam. If any of you saw the state I was in, you would have thought death had greeted me. Today, I got the results of the exams. I only got a Merit and Pass in them!!! That’s with me having one of the worst experiences in my life, having virtually no one there to support me and comfort me and going into the exams in the worst state imaginable. I’ve not been this happy in years.

We always say we need people to help us through our dark times, but in the end, sometimes we have to be our own hero. We have to save ourselves in our worst times, and not to rely on anyone else. I learnt that the hard way, but it only made me come out stronger. And yes, I know I sound like a cliche but everything I’m saying is true. If any of you read that post, you will remember that I expressed how none of my friends helped me. I relied heavily on them, to begin with, but now I’ve learnt that sometimes the only way you can do something, is doing it yourself.

So to all the people out there who struggle with bad Mental Health and exams, I’m living proof that you can do this on your own. You don’t need anyone to save you, walk in and own it. I had tears streaming down my face, swollen eyes, feeling faint and was sick, and I still made it through. And I still passed the exams. It was hard, but the feeling you get after you’ve done it, it compares to no other.

Be your own superhero, I believe in you x


Black Sheep

I’ve always been a black sheep in the crowd. I have never been able to fit in. I always realised I was different, from day one. I never dreamed of having a boyfriend, being elegant and ladylike, nor fitting into what society says is acceptable. I have always wanted to be unique, that’s till now. I don’t want to be the black sheep anymore, I want to fit in with the rest.

I was never the average girl that everyone always imagines. Yes, I liked dresses but then I loved getting them dirty. I liked playing with dolls, but then I loved going outside and playing games in both sun and rain. Being dressed in princess costumes was something I loved, but then nothing beats a good pair of jeans and a hoodie to me. I prefer boys to girls, as I never wanted to play all posh and dainty, I wanted to play rough like football. Things like that always told me I was never a normal person from the offset.

I don’t want to be unique anymore. I don’t want to be quirky, outgoing, or bold anymore. I just want to fit in with everyone, and not be different to them. Ever since I got diagnosed with my first Mental Health problem, people have always treated me different. They treat me with kid gloves like I’m China and anything they say to me might crack me. I want to be treated like everyone else now, not like in the most fragile thing in the world.

I make jokes about my life, practically insult myself daily, but no one understands them. One day I said I had a headache and needed 20 paracetamols to clear it, and everyone went all suicide watch on me. Silly things to me, and maybe that is just to me. What I find unfair though is; if someone else said that exact same comment, nothing would have happened. Nothing at all. Everyone would have laughed it off and took it as the joke it was intended to be. So how come the minute that someone has mental health, we pander to them?

I’m not saying that what I said is right, and yes they are doing it to protect me, but it just feels so shit when you know you are now being singled out. I’m now being put in the spotlight that I have wanted to be in all my life, and I hate it as it’s for all the wrong reasons. I wanted to be there to show all my greatest achievements, to show me in the best light, not to dangle me in front of a crowd and make, what seems like, a pit of fire.

I just want to fit in now. I don’t want to be the ugly duckling anymore.





A few months ago, I was told something that has played on my mind, more recently than ever. I can’t stop thinking about it, yet what they said was such a simple sentence, and one I have heard many times in my life. This time though, it hit me a little harder than expected. Maybe its because at that time I was more vulnerable, and needed comfort. All they said was Stop running away from things that scare you, fight it.

I was in college, and it was a few days before my exam. My teacher was talking about the exam, and it got me panicked up. I walked out the lesson, I ran away from the thing that I was fearful of. A while later, when I was calming down, she came and found me. She looked at me a way I’ve never seen before. It was not a pitty look, not an angry look, nor a sympathy look… it was more like a Please listen to me look. And in a calm voice, she just said the words. The words I have heard over 100x before had hit me hard.

Today, I had a maths lesson. An average day, one just like any other. These last few weeks though, I have been scared to attend these lessons though and I keep avoiding them. I don’t know why I’m scared though, but everytime someone mentions me attending a lesson on maths, I freak out. I run away, I cant face my fear. Maybe its that I’m scared I’m going to fail again. Or that is too far behind to ever catch up. Or that I’m going to disappoint my family once again. Maybe its all of that.

That quote though, every time I miss a lesson I just think of it. It plays on my mind. I say it to myself again and again. Its kind of like it haunts me. Today though, there was a question that I had with it. How? How do I stop running away from the things that most scare me? And I asked her. I went to her and asked her how do I do this. She said You got to find the courage deep within you. Run with it, not away. If you run with it, it will get shorter away and make it more bearable.

It suddenly all became quite clear, I’ve got to run with my fears. I’ve now got to face them.



I have been dropped from my local Mental Health team as I am no longer deemed as high risk. Normal people would happy over this; I’m shitting myself on how I’m going to live my life and stay alive.

My first thought when I got discharged was What is the easiest way to kill myself? Right there and then, I did not want to live because I was, and still am, so scared of living my life without a safety blanket there. I have nothing to fall back on now, and admittedly I did not use the service all too much. However, I knew they were there if I needed them, I knew I had a CPN to help guide me if I needed it. Now I don’t, and yes I have other support but none of them specialises in Mental Health, and all of them would just section me if I told them my thoughts when being dropped.

I was in a safe place with my team, a place that I was as happy as I was going to be in with them, but I fucked it up. I can say I done this because she turned to me and said Well, psychology deem that you no longer are at immediate risk to yourself as you presented yourself in a calm and well thought out manner. That day, I remember it like it was yesterday. 1 hour before that appointment I relapsed to self-harm and threw up due to the sheer amount of Anxiety I was experiencing. I walked in there, thinking that if I don’t act like an idiot and act in a dignified manner then maybe I will get the help I deserve. Well that backfired didnt?

I have three other people who know most of my life story. 2 are youth workers, and the other is my deputy’s head. 1 of the youth workers is now in America, the other just got a promotion and I don’t want to disturb her. My deputy is great, and she supports me so damn much I could never thank her enough, but I have always been told not to rely on one person. I’ve done that before, and it went terribly wrong.

I’ll be fine, I know I will be. But its hard right now, to find strength from nowhere.



I find this subject very hard to talk about, as its one that is not talked widely about. But here I am, going to bare all. I find it hard to be in a committing relationship with intimacy. I can’t stand the idea of someone seeing me completely naked, and it utterly terrifies me of even the thought of this.

I had to go to the doctors the other day, as I had a suspected UTI (easily treatable), but when she turned to me and asked to see my area, I had to make the excuse I was on my period. Which many people would just say is normal, and I can agree but then it was not because I didn’t want her to see that, I did not want her to see the cuts and scars that surround it.

Going back to when I and my boyfriend were together, I could never let him see me fully naked. I couldn’t stand the thought that my then boyfriend would see these. It was like I thought he would finally see me in the way I see myself. A depressed, emotionally unstable, and ugly person. To always avoid intimate moments, I would just change the subject, to just avoid that whole situation. I distinctly remember when we were in the moment when I went into full blown panic attack style. It hurt me that I couldn’t be intimate with him for ages, as he gave me the world and I could never give him what he wanted.

I’m probably the only one who feels this way, but the scars that fill my body are something that I want to keep close to me, protect them. Its how I protect myself from getting more hurt. If others cant see them, then they won’t ever know the true depth of me. Until someone sees every scar on my body, that’s when they know the whole me. And that’s him. He knows the real me, and I got scared. I pushed him away, as I always thought who could love someone like me?

Intimacy is hard for me but all I want is to be loved.


Bad Friend

I’m not a bad friend. That’s what I keep saying to myself. That I’m a good human, who is only doing things out of love. But now I have come to a new conclusion. I am a bad friend. And not because I want to be, because of the Mental Health that has taken over me.

That’s not an excuse either, I’m being genuine. Before all this happened, I only had good intentions for people and would never want to hurt them. Now though? I still want to do that, but I can’t because I have an overwhelming feeling taking over me. Consuming my body day by day, eating away at me, making me doubt every move I ever make.

It tells me to push people away, to not let anyone in. It tells me to doubt myself in every situation I am ever presented with. It takes over my mind and makes me think things that before I would never believe in. It tells me I’m better off dead, that no one will miss me, that life is just pointless and no one cares about me. It tells me to treat people in a bad way because then they can feel what I feel. So they can walk in my shoes for just a minute. A second.

I used to have a life full of friends, now I’m lucky that I have one. She does everything for me, and even when I push her away she stands her ground and makes it known that she is not leaving. That is the sort of person I need, someone who knows that when shit gets tough, that I will insult her, hurt her, and possibly make her life hell.. but all in the knowledge that she is the last person I would ever want to hurt and without her I would be 6ft under by now.

And people will think this is an excuse. It’s fine if you d. But I do want to tell you; I wish I could blame myself. If I blame myself, I can fix the problem. I cant fix this problem.