i'll be okay...just not today.

i have a bad habit of abandoning this blog when i feel like i'm doing 'okay' in life and i feel terribly guilty for this. blogging combined with the unwavering support of my followers has always given me the strength to see through another day/ week/month when i've been on the verge of admitting defeat, therefore i feel disappointed in myself for not continuing to write even when my health has somewhat improved.

i suppose the truth is i've been feeling relatively well over the last few months...as well as can be having my brain chemistry anyway, and instead of spending days on end wallowing in depression/ writing about how shitty i feel i've actually been out in the world living (a major accomplishment for anyone who has been following my journey over the past 18 months). 

'living' or 're-building' myself has consisted of the following: 

enrolling in uni again part-time to continue my masters in counselling and psychotherapy that i had to defer last year.

starting a little 'business' selling my dream catchers. 

socialising with old friends and attending birthdays/ other events instead of declining every invitation that comes my way. 

living in my own place again/ trying to be independent. 

applying for jobs. 

the last week though i've crashed, and quite unexpectedly at that. i knew it would be difficult trying to reclaim my old life after being in a warped reality for such a long period of time, however i thought i had adequately prepared myself for the hurdles i'd have to overcome. as i mentioned, i've been applying for jobs recently as i finally feel stable enough to return to employment...i know that these days landing a job, even a retail job at that isn't always easy, however i didn't quite prepare myself for the battering my fragile ego would cop from being rejected by potential employers. 

i've had a couple of interviews which haven't been successful for a couple of reasons.

a)  i become so anxious when i know i'm required to impress a manager/ sell myself that my brain totally freezes and anything constructive i had planned to say evaporates in my head. 

b) the fact i haven't been employed for eighteen months due to (mental) illness is pretty unappealing despite my experience prior to quitting my last job and the fact i have a psychology degree under my belt. 

c) when i'm agitated i come across as aloof and cold which is the total opposite of my actual personality if i was feeling calm. i have considered dosing myself up on valium before an interview to ease my anxiety, however i'd probably come across as a complete space cadet then and i don't know what is worse! 

after a couple of knock backs the little self-confidence i had built up took a nose dive and my optimism started to fade. combine this with a few consecutive low days and my old friend depression is perched back on my shoulder whispering those self-loathing sentiments in my ear again. 

i ran into my old manager the other day and she offered me my job back at jigsaw, however i really feel like it is important for me to start fresh somewhere...although i suppose beggars can't be choosy can they. 

instagram diary #4.

 apologies for my lack of posting lately- i've been quite busy recently  + i haven't really had access to the internet because mine suddenly decided to run horribly slow, grrr. here are some instagram snaps to tide you over until i'm able to write a proper post though!

1. totally want to get married in a pretty little church like this.

2. i love a good classic.

3. pearls, lace + peace.

4. i woke up next to this on valentines day- B can be such a romantic!

5. aa disco pants + clogs.

6. diy floral crown.

7. march is without a doubt the best time of year in sleepy, old adelaide!

roadtrippin'.

B and i returned from our road trip to melbourne on monday night. apart from the long drive (which was fun in parts, but boring in others) we had a lovely time. every time i visit melbourne i am overcome by a massive urge to pack up and move there because i love the city so much. i wish we were able to cram a bit more into our short stay but time simply escaped us. nonetheless, we caught up with B's sister and met some of her friends, did a bit of shopping, hit the city on saturday night and generally chilled.

i was planning to take a lot of photos, but forgot to get my camera out the majority of the time- hopeless! here are a few snaps i managed to capture on my phone though (apologies for the average quality).

 

after a nice weekend away, i was very upset to return to my parent's house and discover that my seventeen year old cat 'friday' was quite unwell. she's had a tumour on her liver for the last six months or so and although she's continued to live quite comfortably we were warned by the vet that she would gradually deterioate. mum and i took her to the vet and found out her tumour had started to hemorrhage and my precious girl would need to be put down to prevent her from suffering a painful natural death. on tuesday morning i had to say goodbye to my princess which is one of the hardest things i've ever had to do. i was given friday by my grandmother when i was six years old and couldn't have asked for a better companion throughout my childhood/ teenage years. as a child i remember pushing her around in my doll's pram and feeding her warm milk out of a bottle- i literally treated her like a baby. although i hate that my mental illness has forced me to move back home with my parents, i'm so grateful that i've been able to spend the last twelve months with my beautiful kitty.
i already miss seeing her around the house and all her amusing little quirks but i know i'll always have a special place in my heart for her.



musings of a modern gypsy.

 

this afternoon B and i decided to make the most of the pleasant weather and go for a walk a few blocks away from my parent's house. as we were strolling we passed a vacant paddock where a brightly painted caravan standing on its lonesome caught our attention. i had never seen such a unique caravan before and was immediately intrigued. i wondered if anyone was living in the vehicle or if it had been abandoned, however within seconds i came to the conclusion that it looked too pretty for anyone to discard and the odds and ends laying around haphazardly within a two metre radius of the van (a pair of shoes, a bucket and a chair) made it look occupied. i really wanted to take some photos but thought it would be rude to do so without permission first and i didn't want to get caught sneakily taking snaps, especially if someone called it 'home'. feeling daring i told B i was going to knock on the door and ask if i could take some photos- afterall the worst they could do was say no. he reluctantly followed (clearly not as enthralled by the spectacle as i ha). a minute or so after knocking an older looking woman wound down a window and greeted us. i apologised for bothering her and explained how beautiful i thought her caravan was. she informed me that she had hand painted it herself over a twelve year period and had travelled all over the world in it, re-locating every few months. after a few minutes of small talk she opened the door and invited us in to see her humble abode. upon entering, i was completely in awe of the magical gypsy chamber we had stepped inside. from wall to wall, floor to roof the van was overflowing with random artefacts and trinkets from various countries, dreamcatchers, windchimes, tapestries and mystical artworks etc. the floor had been painted in florals similar to the exterior and fake leaves had been glued in an intricate pattern across the ceiling and down one of the walls to appear like an ivy vine was growing indoors. i couldn't stop staring at everything, it was utterly mesmerizing! the woman introduced herself as W- a seventy four year old nomad, and although quite eccentric and a bit scattered she was nice enough and very interesting. she offered us both a cigarette and we sat down whilst she showed us photos and told us stories about her travels and life experiences. she had a tendency to go off on different tangents so it was a bit difficult to follow some of the conversation but nonetheless we ended up staying for three hours, or rather she talked non-stop for three hours and we didn't have the heart to interrupt her because she seemed to enjoy the company. among musings about spirituality, astrology, numerology, art and literature, she spoke about the importance of living in the moment rather than dwelling on the past or anticipating the future- funnily enough this sentiment echoed that of both my psychologist and psychiatrist, and really any mental health professional i've encountered that works from a mindfulness based framework.

 

by the time we departed i hadn't managed to take that many photos but you can kind of get a rough idea from the above images. not quite your average saturday afternoon but an inspiring one  nonetheless. i think i've fallen in love with the idea of being a free-spirited, modern day gypsy- at seventy four W was as vibrant as ever and full of life- her parting comment before we headed home "have fun kids...don't do anything i wouldn't do!"



and then she disappeared...

 

these photos of me were both taken last september just before i got sick.

the first was taken before one of my shifts at jigsaw. the second was taken one night out with two of my good friends, T and A. when i look at myself in these photos i feel like i don't even recognise this girl anymore. she seems so elusive now...a ghost...a mere memory of a past life.

 

i desperately miss the old me.

the me that worked like most other people my age, the me that studied to shape a career, the me that was social and had a lot of friends, the me that wasn't exactly 'high on life' but wasn't living in a nightmare either, the me that was independent and self-sufficient, the me that smiled and laughed more... the me that wasn't completely debilitated by depression and anxiety.

 

i miss this rhiannon and i hope and pray daily that somehow i'll be able to find her again...surely she must still exist somewhere deep inside of me, right?

i apologise for the depressing post...i guess i'm feeling a bit crap today.


coffee + cigarettes.

i've been spending way too much time lazing in the sun on my balcony, smoking, drinking coffee and searching the internet for new items to add to my never-ending wishlist. this is problematic for several reasons...
 

1) i gave up smoking on a regular basis some time ago now. unfortunately B smokes which has kind of tempted me to take up the bad habit again. i do realise, however, that smoking isn't an ideal coping mechanism nor is it making my lungs very happy.
 

2) i've always been a tea kind of girl but lately i've been craving coffee like some kind of addict, despite being well aware that caffeine sends my already sensitive nervous system into overdrive. for me, the only positive outcome of caffeine consumption is that all the nervous energy it generates turns me into a cleaning machine so my apartment is at least kept spotless.
 

3) my miserable bank account cannot afford all my wants, yet i still try to convince it otherwise. when i see something i like i tend to obsess about it until it's in my possession...therefore spending a ridiculous amount of time browsing my favourite online stores is a recipe for financial disaster. i'm trying my hardest to exercise restraint.

on the plus side, all the natural vitamin d i've been absorbing surely must counteract the above to some extent...at least that's what i like to tell myself! the weather lately has simply been too wonderful to stay indoors.

now the dust has settled.

to the beautiful ladies who left love and sympathy on my previous post i'd like to say a big, warm thank you for your heartfelt words. i am always pleasantly surprised by the continuous support of my followers and truly appreciate you all for allowing me to share my deepest thoughts and intimate details of my life free of judgement. you have no idea how much it means to me ♥

i spent much of last week in a codeine induced haze to ease the post-surgery pain. this period of rest also gave me the opportunity to properly digest the ectopic pregnancy and quietly mourn the loss of my baby. initially i was concerned that this traumatic event would significantly hinder the progress i had been making in recovering from my exhausting battle with depression and anxiety but thankfully i'm feeling a lot more emotionally stable this week after some TLC, visits from a handful of close friends and an appointment with both my psychiatrist and psychologist. over the weekend i was even feeling okay enough to venture into the city and purchase the sass and bide 'talara' sunglasses i had been wanting, then sunday night B surprised me with a pair of marc by marc jacobs rose gold turnlock studs and matching ring for being 'so brave and strong' the past week...and to apologise for being the guy that 'bust my tube'- ha! i guess there's kind of an amusing side to the sorry situation.

i'd take a photo of me wearing these babies but i'm looking too fugly for words right now- ugh! 

i love a good cat eye though, and the neon yellow on the sides is a bit of fun. 

gifts from B. i think it's safe to say that my collection of rose gold jewellery has been growing exponentially of late.

while i'm on the topic of new items, i'm loving these 'abbey' sandals from urge, but which colour to get- the fuchsia or leopard print?



mourning.

 

what a hectic week.

i doubt anything could have prepared me for the (unexpected) events that have proceeded to unfold over the last seven days and hurtled me back into a state of depression. i'm not even sure how to word this as i'm still trying to process the ordeal and figure out my emotions so i'll just share with you the facts.

 

thursday evening i discovered i was eight weeks pregnant.

considering i hadn't really experienced any symptoms to suggest i may have been carrying a baby (i get THE worst pms so bloating, breast tenderness, sweet cravings etc are all pretty standard for me anyway) this in itself came as a huge shock.

i made a trip down to my local medical centre because i was experiencing excruciating stomach pain and was losing an abnormal amount of blood (sorry for the ickiness!). after a urine test confirmed that i was pregnant the doctor predicted i was probably having a miscarriage but booked me in for an ultrasound the next morning nonetheless.

i didn't get much sleep thursday night. about a million thoughts were racing through my head.

the ultrasound on friday morning revealed that i was in fact still pregnant but instead of the fetus being attached to my uterus it was stuck in my left fallopian tube- an ectopic pregnancy.

as the baby had been growing it was stretching my tube beyond its capacity and causing internal bleeding. i was informed that this type of pregnancy was considered a medical emergency because the tube could potentially rupture and i would haemorrhage to death. consequently the baby would have to be removed, along with the tube if it had been damaged too much. following this discovery everything happened so fast- i was rushed down to the women's and children's hospital and being prepared for surgery that night. considering my mental state is already fragile at the best of times, i think the shock of it all sent my anxiety soaring which required a larger dose of xanax than i'd usually need to calm down. thankfully B (the guy i have been seeing, and obviously the father of the child) along with my mum and younger sister were amazingly supportive.

 

i woke up saturday morning in a fair bit of pain, both physically and emotionally. unfortunately the baby had caused extensive damage to my fallopian tube so it had to be removed along with the fetus- as a result my fertility has now been somewhat reduced which i'm finding pretty devastating and difficult to accept. the surgeon reassured me that i still have one healthy tube that i should be able to conceive from in the future but also warned me that i have a 10% chance of having another ectopic pregnancy.

 

i can usually describe my emotions pretty accurately but in this instance i cannot string together a sentence to articulate exactly how i'm feeling. furthermore, i don't know how i should be feeling.

i suppose i've never been very maternal in nature but for those twelve or whatever hours i actually knew i had a human that i created alive inside of me i experienced a very dramatic change of heart. i suddenly felt a strong connection to the baby, my baby,  and a desire to want to protect it from harm. knowing that my body failed in providing the best vessel possible to sustain a little life brings me great disappointment and the ambiguity of the cause of the ectopic has left me questioning whether i did something to jeopardize the normal implantation of the embryo. 

 

from a logical point of view i know that right now i am incapable in so many ways of bringing a child into this world so this outcome, despite the sadness it brings me is probably for the best, however i resent that i was unable to have any choice in the decision whether to keep it or not because of the life-threatening circumstances.

 

 overall the ideal word to describe how i'm feeling right now is empty. i didn't know i was pregnant for long, but i suppose this emptiness is all part of the natural grieving process. being told i was pregnant, would have to lose the baby, part of my reproductive system and my full fertility all in the same day was a lot to comprehend. my psychiatrist was contacted and requested i be kept in hospital a few days longer than usual to ensure i was coping okay and not about to throw myself off the hospital roof or something. 

 

i'm pretty certain this experience will remain with me for life, although i know in time things will get easier. sometimes i think i'm cursed with bad luck to constantly face these trials and tribulations, but then i try and remind myself that with each challange i overcome i'm getting a little bit stronger. hopefully one day i'll be strong enough to endure anything.



instagram diary #3.

 

 

 

 

1. afternoon downtime.

2. floral + vans.  

3. museum hangs.  

4. suicide awareness day love.

5. super keen to return to uni.

6. addicted to sushi train.

7. new in.

 

i know instagram snaps are a poor excuse for a post (apologies to those who follow me and have already seen these photos). i'll come up with some new blog-worthy material asap!



defeated.

 

i've caved and started anti-depressants (cymbalta 30mg to be exact).

i've fought fucking hard to avoid having to resort to this..

and my psychiatrist has fought equally as hard to try and medicate me.

i'm scared as absolute hell about potentially gaining weight,

and i feel so disappointed in myself that i've finally succumb to a chemical aid.
 i should be stronger than this. i know i'm stronger than this- but not at present.
i feel like a failure..but the truth is i cannot live like this anymore.

my quality of life has suffered so much over the past twelve months and it kills me seeing time slip away and my dreams being held on the backburner whilst i  continue existing in this warped reality inside my head.   

i have agreed to trial the SNRI for a month at minimum (i know that it takes this long for the meds to start taking effect) but have firmly stated that if for some reason my weight begins to escalate then i will promptly discontinue the treatment.

i know to most this rationale would seem pretty ridiculous, particularly if the cymbalta successfully stabilised my mood and decreased my anxiety, but unfortunately my issues surrounding my weight/ shape/ size are insanely controlling, and being a perfectionist by nature makes me a slave to this disordered thinking. i'm working with my psychologist to try and conquer my obsession with being rail thin and to establish some more healthy beliefs about my image and sense of self-worth, however this is a work in progress.

i'll let you know how i get on.



making peace.

those who have followed my blog from the beginning will know that my turbulent relationship with T has been a significant part of my life over the last 2-3 years. even after he left adelaide early last year, we still remained in contact semi-regularly until i totally cut ties with him just after i got ill. to be honest, even if i wanted to continue our 'on-off relationship', which was nothing short of destructive to the both of us, i was so disabled by my unexpected plunge into psychological mayhem that for the first time since having met T i knew that i literally did not have the mental capacity to play anymore games and my health had to become my number one priority. we hadn't engaged in any form of communication for over ten months, in fact the last i heard he had a new girlfriend. then the other day i randomly received a facebook message from him asking how i was going. i had mixed feelings about hearing from him, partly because i was wary of his intentions (he's always had a knack for waltzing in and out of my life at his leisure and managing to make me become hooked on him all over again) and partly because so much has happened to me since we last spoke. i feel very guarded right now because of how fragile i've been both mentally and physically since i became ill. i feel i need to protect myself from any unnecessary drama that has the potential to be too emotionally draining.

despite this, being ill for such a long period of time has taught me so many valuable lessons which i am very grateful for. this time last year i would have described myself as an A-grade hater. to put it bluntly, so many things fucked me off. i was often disgruntled and seemed completely unable to just smile and 'let things go'. i'm not really sure why i grew to have this attitude when i know that i'm generally not a hateful person. i know i bang on about this hormone stuff a lot, and it doesn't excuse me from being a moody bitch, but the fact that i fell in a heap only a few short months later indicates to me that shit was really brewing under the surface and contributing to my overall feelings of discontentment...it was only a matter of time before my body was going to make me aware of that.

i guess i've come to realise that life really is too short to hold grudges and to remain bitter about relationships that have turned sour or things in life that have caused me pain. i've come to realise that there is no greater relief than to forgive, and maybe not forget- but accept. accept shit that's happened in the past and rather than being filled with anger and resentment, being able to reminisce about the good times and accept everything else as an experience in my journey through life.

T and i talked and this time it was different. i could see that him approaching me wasn't to try and rekindle our former romance or even a booty call, but a genuine attempt at trying to make peace- to acknowledge that although our history together is far from perfect, we shared a connection that is rare to find among two people and it would be a waste to let spite get in the way of putting things right. now i know that some would say 'let sleeping dogs lie', and in a lot of cases i would tend to agree, but in all honesty, it feels so beautiful and liberating to let things go and wish T nothing but happiness in his future relationships and endeavours. i have had boyfriends before T but i'm pretty confident in saying that he was my first 'real love', and as a result i'll always hold a special place in my heart for him, i think that's only natural. i know that as a couple we have issues, but since some time has passed i'm so happy that we can be friends, no bullshit, no jealousy, just an honest, legitimate friendship .

i probably quote american beauty a bit too much, but i think kevin spacey (aka lester burnham) articulates my sentiments exceptionally well.

"i guess i could be pretty pissed off about what happened to me, but it's hard to stay mad when there's so much beauty in the world. sometimes i feel like i'm seeing it all at once, and it's too much. my heart fills up like a balloon that's about to burst. and then i remember to relax, and stop trying to hold on to it. and then it flows through me like rain. and i can't feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life".

instagram diary #2.

1. 6pm.

2. breakfast is my favourite.

3. silver armour.

4. nonna's staircase.

5. pretty in pink.

6. currently on rotation.

7. being a greenthumb.

i promise to start blogging regularly again soon. watch this space.

rays of sunshine.

i haven't been posting anywhere as near as often as i'd like to- truth is i'm still trying to get my stupid body sorted out so i'm very up and down at the moment. i resemble a person suffering from bipolar, even though i know my unstable emotions/mood is soely due to my fluctuating hormones and the accompanying treatment to get everything balanced.

my psychologist, psychiatrist and endocrinologist are all in agreement that my mental illness (not just recent, but for the past five years or more) is predominantly biological. i am so relieved that finally a logical explanation has been found to justify my abnormal mindset/ behaviour and why i haven't responded particularly well to therapy. my psychiatrist has described the depression i've been experiencing as melancholic which is a particularly severe subtype of major depression and a consequence of my hormonal imbalance, along with the generalized anxiety.

maybe once, sometimes twice a week i have a 'good' day (when all my hormones are playing nicely i suspect), and fuck it feels amazing. it feels like i'm seeing the world for the very first time- the colours are so vibrant, the sounds are so intense (no, i'm not blazed, nor am i high on xanax or valium). i feel uplifted, optimistic and at peace with myself. on these days i feel like the haze that i'm always forced to view the world through evaporates and everything is so damn extraordinary. i am simply grateful just to be alive, to be breathing, to feel the warm glow of the sun on my skin. i feel almost euphoric and for the duration of the 'good' day can't even believe that i toy with the idea of suicide on a regular basis. alas, these moods are fleeting, and as much as i try to hold onto these feelings as tighly as possible they soon slip away and again i am consumed by deep depression and anxiety.

i am learning not to be disappointed when my dark mood returns. i am also learning not to focus too much on trying to make the euphoric feeling linger for longer than it is willing to stay. i have decided that while i'm feeling 'good' i will simply enjoy it..embrace it..and be as productive as possible while i have some zest for life circulating through me. these windows of wellness are a taste of how much better i could feel indefinitely once i'm fully recovered and demonstrate to me that this long and exhausting battle is worth the fight.

i am excited to be well, and not just half-assed well, but truly well so i can be uninhibited from being the happy, confident, creative, ambitious, kind, affectionate person i know that i am at the core of my personality. i am excited to achieve my goals and pursue my dreams, to appreciate the small things, travel, reunite with old friends and meet new ones. i am excited to regain my independence, move back to my apartment, study, take up new hobbies, and last but certainly not least work again so i can cross off some of the items i haven't been able to afford recently on my evergrowing wishlist! (hello alexander wang, acne, marc by marc jacobs, wildfox..)

i'm only writing this post because i'm feeling relatively positive right now. tomorrow this could change, but i'm okay with that.

p.s you're probably bound to see more action out of me on instagram than on here at the moment. my username is rhiannon_skye (yes, that is also my real name- i've been reluctant to reveal it thus far, but eh). feel free to follow me!

tip of the iceberg.

my apologies for being m.i.a of late- it's been a rough (although enlighening) few weeks. it has now been six months that i've been unwell. six fucking months. i know in the grand scheme of things six months isn't that long really when you consider those who spend years battling cancer or something. nonetheless, words cannot describe how utterly exhausted and over it i am. i feel like i've been through the fucking ringer. after months of seeing various mental health professionals with miminal progress in terms of my recovery both my optimism and willpower to contine this battle were definitely dwindling. throughout this time not only have i struggled to find the correct path back to optimal health, but have been completely baffled by the source behind the onset of this disorder. i have racked my brain countless times trying to come up with some sort of logical explanation to justify this monster creeping up on me so unexpectedly, however, all my carefully constructed theories, my extensive research and even my psych background have amounted to nothing but a bunch of loose ends. a whole lot of unanswered questions. now i like a good mystery as much as the next person, but not one that can't be solved and not one that is occuring in my own body!

the past four weeks has been a month of revelations. finally the pieces to this puzzle are starting to fit together. *warning 'woman talk' coming up*. with each month that has passed throughout this ordeal, i began noticing a slight pattern to the severity of the anxiety (and depression for that matter). mid way through my menstrual cycle and the week prior to getting my period were the worst- standard pms i assumed. the week following my period i felt somewhat 'anxiety free', although the relief was only temporary. i discussed these observations with the facilitator of my group therapy, and while she reassured me that hormonal changes can influence a person's mood who has a predisposition to mental illness, she suggested that maybe i should make an appointment with an endocrine (hormone specialist). feeling like i'd exhausted all other avenues and in sheer desperation i did exactly that. i started seeing dr callighan two months ago and the first thing he asked me to do was stop taking the pill (which i'd been on since i was 16 or so) so he could do some tests and examine what my natural hormones were doing. i followed his instructions and patiently waited for my system to rid itself of seven years of synthetic hormones. my first cycle off the pill was okay, i didn't feel much different to be honest. this past cycle, however- oh my god, i turned into some psycho bitch from an R rated horror movie. i can positively say i have never felt more out of control and more scared of myself. the bad stuff started happening from ovulation onwards- extreme anxiety, panic attacks, suicidal type depression, bouts of uncontrollable crying, an overwhelming sense of hopelessness and more self-loathing than ever. my beloved hair started falling out in clumps (dismiss my psych's diagnosis for this below), my skin became dehydrated, i kept getting urinary tract infections which antibiotics couldn't clear up and generally felt like fucking shit. here is a snippet from my personal journey that i wrote around this time...

"i am now so completely and utterly absorbed in my own misery that i simply cannot comprehend anything beyond this, and the truth is i am scared. i am deeply frightened by the way i am feeling. i am scared to live, and i am scared to die. i feel like i'm biding my time on some strange middle ground suspended between life and death just waiting for fate to swing me one way or another. i imagine this scenario is precisely what people have in mind when they describe 'limbo'. in latin the term means edge or boundary, referring to the 'edge' of hell. well i am definitely in limbo, on la la land, on another fucking planet for all i know. i feel like this intricate tangle of problems has become such a knotted mess that i simply do not have the ability or energy to continue trying to unravel everything. my body aches. every part of my being aches. but most of all my soul aches, aching for some form of relief. desperately searching for the key to unlock the source of my eternal misery so i can finally heal before it's too late".

by day twenty-one hanging myself with an extension cord from a gum tree in my parent's front yard was becoming all too tempting so i promptly got on the phone and demanded an explanation from my poor endocrine as to why i had so rapidly gone from an anxious person to a nutcase in the span of a couple of weeks. thankfully this 'experiment' as he called it wasn't a total waste of time. the blood tests revealed quite a significant hormonal imbalance- basically i produce too much oestrogen in comparison to progesterone and all my symptoms, both psychological and physical were characteristic of 'oestrogen dominance'. the doctor believes that i've probably had this imbalance since adolescence but the pill had been somewhat artifically regulating my hormones and masking the symptoms. apparently over time synthetic progesterone contained in the pill can hinder your body's ability to produce its own natural progesterone and in turn contribute to depression and anxiety. i'm still trying to get my head around all this as for years now i've been told by mainstream medical pracitioners that my mental illness is the result of a chemical imbalance, some kind of trauma, genetics or a personality thing (which i haven't entirely ruled out) but when i reflect on my history as a 'woman' and the reaction i had when coming off the pill i am increasingly convinced that all my troubles could be hormonal.

dr callighan aims to naturally get my hormones in balance again through the use of bio-identical progesterone cream so i hopefully start feeling better. it's all a bit trial and error getting the dose correct and monitoring my symptoms throughout the month as my hormones fluctuate, however i'm trying to remain positive that this treatment has the potential to make me feel the best i've felt since entering the turbulent phase of puberty.

a lot of the time i resent my anxiety. it has stole so much from me in a mere six months, but i also feel thankful for it because it has posed as a valuable warning sign that something greater has been happening below the surface that i've been totally unaware of. i hate to think of how many women out there are experiencing the same kind of issues, being labelled as 'mentally unstable' and fed anti-depressants or similar. a 'band-aid' is not a solution, and i refuse to resort to this. i am determined to fix the root cause of my anxiety/depression so i can at last move the fuck on with my life and enjoy being a healthy, happy twenty-three year old.

instagram diary #1.

instagram is finally on android- fuck yeah!  

1. dusk from my balcony.

2. ysl peach passion lippy.

3. summer days.

4. too much chocolate.

5. aa + house of harlow.

6. wittner mosi boots.

7. obligatory selfie.