God makes beauty from ashes

I read that on Facebook once and it really resonated with me. I am a lion. I don't need to care what the stupid sheep around me think of me. I've had this struggle my whole life with dobbing people in, you know. I don't know where it stems from but it is very powerful and the main drive behind it is that whoever is in trouble - whoever did do the crime/thing/whatever they shouldn't have done - if anyone asks me about it, I instantly feel the need to protect them. To lie for them if need be. Because I need the person to like me. No matter how horrible they are. I don't know why. I've done it my whole life - covering for my brother. Taking the blame when it was his fault. I've done it the most for bullies in my life and it makes me so angry and sad because I don't understand why I do it. "Who hit you, Janet?" teachers have asked in the past. I knew exactly who it was and yet I couldn't move my mouth. Nothing in my body wou

I'm not suicidal anymore. Thought it best to start with that. I guess I've officially levelled up because I'm not weighing up whether I should be alive or not, anymore. I am so thankful that I am not in that hell anymore. It was literally killing me. Instead, I'm tired and I'm unwell. The Doctor today listened to me tell him all my symptoms and frowned a lot. "You're a non smoker?" Never smoked in my life. "Any history of Asthma?" Nope. "Let's listen to your chest" And I breathe in deeply. And out. "Again" And again and again. A lot more than I'm used to. He listens and frowns again. "I'd like to send you for a chest x-ray, Janet" The Doctor finally says. This guy is new. Dr Downey doesn't work at this clinic anymore, God bless her. I miss her kind face, her wrinkles and her grey curls. I miss the way she always held my hands in hers. Her hands felt like dry leaves. Sof

The below is ENTIRELY fiction. It's just me daydreaming - thought you'd like to come with me: Sliding Doors I catch the train to work every day. I go up the same stairs. I see the same people - the woman who always eats a mars bar as she waits at the station. The guy who wears black jeans and 'VANS' on his feet that look really comfortable. I sit in the same row of seats on the train, always across from the same lady in her blue Nursing scrubs. She doesn't get off the train in the city like everyone else. I guess she must be going to Freo. I feel like I'm living Groundhog day. Every day, the same things. Again and again. But today is different. Today, I don't get off the train at the Perth station. The doors slide open as they always do at the station but this time, I don't get off. Because today, I am resolved to be a rebel . I watch as everyone gets off the train and new passengers get on. I feel a flutter of excitement in my stomach - a

I'm not there yet...not as bad as I was in June 2017...but I'm close. Because I feel like I'm crawling through life on my hand and knees. I heard someone describe depression once as "a video game - we are all in a video game and everyone has been given instructions and are starting on the easiest mode - but people who are depressed have been given no instruction at all and their lives are set to the hardest mode" and I get that - I so relate - because it feels like everyone around me is saying "it's easy" "this is so fun" "wow - just like that!" and I'm struggling. I'm running, jumping, ducking, diving, getting shot at and having to fight demons with no weaponry when everyone around me is collecting gold coins and smiling away - having the best time. This sucks ass, you guys. This is so hard. "Just set goals" my best friend LB and a stranger I've never met in real life (he is a Facebook mate) have t

That's one of the most moving songs I've ever heard - Coldplay's "Fix you". Because in the song, he loves someone and just wants to help them. And that is what Alun, my Psych and my closest and dearest friends are trying to do with me, they all want to fix me. I understand it because I would be the same if the roles were reversed. I would want to fix you, too. But in the headspace I am in right now - nothing will ever get better again . I can't be fixed . I feel as if I was an A4 peice of paper and life ripped me up into tiny peices and threw me into a heavy gust of wind. All my peices scattered - hundreds of little pieces of me all around and I'm supposed to put myself back together. I'm supposed to do this over ONE weekend, am I? SERIOUSLY? I love my friend Marc and he encouraged me to ask for help. So I asked. It cost me dearly to admit I wasn't "great", but I reached out to my Psych "George" and he responded

Marc . He is the little brother I've always wanted. Marc is loyal, sweet, funny, quick-witted, sarcastic AF, determined, stubborn, filthy-minded like me and someone I can be 100% myself with. He is a careful thinker, that guy. He considers things long and hard before he says or does anything and that wisdom in such a young man is really rare and so beautiful. Marc messaged me last night (or was it this morning? I have no idea when trying to work out the time difference between the UK and Australia) and he said some really tough, gritty, beautiful, soul-lifting things. One of them was that he loved me . Another was that he wouldn't be the person he was without me in his life. Both made me cry because before I read them, I was about to jump off a roof. So Marc ...you saved my life today , lad. Because of you, I stepped back from the very top of my work building (it is filthy up there, you don't even know) and I caught the lift back to the floor I work on. I love you more

I heard once that flying a helicopter is less about actually flying it and more about stopping it from turning itself upside down. I think that's how I live my life right now - just doing everything I can not to crash. I'm so messed up in my mind and heart that I'm just trying to stay upright and damn it's hard. What's hardest about depression, anxiety and suicide (COMBINED right now in my heart and in my head) is that you don't know you need help until you're teetering on the edge of a train line, hoping - just hoping - a train will obliterate you. But I can't involve anyone else in my death. I don't want that for people. Imagine if there were little ones on that train? I would never forgive myself. So I step back. I keep breathing. BUT OH MY GOD IT HURTS. And that's my thinking right now - every second that I am here, I'm deciding to be here . AND IT HURTS, TOO. LIKE A BASTARD. Because life hurts , you guys. It is frea

That's all I had to get my sh*t together. Literally yesterday. On Monday, I fell completely apart. I was so tired and so burnt out from these long hours and busy weekends that I lost my mind. I texted Alun "I'm going to kill myself because it means I can have a nice long sleep and NO ONE will judge me for it" Alun texted back instantly "I'm at work so I can't call you. Please don't hurt yourself. I love you" I texted again - shaking so badly because I was so fed up with the world "I don't care if you get angry, I just want to die. I've had enough" Work demands were flying at me at a million miles an hour on reception so I carried on with them - and in what seemed like mere minutes, Alun was stepping out of the lift and into the reception area where I work. At the time, I was bent over, head on my desk just crying. " Oh Gorg " I looked up and was so happy to see his gorgeous face. I had

If you talk to me and tell me something personal - something private - it doesn't leave me. On very rare ocassions, I might tell Alun - but only to get his viewpoint on something and because I know Alun won't tell anyone else. 1) Because he respects people's privacy and doesn't gossip. Not ever 2) Because he probably wasn't listening anyway and was just nodding along so I felt better :) Husbands have selective hearing, I'm pretty sure. I know what it's like to have your secrets exposed - it is awful. So, I don't pass them on. They don't even have to be secrets - they can just be random things you and I have talked about - over lunch, on the bus ride home, over texts or facebook messages - anything. I naturally want to protect you and care for you so anything you say to me stays with me. I will never repeat it and it will NEVER go onto my facebook or any other public forum. That being said - with my OWN life and MY OWN SECRETS - I am EXTR

Hey guys, Nothing new to report - just loads of eat, work, eat, sleep...and repeat, repeat, repeat. I didn't know my life would end up being so boring . I want to write to you about wonderous, amazing things. I want to read back on this blog, nod my head the way I do at my blog entries sometimes and say "yeah girl - that was a good one" but I just feel empty and like I've got nothing to give. I know I'm tired. I work long hours and I'm still not used to them, so every day when I trudge up the hill towards our home, I feel the relief of homecoming - but more so because I can lay down . I am so physically, emotionally and mentally 'spent' at the end of a week day that I literally hug Alun (he's been home a lot lately), put on pjs and go to bed. I'm asleep before 6pm and then awake again before I know it and wearily trudging back to work. What is my life? I feel a sense of 'missing out' coupled with a sense of mild resentment