I’m done

Whats the point? I wanted to do it so much last week and I was so close. I only didn’t because I knew knowing my luck it wouldn’t work. I literally don’t feel like I have anything to live for anymore. I’ve poisoned my brother and my sister thinks I hate her. So do my oarents. My family is all messed up and I’m failing at achool. My body is even rejecting me now. I’ve ben depressed for 5 years and it never stops. Just qhen I think everything’s getting better everything comes crashing down on me. I’m losing track of time. I don’t feel safe anywhere anymore and I’m tired of all the ahit. I cant go se a doctor because my parents think its all a joke. I hate my apearance and my weight and i cant find passion in anything anymore. I’ve lost sight of whats lufes for. We’re going to sie eventually qhy cant I just make my life shorter? I’ve got nothing to live for xxx


7 steps forward 3/10 back.

I want to change things up a little bit on my blog. Since recently, nope. For a while now, I’ve had a rather pessimistic attitude towards everything, and a deep sense of melancholy.

I’m not going to sit here and pretend like I’m entirely happy and over the moin because the reality is I’m far from it. I’ve had polar opposite mood fluctuations from regret, bitter hate and vindictive rage – to reminiscent happiness, pride, and euphoric love. Instead I would like to look for the light amongst the blackest shadows, for once.

Let me just give you a little context.

I’m Nathan, I’m a gay, 16 year old male who has anxiety and other yet to be diagnosed mental illness. But the mental illness is insignificant to this discussion. On Mondays I go to this support group for LGBT+, where we have lengthy worthwhile discussions of life, the universe and everything in between. Today our topic discussion was what is good about being gay, my answer was the pride and individuality that is beholden to me. I also love how to the best of my known I was one of the 1st openly gay students of my year and below.

If there is one thing I can be proud of it is the way I feel I laid the foundations for the freedom to be a unique individual. I don’t want to say to be LGBT either, because it isn’t just that community.

I stood up tall without breaking composure time, and time again with the crown upon my head and held the self respect to be myself. I never let anybody dull my shine, and I handled the disrespect and fear from other people with enough intellect. The strange questions were handled to the best of my ability. To this day I am openly gay, and I aim to shine light on all my peers who are and to help them escape the proverbial curtains holding back their true self.

I have never been the most popular in my year, obviously. But I stood talk against at least 30 people, broadcasting my indifference to their attitude. I showed them no fear. If I can show all those people that I weren’t backing down from the fight, then I could show the whole year. That is besides the fact that it did result in everybody knowing. I would like to think I bled into them the small bit of acceptance they now have, that has now allowed lots of others to come out. So far I can think of about 10, with at least half coming from my year who are officially out in public. This feels like a major achievement to me as it completely contrasts against the 1 person whom was me originally.

However, saying that we still have a long way to progress and a lot of misguided and judgement to stamp out and I 100% have my own fair share or regrets. For example it took me 2 years to tell my parents and family and even then it was a split second decision after my parents had found images of male bodies and faces, as well as fanfiction. Eventhough I could have easily excused either discovery, I fessed up on the spot and since then I’ve not looked back much. I see it as what it was, it happened and I’m happy it did However I do wish I had the courage to them sooner. It’s quite frightening that i found it easier to tell 500 students and more than I did find telling my parents.

I’m tired.

I’m tired. I’m bored. I’m passing by. The past month has passed by ever so slowly. Wake up just to to go back to sleep. Drag myself out of bed because I have to. Sit in a classroom and force my pen to paper and mentally squeeze anything I can out, which as it happens is the bare minimal. Same thing different day. Wake up at 5 in the morning, have coffee sit around for an hour moping, shower spend another hour getting ready because I’m tired and cba. Spend an hour commuting to school via school bus. I want to isolate myself from the stupidity surrounding me so I plug in my music and pull up my hood. I mentally dim the lights and drown out their voices. In that moment I’m safe and nobody can hurt me. I throw myself of the bus with a grateful thank you to the bus driver and throw myself through the school gates. I force a smile upon my face and blink away the tears with a beavy facade of ‘mutual happiness’ – where in the reality of it most of us are done with life and we’re all tired.

I hide my pain under an illusion of fake happiness and petty humour. I annoy my friends or argue with them subliminally. It started off as a joke originally, a few years back, to numb the pain, and now it’s an uncontrollable, mess, that won’t stop. I slowly wither away in plain sight but nobody notices.

The day finishes and I commute home with the heavy feeling still weighing me down. I get home and climb into bed. And I’m out like a light, not necessarily asleep but I’m at home. Sinking into my made up fantasy to escape reality. I plug my music in abd drown out my sorrows. Eventually I fall asleep to the mellow tune. I wake up, eat, throw up some homework and skeep. It’s 5 in the morning and it repreats itself all over again.

Small update

If I’m correct I last posted on Saturday. I’ve got no groundbreaking news nor have I invented some new life changing 2technological advancement.

The days have been a bit dull since, though I will say my moods have continued to bounce everywhere and I’m still getting triggered by the slightest things. Hey, nothing new there. I’ll start off by saying that the weekend wasn’t great if I weren’t upset about Thursdays events I was ashamed of the way I’d been behaving for the past 2 months or I was being jealous of something or another. On Sunday I got into a heated discussion with a friend because they called me a “pleb” and a “dope” as a joke and I’m still taking offense at the silliest things. School is still shit, god forbid i say it ūüėā. On the bright side I paid for my prom ticket, not that I’m actually excited to go. I just have a sinking feeling in my gut I will regret it if I don’t go. As I was saying school is still shit, the days continue to drag, my brain continues to be filled with an emptiness and my self expression has just blew out of the window. My self image hasn’t been too damaged – in the fact it’s had worse moments. It’s just not as good as it was last week.

This morning I woke up holy exhausted almost like a truck had ran over me. I could’nt be bothered to get out of bed or anything and I felt sick to the skin.and bones. My wake up coffee didn’t help neither did my morning shower. That was fun. The school journey was…… Well actually I could’nt tell you because I honestly don’t remember. And the 1st 2 hours sucked. I think I did average on my chemistry test and I did horrendously in my English question answer. It took me half of the given time to figure out how nature was portrayed and the best answer i could come up with was “In this poem Nature has been portrayed as being a powerful force to be reckoned with” – because that isn’t a primary school answer.

Primary school used to be so easy. Free milk and biscuits all around, linger breaktomes, less stress, less slags, arrogant men and no hierarchy of popularity. In addition to that is the fact we only had to worry about missing a hit in rounders or singing assemblies. God do I miss the goid old days. The days when life was perfectly sweet for all, or it was so in comparison to now. Back to wgen I didn’t know the word “anxiety” was a thing and “depression” was a sadness that stuck around for a long time for no reason. I knew what I were feeling back then even wasn’t basic sadness bit never would i have imagined it to the extent it could be.

Sometimes I do ponder heniously on my true path. I ponder on what my role on Earth is. Is it to end my life before I reach 18? Is it to become Prime Minister? Or to live on the streets or in a 1 bed council flat and take my daily dose of coca√Įne? Life hasn’t been kind to me just yet. For every good thing I’m given I believe I’m given another 3 bad things. I wonder what that is supposed to change. A friend once told me the clich√© quote “you were given this life, because you’re strong enough to live it” but i don’t understand. Whats the point surving a battle yo come out with half a kneee, an eyeball and 7 fongers? What’s yoyr use in life then when you’re already broken goods.

Eventually that precious and fragile china set sat on granny Susans shelf will break. It will shatter into a thousand pieces and even though you can glue the pieces back together you will still always know the broken chapter. Or a mirror. – 7 years of bad luck. Is that because “trust is like a mirror you can fix it if it’s broken, but you can still see that crack in that mother fuckers reflection”.Reflection; the exact word I would use. You don’t expect a withered soul to move on and forget everything do you? They are always going to reflect on the past unless they’re the happiest person on Earth, but for the broken that’s something we only see in fairy tales.

Dont we all just want our own happy little fairytale ending?

Been a difficult past 2 months. 

This past month has probably obviously shown to people how difficult i can be and how far my ups and downs can go. My emotions have been all over the place, from extreme anger to bitter melancholy or to absolutely nothing at all. My anxiety has been really bad and I clearly haven’t handled it well. I’ve had quite a few major break downs and a lot of harsh things have been said. My head has been a mess and I haven’t known how to handle it. I’ve cried, screamed and suppressed feelings. I have this feeling I should probably go on medication because I really don’t know how much more I can take of these mood flips. I’m tired constantly and my brain is just empty, I’ve not been able to complete school work to anywhere near my best ability and possibly not even near good standard too. I’m really struggling to keep a hold of myself. I cant explain it.

There’s a war inside my head and I have 7 sides battling each other. The tides are constantly changing and I can’t keep up with them because they flip too quickly. I have to put up with the backlash. Everytime I’ve had a breakdown I’ve not remembered what has happened. I’m losing myself, my family and my friends and I’m just hiting self destruction. How does one go about supressing 7 battles inside their head? How? I really dont think I can do this anymore I’m breaking slowly and eventually I’m just going to snap. I’m terrified. I need help. Help! How the fuck do I get help? I’m crying out for help so much and nobody is realising. I cant do this. ūüėĘ 

I’ve put up with far too much for 5 years and each year gets worse. Whats the point going on if its just going to get worse each year I’ve said it will get better I just have to be patient.  Ooo you have uni in ___ years live for that. Ooooo your brother loves you, live for him. But i cant because this battle inside my head is ruining me and Im taking it out on everybody I know.  My sister thinks I hate her, god knows my friends should hate me. I’m failing in all my subjects. I’m never going to be happy. Everytime i find something to be happy anout something comes along and ruins it. 

I will never have a best friend who will be there for me forever, I’m not ever going to have kids. I’m never having a partner who I will marry and live happy ever after with. All i will ever know is abuse and mistrust and jealousy. I’m always going to be the outcast who can’t control themselves. 

I cant believe I was saying I was depressed in year 5. I was never mentally great to be honest but I wasn’t as badly depressed then as i am now. And my anxiety wasn’t as bad. 

I think I have bpd. I match the criteria to a T and it just explains it all. I dont just have a mix of depression and anxiety. My moods and perception of life and everybody i know swings 360¬į 24/7. I start of the day happy and loving everybody and within an hour I’m verbally throwing knives at everybody I know. 

I’ve lost my personality to the illness. I cant even remember who the real me is anymore.  Now I just use humour to keep me alive. I get lost in fiction and fandoms to distance myself from the reality that is in my head. I’m not even bothered who I make laugh anymore as long as it lessens the wound for me and intoxicates me I’m good. I dont care if it upsets anybody anymore as long as it convinces me the pain isn’t there. I’ve started going for desperate measures now. 

Bitchy monologue scripted

How it should have gone down. 

;mum standing in the corner holding a can of lager, half drunk, pretending to look for my brothers tablet becabecause she is absolutely considerate it is 1 in the m9rning and I’ve been awake since 5 after having 3 hours sleep; 
Me: “yanno this tablet wont find itself, its not going to grow legs and walk up to you and say. You know what I’m right here, i win!” – actually 97% of what i said. 

Her: looking around at 9 people looking for them to defend her, then starts loudly wailing how that morning i told her off for waking up late and standing their for 10 minutes doing nothing and she always does everything for me and I am such a bad disrespectful lazy son. 

Aunts after 10 minutes of bitching; “my daughters been washing her clothes since she was 9. You could do it if you tried”. 

Me mentally, nows where the mental monologue jumps in: Well actually firstly before i get started. I do wash my clothes quite often, my mum just washes my uniform so shhhh. 

Now Susan (not susan but anyways ) let me tell a few home truths. You’re an hypocrite, you’re all hypocrites so lets sit down and Ill elaborate. You have 4 kids to 3 different dads. The 1st 1 was abusive, 2nd one probably too and now with the 3rd one you’re a big snob. Acting like you were raised in a upper class family. No susan you were raised the same way as everybody else in this family. Now lets talk about your kids shall we? Eldest moved out after uni and got a boyfriend etc. Yeap you’re close dont know why. Other one in manchester with her girlfriend as far as I know. 3rd one no job, moved out to het away from you even if it was to a controlling and manipulative father. Ladt thing i remember you told me yo cudfle her because she was depressed. 

Linda, let us see where are all your 6 kids now, oh and the 7th who you were contemplating aborting. Hmmmm. All to how many dads? To possibly 3 dads – best part is nobody, nevermind you knows.  No job, sits on her arse all day drinking alcohol and drowning away her sorrows. Lets talk about your kids actually now. Eldest has a kid on the way hes 18. Far as im aware no job and hanging out with his cronies stealing cars and gangbanging some slapper in the park with 10 other guys. 2nd eldest no job, depressed, suicidal, not got great gcses . Pretty great cousins ngl though i love them to pieces but don’t even dare think about coming for my grass when yours is bordeline black its that unkempt. 4th is a fucking prat who acts like hes 2 24/7 annoying as shit everybody hates him. 3rd, great kid ngl only fault is that he has adhd. Youngest 2 aren’t bad. But the younger ones act so disrespectful. 

I love my cousins to bits like i said but I disaproove of how they were raised, not them personally. I’m also sorry that I had to bring them into this but in realised they have all slipped up down the line in regards to me and I do take it personally. I replay all those moments in my head, all the accusations and doubt.  All the times i were an outcast. 

Right dearie old mother you’re turn you selfish bitch. Now the real hypocrisy is coming out for you all. 

This one goes out to you all. Going yo start with susans “give her a cuddle shes depressed “. Aren’t we all love. No wonder shes depressed with a morher like you, father like she has and a fucked up family like we all do. Maybe pass her some of your cocajne should liven her spirits.  
Linda, after i called my mum a drama queen you replied she wasnt and started to bad mouth me. Nahhh ahhh honey thats not how we play is it? Do i need to remind you of ^^^^. But lets talk about me now then. 

You know what isnt dramatic? Going through 4 years of depression and anxiety and not telling a soul of your family members.  Adter the 1st time you told them abd they replied it was me faking it for attention and it was pathetic. How it was just nerves and being a teenager. Well SHIT THE ACTUAL FUCK UP YOU DUMB WITTED PIEVE OF SHIT. YOU KNOW HAT IS PATHETIC DRINKING ALCOHOL AND DOING COKE AND WEED. Dont come to me asking if im okay calling me an attention seaker when you see im slitting my wrists to drown out the pain you stupid piece of shit. Dont tell me im faking the pain when i hide my tears day in day fucking out to stop the murmuring and shitty excuses of why i cant be depressed. Now tell me you’re suicidal and cant deal with life. If i can juggle being bullied, being gay, having suicidal thoughts, depression, anxiety, friends who complain 24/7 about their isdues and family that do too and still manage to not kill myself I’m either doing something right and you’re oing something wrong or vice versa. If you hate you’re life do something about it or just do us all a favour and end it because im sick and tired to my teeth of you’re shit.

Now mother you selfish piece of shit. Dont complain to me about dishes, washing, money, depression the house if you’re not going to do anything for it. Pick up the make a phone call, get a job and stop claiming your benefits wont pay enough for youf kids to your kids. Next time use contraception silly twat. Stop crying on the sofa in selfpity. Stop blaming everybody for your own mistakes. Stop telling me! Stop! Being! So! Selfish! I kerp myself alive do you dont have to pay for my funeral because god fucking knows you cant afford it.

I’m done and dusted in jumping in to save the day all the time and cleaning up after all the mess you all made. Fuck yourselves and gave fun doing it because i know ill have fun being gone after I’m done with sixth form. 

Bye for now, the black sheep. – how ironic. 


Im in a pocket in time that feels like purgatory. I’m feeling hurt enough but not hurt enough to hurt myself. I’m feeling nothing, but jothing near enough to the point where I don’t feel nothing at all. 

I’m hurting, I’m sad for lack of better term, but I’m also numb. I’m feeling like an incomplete jigsaw piece.  Ive got tears in my eyes and a head pounding with thoughts but theres something stopping me from feeling whole so instead I just feel suppressed and tired. I almost feel invisible. I feel like a sack of potatoes just sagging in mid air. It’s super difficult to explain. I feel this weight and pressure all over my body causing me to feel hunched over and dead. 

Over the weekend I went through so much trauma and due to not knowing how to react i forced it out of sight and mind and this is the aftermath of it. 

My hearts split in 2. There’s this guy. I’m in love, like deeply. I feel drawn to him like a magnet and my brain goes fuzzy thinking about him. He brings out the eorst and the best in me. I’m getying mixed signals. We’re talking and I’m spectating this hidden flirtatious drip to his words and smiles and it makes me stutter and blush in front of me. He has me tripping over my own feet. 

I’m pretty sure he’s definitely straight but the mixed ferlings are really confusing me. Over the weekend i came so close to telling him how i felt so many times and i know thats jyst social suicide but I’m lost and heartbroken at the moment and its killing me. 

Anxiety – my recent assualt.

For this one time, I’m going to call them an anxiety assault. THis one was different, it has never ever once been so bad.

First I’m going to give context. Sunday night I got into bed at 9ish, and stayed in bed trying to rest my head. It would not work no matter what I tried, I needed a miracle. It got to around 2 o’clock in the morning and finally I couldn’t even be bothered trying to sleep, so instead, I turned on my tablet and decided to watch a tv series: Teen Wolf, I’d got to the second episode and it the round about time for me to get up for the day. So I woke up, made myself a coffee and I sat down and read for a little bit. Little did I know the first half of this day was about to slip down a steep, disastrous landslide. So I went about my morning routine, showered, dressed etc.

On Monday mornings we have assemblies, boring, repetitive useless, half-arsed¬†assemblies. I’d already predicted it was going to be about mental health. (this is what the screenshots are) So by this point, I knew what to expect, and knew that I would get seriously worked up and raged if the assembly were to be about Mental Health.

Or so I thought. In reality, it went nothing like I expected it to, it obliterated itself out of proportion, to say the least. It all started with a picture of a black-and-white picture of a man who had pieces¬†falling from his head (similar to the provided picture) and I genuinely didn’t get the connection to mental health.

THEN SHE MUTTERED THE WORDS “MENTAL HEALTH”. At that moment time stopped and my world started spinning.¬†At first my blood was boiling with rage, I had to bite my tongue and everything to stop myself from walking out or shouting, then that caused me to have a panic attack, then she talked about depression’ and anxiety so it got worse, then she showed this video which was super graphics and I was like fuck this and soon enough my anxiety attack level was 90000/10. Then they told us about a 13-year-old commuting suicide and the six former and I just balled nonstop I was shaking so bad and just squashing my body as much as I can you know because it was that bad? Not had one that had ever. It didn’t help me at all not sleeping last night and the shitty 2 weeks we’ve had. When I stood up I was slurring and everything and I had to get Alysha to walk me to English because my legs were honestly going to collapse.¬†It wasn’t graphic in the video it was just him sitting down with a voice over but it was honestly 300% accurate and for me to feel that in that moment anyway but have 250 others at least hear about it from him whilst on that very second it happened to me I felt so alone and trapped because it was just unbelievably accurate and I was just in the middle of it all. It felt like somebody just bled my soul dry of any secrets and in that moment I felt so unbelievably vulnerable and I couldn’t¬†handle it. Not only was I trapped in my had, I was trapped and sandwiched¬†between 2 people, between 2 rows of chairs and in a hall full of people. What do I do? Do I get up and leave, and draw attention to myself? Or do I stay and face this trauma? I checked my watch over and over again and I silently begged the woman to just shut up and change the subject, I pleaded and pleaded for her to stop, my these thoughts to stop and for the trouble to just stop right then, right there. It wouldn’t. It was like waking up from a nightmare but still living that nightmare semi-consciously. Every single word caused 50 trains of thoughts inside my head, and every word made me flinch, and with each sentence, another tear slipped out my eyes. I was trapped, and I was helpless.

Eventually, when it had all stopped and it was time to leave, I stood up. But I had to literally battle with my legs to keep holding me up, I felt them buckling under me and the tears just continued to slip. I went outside hoping for the life of me that I would find a friend to walk with because I knew that I couldn’t walk by myself in that very moment. I knew I literally could not do it! By this point, my assault was running at 20 minutes long, and further continued for another 10 minutes after I had got to English.

I hand on my heart have never felt it this bad! Not even my 1st panic/anxiety attack felt this bad.


The Worst thing about….

The worst thing about depression for me is how after 3 years I adapted. I adapted to the unhappiness, loneliness, low self-esteem, suicidal thoughts and the pull to self-harm.¬† I adapted. I got used to the feelings of depression and deep loathing that it felt like my world had tipped when it eventually disappeared. I became addicted to the self-loathing, so it continued even after the depression had gone. I was happy, but I wasn’t really, it was a lie, a lie to myself, a lie to those around me, whoever spectated my trauma. And even when I didn’t feel like cutting myself because I was feeling either sadness or self-loathing, or I wasn’t feeling anything at all, I still wanted to cut myself because I missed the adrenaline and similarly the euphoria the pain gave me. Even on my happiest days I can have suicidal thoughts or feel the need to self-harm, even when there’s never any reason (just to clarify).

Depression for me was an addiction and anxiety became second nature.
95% of the time I don’t notice, when I’m having an anxiety attack, however on the rare occasion that it is noticeable I leave it to pan out, I let it settle along side me until its had it’s fun, sometimes we even play a game of poker. It’s fun, it really is, that’s the beauty of anxiety. It magnifies every thought and feeling you hold, keeps it hostage and opens the gate for the battalion at most unsuspecting times, leaving a field of shed blood amongst the fields of your mind. As much as I hate to say it, anxiety does often have its benefits: When I’m happy it can be euphoric, I feel the happiness like nothing else, each and every time I feel that great happiness it feels like the first time all over again. It makes me emotional, but a happy emotional. In that moment I learn something new, I learn to be thankful, and forgiving, I learn the beauty of the world that’s before my eyes, and I see new sides to people I’d never thought I’d see. All in the space of my own, and in my own time and that beauty belongs to me, and me only. It captivates me.

I’ve probably said it time and time again but I diagnosed myself with anxiety and depression in year 8; at the time I was 13. That’s the saddest thing about it for me, not just for me anyway. There are thousands of people out there and I’m guessing 50% of these thousands who suffer were diagnosed at a young age and lots even diagnosed before the age of 13. That is no life to live! or CHILDHOOD for crying out loud!¬†That’s what hurts and upsets me the most, I wouldn’t be so heartbroken if I was the only person in the world who suffered, it’s the knowledge that somebody out there is suffering just like me, but only that I can’t help in the slightest. It’s living it all again, the past years in those few small seconds, knowing somebody else is feeling the same and that even though for me it is the past, this person feels it right now in that second.