Series I: The Woman, The Black, & The Mental

Compassionate, considerate and creative, Debbie has one of the most genuine souls I have encountered. She emits a gentle warmth, a beautiful dark-orange air being the best description of her aura. Maybe not as uplifting as the morning sunrise, but calming and soothing like the sunset. Full of emotion, which has at times proved detrimental, Debbie has grown considerably over the years whilst keeping many of her distinct characteristics, showing that she has and will always remain true to her foundations. Admirably, she has been able to adapt to the battles she has been thrown into. Dodging destructive friendships, weathering the storm of a heart-break, and emerging victorious from her war with depression, anxiety and self-harm, her past has made her strong enough to deal with her future.

It’s been two years since Debbie last self-harmed. Although she still has bouts of depression, her experience over the years means she is now able to accommodate for moments of extended melancholia, coping with it in ways she feels most comfortable. Most recently she has been slowly slipping back into depression after returning from an exciting journey in what was once known as the land of the flowers, off the Gulf of Mexico. Not being able to pinpoint why she has been feeling down, she has decided to just let it pass, speaking only to her boyfriend about how she feels.  Continue reading

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Lost Love [7DTH]

As she whispered sweet nothings in my ear, I realised that’s exactly what it was. Nothing. There was no love, no commit, no lust. Just a couple, lost in transition.

From loneliness to false romance, her insecurities were wrapped in empty promises and pain-filled yesterday’s. Anxiety being her only friend, and depression her father; there was no messiah for this fallen angel.

As we had a discussion on a past she no longer remembered, where overthinking was a way to pass time, till time passed us, and soon it was too late – too late for the future she dreamt of as a child, she realised she was living in the shadow of her wishes.

I wish we didn’t live in should’ve beens and could’ve beens. Alas, those lost words fell on deaf ears. But maybe these words can save you. Pick up the rose young child, and keep dreaming. It’s not over.