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

Wearing a dark-blue and white checked flannel shirt with blue jeans, suede boots and her shoulder-length curly hair bouncing as she sat down for our interview, Joanne’s bubbly attitude is mildly infectious. In a cheerful start to the conversation, she begins by expanding on how her day was, fidgeting and swinging on her chair.

Possibly nervous, or out of habit, Joanne kept her replies quite brief, brushing over some topics. So when I asked what she had been (self-) diagnosed with, I was unsure of how much she would reveal to me.  She began: “depression and a few other things that maybe spun out of depression, so as a result of that self-harm and stuff around that really” was her abrupt reply to my question. I probed further.

“I would say my worst experience with depression was probably February. When I knew I felt ok it was probably mid-September…I felt like it wasn’t as much of a burden waking up every day. I kind of knew that I had enough to approach each day whereas before I didn’t feel that way, or less so perhaps.” Continue reading

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A Letter [7DTH]

As I sit writing in this dimly lit room, it is only fitting I call this blog post A Letter. This is a letter to my past and present, a letter to all those I have loved and hurt. This is a letter to myself.

Close to three weeks ago, nauseous, light-headed, weak and trembling, I stumbled off of my train from London to Coventry. Millions of thoughts crossed my mind; still my focus was on getting home as quickly as possible, ensuring no one would see me in such a state. As I mumbled to the cab driver my address, I looked at my reflection from my phone screen, unsure of who to call. No. I had no one to call. My first anxiety attack … and I had no one to call. Well, it’s not that I had no one to call; my pride just stopped me from admitting how weak I could be. I fell victim to my own inadequacy.
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