Gum on My Shoe

This article was inspired by conversations with friends and colleagues, including Aimee Wilson of I’m NOT Disordered who recently shared on social media that she was a day away from celebrating one year free of self-harm. In addition to talking with Aimee about her achievement, in the past week I’ve spoken to two people beginning their respective journeys to shed unhealthy dependencies. One is working to break an addiction to sugar and unhealthy food. The other is determined to give up alcohol and nicotine. Despite very different situations and experiences, certain themes kept coming up, which I want to explore in this article. I should state up front that I have no first-hand experience of self-harm or addiction. My perspective is that of a caring and concerned outsider. What Is Self-Harm and Is It Addictive? Self-harm can take many forms. In the words of UK mental health charity Mind , “[s]elf-harm is when you hurt yourself as a way of dealing with very difficult feelings, ...

By Peter McDonnell As on most weekends, today I was out and about visiting nearby open gardens run by The National Garden Scheme . My mum and I park the car after the usual drive through villages of thatched cottages, village halls, churches and well-kept lawns. During lockdown the large properties that host the gardens are not busy and we are often treated to a personal tour by the owners. You can see how happy they are sharing stories old and new about how their gardens came to be. You can pick out the differences of the owners’ individual spots of fondness, occasionally accompanied by a comment of slight aversion to their spouse’s decision to place some quirky item amongst the otherwise perfect design! We walk around for about an hour, my mum teaching me the names and attributes of flowers. This is where I get my photography done. Most of the roses are past their best now that it is August, but I’ve taken many photographs of my favourite flower over the last two months. ...

By Daniel Wittler We are in the midst of a very difficult time. Covid-19 has taken away many of the luxuries we have in life and have taken for granted. Of course, many of these things are materialistic and possible to live without. There are certain groups of people that are being much more affected than most. I can’t tell you how many times a day I wonder how people in early recovery are doing while this is going on. I think about myself in early recovery and there were days where the biggest thing I needed was to go to a meeting and talk to somebody about the giant funk I was in that day and what I could do about it. There is a lot of power in simply talking to one another in recovery. Someone in early recovery feeling trapped and stuck from the outside world is a terrifying thought. Thankfully, with all of the advances of technology we are not truly alone. We are able to connect with our friends and family through internet/webcam services. Sure it’s not the same as being w...

By Kailey Fitzgerald Being in recovery from drug addiction and having a mental illness concurrently can be extremely mentally taxing. On my off days, when I am not keeping up with my daily routines and neglect my self-care mechanisms, my life can seem chaotic and unmanageable. I often say it feels like I am just constantly putting out one fire after another. On the other hand, when I do manage my dual diagnosis well, I am truly happy. Finding coping mechanisms and a healthy daily routine that worked for me took a lot of time and effort through trial and error. What may work for one person, may not work for another. It wasn’t until I went to an addiction treatment center and began true, honest, and rigorous therapy that I finally found what worked for me. Go to Therapy Regularly Going to therapy and giving it a real, honest shot is what saved my life. For years I was repulsed by laying down on some brown over-sized couch and telling some stranger with a medical degree all o...

By Maya Kelley My childhood was not an easy one, despite my mother’s efforts to keep me safe. I grew up in a loving home, was provided with everything I needed, and was exceptionally bright from an early age. Even with being provided the best foundation I could have to excel in life, I turned down a path of self-destruction. I was filled with hatred for myself, mistrust towards others, and a general apathetic outlook towards life. Early Childhood Trauma At around the age of seven, I was mauled by my family dog. I slipped and fell, let out a high-pitched scream, and the dog’s prey drive must have kicked in. This incident left me nearly dead, with scars all over my face and neck. I was happy while I was in the hospital; I got to participate in arts and crafts while I recovered with my loved ones around me. Once I went back to school, the kids were not as welcoming. I was bullied for the scars on my face which left me with extremely low self-esteem at a young and impressionabl...

It’s been quite a week, one way or another. At times I’ve been as low and despairing as I have in months; at others I’ve felt grounded and whole. Here are ten things I’ve learned about myself in the process. Maybe some of them will resonate with you too. 1. Things Are Shitty Sometimes It’s rare for me to feel so low, stressed, or overwhelmed that it interferes with my day-to-day life. Mostly I move through upsets and difficulties fairly smoothly. But sometimes even my tried and tested strategies for making it through bad days fail me. The best thing I can do then is accept I’m struggling. That’s not easy, because my life is generally stable and secure. I have a home, a family, a job, financial security, amazing friends, and decent health. What is there for me to feel overwhelmed by, anxious or low about? I’m aware of the danger such thinking presents, however. “I’ve no right to be struggling” stops people seeking the help they might need. So yes, my life gets shitty too someti...

By Kailey Fitzgerald Growing up, I always felt like I didn’t fit in; I felt like I was a little off when compared to my peers. I had this terrible and seemingly constant feeling in the pit of my stomach when I would try to talk to other kids, and a ringing voice in my head that told me I wasn’t good enough. When I would accomplish something, I would find the reasons that it didn’t amount to anything and head down on a path of self-destruction. Everything appeared perfect from the outside, but from the inside, I was absolutely falling apart. I managed to maintain until I was around twelve years old. I started to have violent emotional outbursts that I couldn’t seem to control, and it began to affect my relationship with my mom. She noticed that I wasn’t behaving normally and decided to send me to a psychiatrist. At first, when I was diagnosed with Intermittent explosive disorder and social anxiety I thought my whole life was over. I was only twelve years old and society had led...

By Cassidy Webb In recovery I see a lot of people go in and out. Unfortunately, not everyone makes it back. I’ve lost a lot of friends to addiction and I’ve watched even more of them struggle with their mental health. I’ve watched mental illness take over the minds of good people to the point where it drives them back to the needle or the bar. When it’s somebody close to me, I just want to shake them. I want to shake the misery, the despair, and the fear right out of them. I want them to get well. I want them to get the help that they deserve. However, I can’t do that. I’m not that powerful. Growing up I was told to sit quietly and look pretty. Sharing my emotions was frowned upon, and when I did, I felt judged. I felt like the outcast whom nobody understood. I became a master at shoving my emotions down until they became too much to bear. I would then break down in major depressive episodes. As a teenager, I found solace in drugs and alcohol. I didn’t have to feel anything except...

Photo: Vikki Beat In the latest of our Bloggers’ Days Out, fellow mental health blogger Aimee Wilson and I attended Stranger on the Bridge and Other Stories of Friendship and Support at George Street Social in Newcastle. George Street Social is an alcohol-free bar and café run by the Road to Recovery Trust which offers hope and support to people in recovery from addiction problems. We were among the first to arrive and were greeted warmly by Lucy Nichol who I first met last year at the launch of her book A Series of Unfortunate Stereotypes . Lucy is a trustee and marketing and communications lead for the Road to Recovery Trust, and chaired the event. Photo: Martin Baker The first to speak was Paula Cowie who is also a Road to Recovery trustee. Paula shared her lived experience and how important the Trust and George Street Social are to the local community. Matthew Smith from the If U Care Share Foundation went next. He spoke with great honesty and openness about his old...

By Charlotte Underwood I hate my body. I just do. I can remember looking into the mirror and hating my body as a child. Even as a teenager, I hated it. As an adult, still not a fan. I’ve been so many different weights, my body’s changed with age. I’ve worked out, dyed my hair, got tattoos and piercings. But nothing makes me happy. The thing is, self love is more than a mirror. It’s deeper. Self love is mental. When you judge someone for their appearance, they remember it. When you call someone fat, they feel it. When you break someone’s confidence, they know it. My low self-esteem comes from years of being called ‘fat’, ‘obese’, ‘ugly’ and ‘unlovable’, all by people I trusted. I actually didn’t hate how I looked, until someone told me where to look. That’s important to remember, this whole epidemic of people wanting to change how they look, doing diets, hurting their body’s to be ‘perfect’... is because we created it. We made that. We made people feel this way. So I don’t c...

By Aimee Wilson   When she fought, he won When she stole, he caught her When she looked, he hid When she bent, he broke her When she hurt, he caused it When she ran, he gave chase When she saw, he missed it When she heard, he ignored   But when she died, they revived her When she cut, they mended When she swallowed, they treat When she cried, they soothed When she ran, they caught When she lost hope, they showed her the way   She won back what he’d taken She mended what he had broke She stabilized what he had moved She finished what he had started She lived     About the Author Aimee Wilson is a 28-year-old mental health blogger who has used her personal experiences to develop a popular online profile. Aimee was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder in 2009, and after over 60 attempts on her life was admitted to a long-term, specialist psychiatric hospital almost 200 miles from home. It was during her two-and-a-half-year stay in ho...