buzzoole code

Dear Diary – Mental Health Month Guest Post

May is Mental Health month. For me, and many others, every month is Mental Health Month.

I asked my friends to share their stories with all of you, because I believe that the more people who share their stories, the less stigma there will be.

TRIGGER WARNING: This post is going to be very hard to read, even for those who have never suffered from a mental illness. This post contains talk of abuse, cutting, and suicide.

As requested by the writer, I am posting this anonymously. I have made a few grammar edits, but 99% of it is all her.

OCD, body Dysmorphic Disorder, depression and anxiety are not the definition of me!

In a sense I’m a “lucky” one with a known trigger and a known cause for my illnesses but this isn’t always the way.

My story began in 2013 when I met “the love of my life… R”. Things were perfect for the first 6 months. Happy, going out, him showing me off to the world, but then things became “different.” I was being kicked, punched, strangled, verbally, physically and mentally abused. This happened for another year before I grew the courage to inform police; I thought this was the end of the torture but really it was just the beginning.

Next came these mental heath conditions, which slowly creeped up on me, psychiatrists say it’s because of the abuse I received. I kind of lived in a self fulfilling prophesy, I must be that “fat ugly bitch that no one could ever love” right?

I’ve added some diary entries to this, they are real, they are hard for me to read. They show my defeat, my pain, and my hopelessness. I’m now thankfully receiving the correct treatment of therapy and medication – but this wasn’t without a 2 year fight!

So, here goes…


To R…..

I wish you knew the lasting damage you caused. One year on and I’m still laying in my bed in tears.But I hate you and I miss you and I hate myself and I never want you back but I can’t help but miss you. Even after the punches, the slaps, the anger, the strangling¬† and the fear you put in my life, you did something more, you made me feel needed. You gave me hope, you gave me “love” and I know I shouldn’t feel like that because you hurt me, you hurt me physically and emotionally. And still to this day I get anxiety attacks, spouts of depression and loneliness, and I wish you were here. I’ve hurt the people I love most and will never be able to repay them for the pain I’ve put them through.

Never would I have thought that a man who physically hit me, hurt me and broke me inside would be the reason I’m crying because I miss him, I don’t miss that. I miss you making me believe I was loved, because all anyone wants in life is too be loved. And now no one can love me, you’ve done something that men can sense, you’ve got your wish of me never having anyone else, because no one wants me. They use me, they see this vulnerable girl and take advantage. I just want love. I want to be needed. I want to feel safe in my own body. I want to be me again but I can’t. I try so hard but I can’t.

Dear diary…

Today, it was all too much, I took the razor blade and struck it across my thigh, once turned to twice and twice turned to my whole leg. My leg turned into my stomach and then my arms. Why did I wake up in an ambulance? Why am I here? I don’t want things to carry on because he is everywhere! When I close my eyes I see the punches I remember the pain, the verbal hurt! Depression and anxiety flowing into my blood from the day you started your nasty ways, it’s now all too much and I need some help!

Dear diary,

It’s been a week since my last hospital admission due to self harm. I’m back again. This time for attempted suicide, I’ve taken an overdose, cut myself and hidden away from most members of the public. Why did someone have to find me? I can’t physically take this pain anymore.

Dear Diary,

Today my mum and my dad found out what’s happened. They found out I was in a dark hole of depression and anxiety afraid to leave my house in case I bump into my ex. I’ve been told “we’re here just talk” but sometimes that’s difficult. It’s not that easy to just talk? Is it?

Dear world,

Why do I feel so alone when all everyone tells me is that they are there for me? It hurts me that I can’t feel “alive”. It’s started this whirlpool down into nothing; by making me feel worthless and helpless its won his battle. I’m now covered in scars terrified that I will never be able to be loved, I’ve let everyone down. I let everyone down. I wish I could do more but it all seems impossible. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to feel. I’m scared of myself and what I could possibly do. I don’t know why writing in this helps me, but it does. “Write things down and burn them” but I can’t burn these things. I can’t burn my emotions, I can’t burn my brain or how I think. I wish I was the perfect girl you see, happy as can be. But even if I was perfect in every way, would I be happy then? Or is happiness just a facade that someone has made up to get rid of those who don’t believe? I know there’s something bigger, I know there is a light at the end of the tunnel, but why can’t I see it? What did i do wrong to feel this way.

Dear world.

I’m done. I can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry. Goodnight.

Following the last diary entry relating to my mental health, I was admitted to an inpatient mental health unit for help. 2 attempted suicides within 3 months seemed to have made people realize it wasn’t all for “attention”. This is where I began to heal. I’m still miles away from safety and I still get them nasty thoughts that a cut will help. I panic over silly things, I lock the door 10 times over, I obsessively stare at the imperfections pointed out on my body by him, I cry, but now, I also ask for help, I know it’s not the end, and I know I can get through this!

Dear Diary - Mental Health Month Guest Post

You may also like...

1 Response

  1. SC says:

    You’re right. A trigger.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

CommentLuv badge

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.