I’ve been thinking about happiness alot. I have moments where I am happy, for example when Ali will voluntarily be nice to Roo or when we where in Edinburgh for our anniversary last week.
But I can’t remember the last time I was truly happy. You know, not a care in the world kind of happy.
To come back to my metaphor, I feel like the British weather, always overcast with some big storms and the occasional sunny day. But I just wonder when my heatwave will come?I stopped my meds voluntarily last week. They werent working anyway so after 2 days of forgetting them, I decided just to not take any more.
I have an appointment with my shrink at the end if the month but I’m not going to see her. After putting in a complaint about her, I don’t want to sit in a room with her!!!
I still feel like the nhs have let me down. I get loads of promises of things gonna happen then I never hear from them. I’m not strong enough to call these people up n bitch tho.
I’m just so fed up and don’t know where to turn or what to do. I’ve had to lock down my blog because of a backstabbing bitch. My family have their own issues and my friends never have time. So it’s just me and the 2 boys. Not exactly great when you feel like shit!
I just want to sleep. I could happily stay asleep forever. Yeah I’ve got crap dreams, but atleast there’s no money or housework in my dreams.
On that thought, I’m gonna try get some sleep now. We’ll see how well that goes!

Privacy at last!

After what happened last week I have now changed my privacy settings on my blog.
It is now friends only.
So if anything ever happens again, I’ll have a better understanding of who it is. Not that I ever suspected a friend.

This is the end my friends

Unfortunately I’m gonna have to close my blog.

Some horrible person has decided to report me to social services saying they are worried about my sons

This isn’t the first time people have stuck their nose in where it isn’t wanted.

I have a few ideas of who has done it and mark my words, you are a coward.
Leaving details anonymously.

You obviously don’t care about me or my family.

If you did you would have contacted one if us.

My blog was my outlet, something that helped. Instead I’m gonna have to stop and go back to suffering in silence.

So thank u so much you piece of shit.

My sons are my world. I almost died bringing them into the world. So to think I’d harm them is unthinkable.

Oh yeah, and I know it was someone who knows us personally enough to know my address as that’s what was given to the authorities.

Thank u followers for your help and support. I hope we can speak again x

A cutters story

Cutting and self harm has been mentioned alot recently online. I thought I would share my story.

Please note, this post contains details of self harm and depression.

I started cutting when I was a teenager. I can’t even remember when or even why.
I was bullied alot. Often by my friends. I’d become close with someone and then it was almost like they would get fed up of me and would basically just ditch me. But they would then start turning nasty on me and alienate me from my friends. This started in primary school. Every second year I’d have to start again. I tried being myself and it didn’t work. I tried being who I thought others wanted me to be and again it didn’t work.
I started going out with a boy when I was 14. But he hadn’t kissed or been with anyone else so every few months he would split with me to ‘sew his wild oats’. He would ask out my friends then when they would turn him down he would come back to me and because I was so lonely I would always take him back.
He did this to me so many times that I believed I was worthless. I know that during this relationship I cut. I would use my razor on my wrists. I would cut till I bled as it felt like my troubles were pouring out. I was able to cover it with a wrist support that I was able to tell people was needed for me playing badminton at school.
At the end of my fifth year at high school he went on holiday and met another girl he wanted to be with. So again he left me and didn’t care. That was the last time we split.

That was also when my life totally changed.

I took an overdose of cocodamol that I found in the house. They were huge 500mg tablets for my mum and I remember taking about 20 before my body started rejecting them and I started sneezing. Partially digested tablets were coming out and I couldn’t take anymore I was sneezing so violently. I called my sister who called my mum who came home and took me to a&e. As I was still conscious I was made to drink charcoal for 5 hours. This is 4 hours after it’d be effective.
I had to come back the next day to see a shrink.
She wanted to see me again.
I went back 2 weeks later and when I asked her if I could continue to see someone she promised to contact me with details of support groups. She never did.
I decided instead of having to face my ex for my last year of school, to go to uni a year early.

So I moved to Edinburgh.

I met up with who I thought was a nice guy during my freshers week. I said I didn’t want things to go quickly. But he was a giant in comparison to me and…
He forced himself on me.

He didn’t use protection either.

He did it again before he left me in my room.

That night I lay in bed crying my eyes out as I burned internally. I was totally alone in halls. No friends to call as they where all in school. I didn’t know what to do. So I cut to take away the shame of what had happened.
At last I was in control.
I was able to decide how much I hurt instead of someone else doing it to me.

I met another boy at the end of the week and we fell into a relationship. We where together for 3 years.
I struggled with my feelings of being bisexual. My boyfriend didn’t understand. He made me feel guilty about it.
I also started on the pill, but the first one I was on gave me awful migraines, so I was put onto another type. This sent me into an awful depressive spiral.
Obviously I came off the pill, but it left the depression in me.

I lost my gran then. She was my best friend and I struggled with the loss. I still struggle now almost 10 years on. I started smoking and drinking and was on a self destruction route. My best friend picked me up on this and didn’t want to see me hurt. So instead I turned to the blade.
Instead of my razor blade, I used a steak knife. Instead of just my wrists, I went all the way up my forearms.
The release felt good.I would cut as soon as my scars would start to heal. I didn’t feel comfortable without their sting.

My boyfriend couldn’t cope with my sexuality so I left him. I was threatened by my best friends ex girlfriend too. She tried to attack me in the street. So I went back home and cut again.

My best friend then became my boyfriend. Who became my fiance, husband and father of my sons.

He understands my need to self harm. He knows all of my past and tried to help me survive my future.

I still have the urge to cut.

Today, my eldest was really hurting me physically whilst I was feeding my youngest and I got so angry and upset. I wanted to throw him to the floor and hurt him. When I realised that my pnd was taking me there, I instead decided to take out my anger on myself. I held the blade in my hand, but felt guilty leaving the boys on their own, I put it down instead.

I tried to seek advice from friends, but felt I got abuse from one. This didn’t help. Strangely enough, a friend I only know online helped me. She showed me some support and she probably doesn’t even know, but her little reply on Facebook stopped me from doing some real harm to myself.

I’ve been cheated on by those I love, lied to, excluded from and by family that I am a shell of a person now.
I’m on medication that doesn’t work, I see a shrink who doesn’t care and anytime I seek help from the nhs, they never follow through and I’m left chasing people.

I have struggled with depression, also pre and postnatal depression and ptsd for over 13 years and I can’t ever now see a time when I won’t feel this way. Over half my life I have self harmed and I can’t see another way.

What I will say though, is that I lash out at people. I know I do. But it’s not on purpose. I have anger inside and it either comes out in aggression or it is taken out on my arms. I apologise to people I shout at. I don’t mean to, but it does mean I haven’t picked up a blade.

If you’re a self harmer, please know you are not alone. If you are not, then just think about what hides behind the smile.

Breastfeeding awareness week – my 2 cents

This week is breastfeeding awareness week. There has been alot of tweets, posts and blogs all about it, but there has also been the opposite. The parents who feel like they are being made out as failures for not breastfeeding.

The biggest thing everyone says is that ‘it’s natural and easy’ but to any mum who cannot feed herself, it feels like a slap in the face. To alot of us, it was not easy. And if you’ve struggled you then assume you are not natural!

Let me tell you my stories-

Born at 29+1 weeks and weighing in at 989g Ali was very weak. A breastfeeding advisor comes to me within 24hours and tells me I should express. I try and it’s hard. Very hard. Eventually it works and he is fed very small amounts through his ng tube. After about 2 weeks he is strong enough to be out of his incubator for half an hour at a time. With my advisors help, we manage to get Ali in position but even nuzzling is hard for him. He is exhausted and falls asleep.
For weeks I struggle to express and try Ali on the breast when I can, but the one time he latched on and he got a mouthful he panicked and fell asleep.
My supply starts to dry up and I have to be put on medication to try bring it back. Ali has now used all of the stockpile I’d frozen for him. He is taking more milk than I can supply and to make matters worse, they have to add fortifier to my ebm.
As I’ve been so stressed and unwell I’ve not been able to take care of myself and my milk is crap!
I’m told I have to make a choice because the nurses are going to have to start giving Ali half ebm and half formula feeds as I just don’t have enough supply for him.
After much discussion with my mum, dad, husband, friends and nurses we all decide that letting Ali be formula fed is the best option. He was given a bottle of a special low-weight and early baby formula and he takes to it straight away. He actually starts to put on weight and alot of stress is taken away from me. I can actually start to spend my time taking care of my son instead of having to go into a room for an hour at a time to pump!
Because he is feeding ok on the bottle and has put weight on, after 9 weeks, Ali is discharged. This is still the happiest day ofy life!
Ali stayed on bottles of prem formula until he was about 12 months old when he just decided he didn’t want anymore!

I agree that as women we have evolved to breastfeed, but we have also evolved with the ability to learn. And thanks to the wonderful scientists and doctors and nurses, special prem formula has been made that in my case, was better than breastmilk!

Formula is just as good as breastmilk now and in my opinion, I am pro-choice.
I think that every mum should know all the options but no one should ever feel bad for how they feed their baby, as long as you feed them!

I personally enjoy bottle feeding. I love the freedom it gives me. As everyone knows I suffer from terrible depression, and it is important that every now and then I can get a break. So being able to have my family take the boys for the day or night means I can take care of myself without worrying.

Until I had Ali it was my biggest dream to breastfeed. I will always feel like a failure for not being able to continue but I look at my son now who is 2 months away from his 2nd birthday and I see how far he has come.

I believe that a healthy baby and happy mum are very important. If you want to breastfeed then brilliant! If you want to formula feed, brilliant! There are pros and cons for both but no one is wrong.

There is a group on Facebook called ‘it’s ok not to breastfeed’ and I would urge any guilt ridden mums or dads to head on over and share your story.

If you are struggling or want help or advice with breastfeeding then can I recommend one of my amazing friends who is a breastfeeding advisor and mum of two, Zoë. She has a brilliant blog that is funny and enlightening and has a wealth of breastfeeding advice on it. And if there are any info she doesn’t have, she will be able to direct you to somewhere that will.

Sending my love to all the mummas out there x

When the envy bug turns bad!

First and foremost before I say anything else, I just wanna say I am not having a go at anyone or want people to stop talking to me!

I am very happy and proud of my family and friends, but I don’t know how much more happy news I can take!
I feel like all I hear about are people buying houses, being promoted or going on once in a lifetime extravagant holidays.

We have no money. We are on the equivalent of food stamps (healthy-start vouchers) and not only do we have no expendable income we have nothing in savings. So when we say we have no money, we actually mean it, unlike others who have put so much ib savings they leave nothing!

The last holiday we had was our honeymoon 4 years ago. We where meant to be going away with my parents to York this summer but Chris now has to do training for his new job so he won’t be coming.

I doubt we’ll ever be able to buy a house. No one will give us a mortgage, and we could never save for a deposit.

They latest thing that has set me over the edge was finding out that my dad gets £50ph after tax and that he’s signing an agreement with ‘the Spanish’ for £85ph! I’m struggling for money yet people actually get ridiculous wages like that!!!

So congrats to everyone for working hard and earning lots, but please always think of those who also work very hard but live on the breadline!


I bought ‘I had a black dog’ today. It’s an illustrated true story where a man describes his depression as if it is s dog.

It has helped.

It had made me see that alot of the problems I have are due to the depression. When I lash out, when I feel numb and isolated…it’s not me being a bitch!
I feel like making everyone read it ti justify why I am this way.

If I ever manage to break free from my shadow then I wanna do something to raise awareness of depression.
In some ways I feel like I have a very mild form of locked in syndrome. I am trapped inside myself and cannot push through my shadow to express how I feel.

I have also started noticing the tell tale signs of depression in one of my friends and I don’t know how to approach the subject. No one wants to admit to feeling this way, but you also can’t ‘out’ someone either.

I have another friend who is doing her own part in bringing the sun closer to me. She is running a marathon in order to raise money for a charity that touches my family. She is a brilliant woman and has helped me so much in my struggle with this mental illness.

We have a friends wedding to go to tomorrow. It’s forecast to be bright. I hope the sun can shine down all day to light up the beautiful bride and hide my shadow for a while.

Me and my shadow

Give me a blade, hand me the knife.

I wish there was a way to explain the compulsion to cut. But u can’t. Anyone who has ever self harmed can tell you that 90% of the time cutting isn’t about suicide.
To me, I feel as if I have a ball of black hate, anger and fear inside of me and I must vent it from my being. A self exorcism almost.

On a day to day basis I feel like my depression is my shadow. It changes throughout the day but is always there. It attaches itself to me via an elastic band. When I have my low times, my shadow strangles me. It prevents me from breathing and weighs me down. It enters my lungs and heart and becomes the black ball inside.

My emotions forego all reason and logic and fast track to the conclusion no one asked for.

I become paranoid, guilty, angry, upset and all of this leaves me confused.

My shadow is so heavy that I cannot lift myself up. I simply cling to my bed or curl into a ball and wish for the tears or anger to take me. Anything is better than the numbing confusion.

Depression is a disease. Not laziness. One cannot simply snap out of it.

I sometimes wish I had a broken leg instead. You know how long your sentence is and that in time you will be strong again. Your cast can be decorated and people make adjustments for you in life.
But depression can only be understood by others who know.

Maybe one day I’ll be free from this shadow. Or maybe I should move closer to the sun so my shadow can barely be seen.

In the meantime it follows my every move and mocks me with it’s shear presence.

The things you think when you can’t sleep

Yet again it is me who has woken in the night and is unable to get back to sleep, not either of the boys!
I think I’m afraid to close my eyes and drift off and I think I know why. Ptsd shows it’s ugly head again!

When I was being told that Ali was in danger and he had to be born straight away my mental status changed. I suddenly didn’t care what happened to me as long as they saved the life inside me. I was being stabbed in various places so they could give me steroids, take blood and whatever else they thought was necessary.

I was a complete passenger, even through the rush in the ambulance and surgery prep I just went along with everything. I was already mentally numb.
I didn’t properly realise how serious things where until I was told that there wasn’t enough time to give me a spinal block or epidural and that it would have to be a general.

Having now had a spinal and seeing how quick it took effect, it’s shaken me.

At this point I said my goodbyes.

I didn’t realise that it wasn’t just the baby’s life that was in danger, it was mine too.
He was dying inside me and my body was starting to reject him.

I feel like I should have died there and then and I’m still finding it hard to come to terms with it not happening.

I’m afraid that one of the times I close my eyes that I wont wake up. I’ll never see my loved ones again.

Or there is my other thought, that I’m still under the general and this is all just a random drug induced dream. That I’ll wake up and Ali will be back in the incubator and we have to go through it all again.

So maybe these drugs aren’t working afterall…


I’m tired.

Absolutely exhausted!

Well and truly fed up of certain things.

It’s takes alot for me these days to seek help or advice and I kinda have to work up the courage for things then do them there and then.
So when I go to the effort of applying for jobs with a company I have twice previously worked for abs they don’t even have the decency to get in touch then it pisses me off!
I found out details of a stress relief class locally and bit the bullet to ask for more info, they haven’t replied!
I then found online a perfect service where I could maybe get some more counselling and I email the bloke, only to be told ‘i’m not eligible….put that info on your website then!!!
My new shrink is awful. It took alot of effort to open up to her and tell the truth about things, only for her to sit with my file closed and just decide to up my meds. Even though I’m experiencing almost every single side effect of them! Did I mention she kicked me out after 10 minutes?!
I feel like so many of my friendships are one sided too. I know people have busy lives but I can’t remember the last time one of my friends got in touch with me without me contacting them first.
As my gran used to say, ‘the phone works both ways!’

Just had to get these things off my chest…back to an unhappy Roo I go…!