Depression & me

So this one is going to be just about me. What it’s like to live in my head. 

I may be happy, I may have a smile on my face, I may be laughing and joking, but inside I’m breaking down every little thing and criticising everything I’ve said. 

Someone may say to me “oh I like your hair” my reply would be “thanks.” Do I believe it? No. In my head that’s turned to, I don’t like your hair, I don’t like you, go away. 

I criticise everything I say. Should I of said that? Did I offend them? Did they take it the wrong way? That’s all part of the anxiety. 

The worst part is when the depression kicks in aswell. 

So yesterday was a bad day for me. The day before I had 2 panic attacks whilst at work. They literally zapped every bit of energy I had in my body, to the point I couldn’t even lift my arms. I sat there in a lay by, tears rolling down my cheeks, not knowing why I’m even panicking. I instantly rang my boyfriend who calmed me down, he spoke to me, told me everything was going to be okay. But in relality i felt I was never going to be okay. I thought I was going to die. I felt like a belt was tightening around my chest. Someone was tightening it to the point I couldn’t breathe. Then it just stopped. The shakes started, the tears kept rolling, I felt sick. I needed to carry on at work. People depend on me. I tried my hardest to put on a brave face in front of clients but when you can’t even raise your arms or even have the energy to talk it’s bloody hard work. 

Anyway the day after I started work. Still feeling drained and had little sleep I carried on. At 3:00 I finished work and got straight into bed. I didn’t get out untill the yesterday evening. That’s s long time to be sitting in bed with only your thoughts. I didn’t want to speak to anyone. I just wanted to be alone. I forced myself to get dressed but ended up right back where I started, in bed. I hadn’t eaten all day. My stomach was churning I needed food. I finally found an ounce of energy to go downstairs and make something to eat. Downstairs was my boyfriends nephew, he’s 5 or 6 years old. He bounced to me and gave me a cuddle and a kiss and if anyone reads this that knows him he said “I love you one”  which instantly cheered me up. But once again I ended up in bed. That day I thought about self harm. I felt I needed a release, I needed to let these feelings out and in my head the only way was though harming myself. I didn’t. It’s a weird feeling needing to self harm, you feel that cutting yourself and running a blade over your skin till they pour blood will solve it, the feelings suddenly disappear. It’s asif all your problems leave with every drop of blood. I reminded myself I’m strong. I don’t need to do this anymore. I keep a bobble on my arm and twang myself with it whenever I get the urge. It helps a lot and I’m so happy that I didn’t harm myself. At points when I feel like I need to, I think about me in a bikini in front of my family and them asking about the scars. I got asked that whilst i was on holiday. I lied because it was easier than telling the truth. It makes me feel ashamed that I was so low that that felt was the only option to let my feelings out. I haven’t self harmed for about 2 months now and I’m proud of myself!! 

So here I am, once again. Laid in bed writing this but today I accomplished something. I got up. I smiled. I got a shower and got ready for work. I ate. And went to work. I argued with my “sperm doner”  and I said everything I needed to say. I feel like that chapter of my life has finally closed. I feel like a weight has been lifted. I feel liberated that i finally spoke my mind, that I finally stood up for myself. That is something I’ve never done before. 

I just want to say, these feelings of self doubt and depressed won’t last forever: these feeling is only temporary. Keep a smile on your face permanently. 

 If you smile, the whole world smiles with you. 

Thanks for reading. 

Jade xox 



This one may be a long one so you might want to get a cuppa before I start… 
I started this blog just to open up and talk about my life because I find it easier typing my feelings than saying them out loud. So I’ll start from the beginning. 

I was born on the 28th of January 1995, it was deep snow from what I’ve been told. My parents were still together and everything was great. Until I was a few weeks old my mum found out my dad was a heroin addict, he was arrested for shop lifting and they spilt up. My mum didn’t want me to have anything to do with my dad which is understandable but my Nanna and grandad always told me he’s my dad and I need to have a relationship with him. How wrong was they. 

So my dad got out of prison, my mum moved into a flat with me, and everything was good. Untill my dad started back on the drugs. He got one of his friends to break into our flat. My mum pushed a table in front of the bedroom door where she was feeding me as she knew there was someone in the living room. He didn’t take anything he just wanted to scare her. It sends shivers down my spine just thinking about it. 

So my relationship with my dad, he was in and out of jail, I still visited every Thursday without fail. And every Thursday he was smacked out of his head and drinking can after can of alcohol. At that age I didn’t know what I know now. Everything was kept a secret from me till I was old enough to make my own decisions. 

I don’t have a lot of memories with my dad. My councillor says I’ve blocked them out. I do remember him looking after me when I was very young and him passed out in the chair whilst I was sat in my high chair screaming for my dad. I remember all the times we went to the shop and he embarrassed me, not been able to walk straight, shouting abuse to people he didn’t know. I just wanted to crawl under a rock. 

So the time came when my mum told me about everything that had happened in the past. I was old enough to make my decision on weather i wanted to still see him or not. I chose not. 

He then started calling me every hour of the day. Shouting abuse down the phone, threatening me, threatening my mum. I got text after text saying “I’m going to kill your mum today. I’m going to come into her shop and stab her” i wouldn’t leave my mums side. At this point I hadn’t seen him in a while. We reported it to the police but nothing happened. 

A few years later the abuse started again. I was with my boyfriend and he was ringing me, “I’ve only a few months left to live” I’d heard that one many of times so I didn’t believe it. I’d had enough. I’d had enough of the threats, the emotional blackmail, the times he tried turning my against my mum. So me and my boyfriend went to his house. I wanted to sit down and talk like adults and get everything out in the open. Only I got there, he’d locked the gate and came out shouting abuse at me. Shouting abuse at my boyfriend who was sat in the car further up the street. He couldn’t even walk straight never mind see. He was paralytic. 

I went home in tears to my mum. I’d had enough. I’d snapped. We went to the police and I got a restraining order out on him, he wasn’t aloud to message me, call me or be within 100 yards from me. I told the police about him drugs and how I had found some stashed away. They went to give him the restraining order form to sign to agree with the terms. Only for him then to turn aggressive, he rang me. To this day I’ll never know how he dialed my number whilst been arrested and shouting abuse at me. He wouldn’t sign the forms so he got arrested. They found nothing in his house, no drugs no nothing. That was the last I heard from him in a while. 

A few years later, me and my boyfriend had just had the good news that we had been accepted for a rented house. We was so happy. But then my world came crashing down. I had a phone call from my cousin. “Your dad’s in hospital, he’s on life support and the doctors say he’s not going to make it” I instantly rushed to the hospital before it was too late. I wanted to say everything to him that I’ve wanted to say for so many years. Although when I got there and saw him hooked up to machines and pipes coming out of every orifice I broke down. I couldn’t say anything. I just stood there and watched him. 

A few days later he got transfered to another ward in hospital. He’d made a full recovery. I went to see him and honestly, he was everything I’d wanted. He asked questions he wanted to know about my life, he seemed like the dad I’ve always wanted. I gave him a card with my number on and told him to call when he gets out of hospital and we can meet up. 

That was 3 years ago. I’ve not heard from him since. I’ve been stood in front of him in a shop and he’s not known who I am. He’s bumped into me but not known me. This makes me feel sad / angry but I know my life is better without him in it. He’s back on the beer and drugs. 

So here I am now. I’ve got an amazing step dad. He’s absolutely brilliant and has raised me as his own since i was 4 years old. I couldn’t ask for anyone better. My mum is just amazing. Everything she had to deal with to keep me safe I can never repay her for that. I love them endless amounts. My partner who I can’t imagaine my life without is so supportive and been there through thick and thin. 

I just want to say I’ve come to realise now, typing this that my ‘dad’ isn’t worth my time or energy. If he wanted me to be part of his life he would of accepted the help I tried giving him. He would of rang me when he got out of hospital. He would of done everything in his power to see me, I guess the drink and drugs won. 

I’m so thankful for the support network I have. I may of got things a little mixed up writing this but my memory isn’t clear of times I spent with my dad or things that happened. They may be in the wrong order or slightly mixed up but as I said my councillor has said I blocked a lot of things out in my past. 

So there we have it. I hope I didn’t bore you too much. And if you made it to the end give yourself a pat on the back! 

Thanks for reading. 

Jade oxo

My life now.

As I said I’m 22 years old. I’ve been with my boyfriend for 5 years nearly. He’s the most kind and caring man, he understands me. He knows when I’m happy, he knows what I’m about to say before I even say it. He’s my soul mate. We’ve known each other all our lives, we used to be very good friends, I think one of the first times I met him was at my dads. He came to meet me in the carpark next to my dad’s house. With his long hair lip piercing he looked so good! We had a cheeky kiss but we were too young to pursue anything. So years later we reconnected and the rest is history. 

He’s my soul mate and understands me better than I understand myself. He’s helped me through the dark times in my life, he’s held my hand and told me everything is going to be ok. He’s been there when I’ve had panic attacks, he’s sat at the side of me for hours waiting for the attack to end. He held my hand and told me how much he loves me.  

Anyway enough of the soppy stuff. Basically what I’m trying to say is that without him I wouldn’t be here now. He saved me, he saved me from myself. And for that I can’t thank him enough. 

Since being diagnosed with depression and anxiety I’ve had great support. My family understand what depression is and have always been there if I need to talk to them but I don’t want to burden them with my silly thoughts.  So that’s when I turn to my boyfriend or my councillor. I haven’t seen her in a while because I felt I was getting better. It’s only when everything comes crashing down and the panic attacks start again that you realise how easy it is to talk to a stranger and how much it helps. 

Anyway, abit of a soppy one but I’ve had a bad day and writing happy things about my other half makes my day just that bit more bareable. 

Thanks for reading 

Jade xox

Depression & Dad 

So as I said in my other post I’ve suffered with depression most of my life. Since I can remember I’ve always thought bad about everything, I just thought that way of thinking was normal. 

When i was very young my mum and dad split up. thank god! 

I used to go and see him every Thursday. He wasn’t the best dad, he used to drink can after can of special brew, smoke weed and be absolutely out of it when I was with him. At that age I didn’t realise how much it affected me I just thought it was normal. I remember one time, I was around 10 years old. I had been dropped off at his house, he instantly started drinking his cans, he bribed me to go to the shop with him, giving me £1 to get some sweets but in reality he only wanted to get me to go so he could buy some beer and cigs. We went back to his mums and he got so paralytic he passed out on the sofa. I remember pushing my fingers to his neck to check he still had a pulse. What 10 year old should have to do that for their dad, who’s suppose to be looking after you! 

After telling my mum when I got home everything that had happened she sat me down and told me everything else..

I remember he saying, “your dad’s not a nice man” and the first thing I asked her was “had he ever hit you?!” The answer was no, thank god! 

He had a drug addiction, he was addicted to heroin. Basically he choice heroin over me. His child. His flesh and blood. Over shooting up in a bedroom with his mates. Unluckily for him the batches of heroin and weed gave him a blood clot in his leg and left him blind in one eye. That’s when the blackmail started.. 

I was coming home from school one day and got a call from my dad. He never rung unless he wanted something. “I’ve been to the doctor and they’ve given me six months to live” I didn’t know how to react. I put the phone down and told my mum. She’d heard it all before so didn’t believe it, she was right. It was all a lie. 

I think this was where my depression started. Having to look after my dad whenever I was there. Being told bad things about my mum that weren’t true, just every little thing used to get to me. I remember sitting in my bedroom and just crying at the littlest things, if someone had said something to me and I took it the wrong way, if i couldn’t do something, i felt like the world was against me. 

This is the second blog. This was mainly about my past with my ‘dad’ and how my depression started. 

Thanks for reading. 

Jade oxo


After thinking about writing a blog for quite a while I thought I would take the plunge and do it! 

This blog will basically be about me, my life, past and present. My mental illness and everything inbetween. 

So abit about me. I’m 22 years old. I’ve got the most amazing boyfriend and family and friends. I work as a carer in the community looking after elderly people. It’s hard work but so so worth it. We are currently renovating our house, and hope to be in it in the next few months. Sounds like a perfect life doesn’t it? 

It’s far from, well in my head it is. 

I’ve suffered from depression for many years, since I can remember I’ve never really felt good enough. I’ve recently been given antidepressants to try and help with this. 

That is it for my first post, just a little about me. My next post will be about how my depression started and my past. 

Thanks for reading.