"I just don't want to talk about it."

We all have those days where we just want to hide under a duvet and watch crappy movies, not make any interaction with the outside world and just mope. And sometimes, after a good day of solid moping, everything feels alright again, and you can see why the birds are singing and the world is spinning.

But what if you can't? What if you spend weeks not wanting to move? What if you feel so terrible about yourself that you can't bring yourself to be more?

So many people on the internet - myself included - talk about depression, about mental health, about experiences, solutions and reasons. I'm going to try and explain to you how I felt when I went through a kind of depressive funk a while back. I feel like a different person than I did then, and even though there are large periods of day to day life that I just can't even remember, large blanks as it were, I still remember how it felt. It did not feel good. It's the worst I've ever felt, and as far as depression goes, I don't think I even scratched the surface.

I don't like to use the 'd' word when I talk about myself. I was never diagnosed with depression and I hope that I never have to be. What happened to me was a mixture of poor self-esteem and medication that went a bit wrong. I lost a friend, and then I lost what felt like my femininity within the space of a couple of years, and those years, that space of time between those two events were filled with confusion and bewilderment at my body, which was just going into a sort of hormonal train-wreck. I am reluctant to say that I was depressed because, even though I have felt terrible about myself, about the world and about everyone around me, and I have felt alienated from everything and apathetic, and at times numb from everything except anger, I have seen people go through worse.

I've since come more to terms with myself, but there are still occasionally those days where I just want to disappear into a little cave and just cry, but it feels more normal than it used to. Much more normal. But the point of this isn't that I came out of the other side feeling better about myself. That took a long time, a change of medication to fix the hormones that made my head feel rubbish, and a good friend that would listen to me when I learned to talk about it.

The worst thing I felt was worthlessness. Around the time that I was diagnosed with PCOS, I began to feel like I wasn't worth the trouble, and like I shouldn't bother trying, and like I shouldn't talk to anyone because it wasn't worth stressing them out about my silly little feelings. I hid it a little too well though. Nobody noticed that I wasn't quite right for a really long time because I had sort of... distanced myself from everyone. I went about it the wrong way, but I'm not the only one who does. I'm not the only one who feels - or felt - like they're worth less than everyone else. I still have issues with myself... I'm not very confident, but the written word helps me a lot. But I only began to feel better about myself when someone helped me to. You should not deal with these things alone. The people who love you will be there no matter what.

If you're on the other end though, if you're one of the people who's worried about someone, make sure you know the person really well. Be able to see through that mask. That's the hardest part I think... then just being there to listen. Showing them you care and they're not worthless. Sometimes "I just don't want to talk about it." is a start. There isn't always a logical reason to feeling awful, that's a big one to understand. It might not make any sense to you, but try and understand that it might to them.

I'm going to stop this here, before it becomes a full essay. Words mean a lot to me and I want to get them right, especially about something like this. People I love, people I care about, have been affected by depression, and it's become something quite close to me... You can never fully understand someone else's feelings, but you can always listen.

As always, thanks for reading.

- AJ

Old Things... and New Things...

Even though I'm always glad for the arrival of Summer, it's always tinged with a little bit of sadness - less and less every year, but it's always there, and it's always going to be. A few years ago, vaguely around this time of year, I - and a lot of people in my life - lost someone important; probably one of the best friends I've had. I think back and I'm still inspired by my friend, and it still fascinates me how she managed to remain so upbeat, even as we began to see less and less of her over time. It's things like this, people like this that shape who we are and who we want to be. We all want to be the best person that we can be, so what's stopping us?

For me, I know that I'm in my head way too much sometimes, and that I need to just move way back into the present and get on with life, but sometimes, those far off, vaguely possible eventualities terrify me. But the problem is, not getting on with things now means that I might not get onto those far off eventualities, as likely or unlikely as they may be. And there it is, the shunt that takes me back into the reality that I'm in, and stops me daydreaming about lighthouses and illustrating children's books whilst simultaneously designing my own range of furniture... because I can't get there if I don't do this part of my life now.

Forgive me, I think I'm rambling a little bit...

The way we handle things that have happened to us, the things that are in our past... old things, shapes the way we see the future, whether you're a realist, optimist, pessimist, whatever-ist. It's really important to value experiences that you have now, and make the little things important. Remember the things that make you happy... and the things that make you sad, because honestly, you never know what you're going to be facing the next day.

I wish I'd had more time with my friend, that I'd gotten to make a few more of her days brighter, but I can't anymore, and I just have to rely on the idea that maybe, just maybe I managed to help make something brighter, whether it was a day wandering around the small city that I call home, or cracking a stupid joke in an IT class, I just hope that I made a difference. But now, I try and make everyone I meet smile, and it can be harder with some people more than others, but making someone smile, for someone as emotionally... muddled as I am, can just make you feel properly again.

Yeah...

- AJ

I'm angry at myself.

I'm finding myself coming back to this blog more and more, wanting to write things that I can't quite form words for, but I can give it a pretty good try most of the time... If there's one thing that I can actually do, it's words.

So I'm feeling pretty low today, and writing something or other usually helps me, so here we go...

I think I'm angry. Not at anyone else, not at anything in particular, it's just one of those days where everything you do makes you a little bit more frustrated until you build up this sort of completely angry, dissatisfied with life mentality. But it's a strange kind of feeling; not the immediate seeing red and wanting to do something irrational that you'd probably regret later, but more of a jaded sort of irritation with yourself.

And that's the distinction - I feel like I'm angry at myself. Which really shouldn't be a thing.

I'm usually quite a calm and cheerful person, and I try to be as much as possible. I try to help people when they need help, I get my stuff done, but now and then I just get this shite feeling at the back of my head which makes it really hard to do simple tasks like focus on what someone's saying. What makes it more annoying is that it's an inward thing. It's aimed at me. And being angry at yourself is just a really weird feeling. It just feels so odd.

So basically, I've felt a bit thrown off the last couple of days. It's been really confusing me, and it can be quite upsetting. But it's okay. It'll be fine eventually. I've had months of this before, and look, I'm alright now. I can do it again.

-AJ

Honesty

Honesty is a thing that people often struggle with, and reasonably so as well. It's hard to tell people things that you know they won't want to hear, or tell them things only to hear what you don't want to hear. It's often not easy to be honest, I understand that - there are things that I don't tell anyone, but sometimes, in spite of your apprehension, being honest, no matter what the outcome, is really the best thing to do. Because at least then you can be at peace with the truth, even if it takes a long time.

Sometimes, being able to be honest with someone else, helps them to be honest with themselves. Admitting something aloud or on paper makes something much more real and for me, it helps you accept the reality of what's going on. Sometimes, giving something a name makes it so much easier to fight. Because then, at least you know what you're fighting against.

I've been trying to write this for literally months. I must have started it in August, something like that. Almost a full year ago... I know it was before I moved to Glasgow, before I knew that I was moving here, even before I was as calm as I am now, day to day. But I think I'm starting to understand a bit better. I suppose what I want to say is that I'd rather someone was honest with me than lie to save my feelings. So I'd like to do the same with others.

I'd like to think there are people out there who are just the same as me, who do the same sorts of things in my position. I've been told before that the things that I put on here, that I try and share with as many people as possible are things that I should keep to myself. But that's not at all what I want to do. That isn't even remotely conducive to what I'm trying to achieve. Because if you are out there and you're like me... I want you to know that.

I want to put a positive stint on something that's really affected me... something that's affected me quite badly... Up until I could see retrospectively, I didn't realise quite how much. But the only really useful way I can think of is helping people. I can't help people by lying. So I'm being honest, because that's how I think it should be done.

I still get those days where I can't feel anything. It terrifies me. Every time, I don't think it'll go away. But it always does. It gets better. It always gets better. And that's what I'm trying to achieve.

Honesty can make things better... sometimes you just have to push it to do so.

-AJ x

Home

Here we go, attempt number three  of getting a post on here. I'm sat, in my room in Glasgow, in a place that's rarely quiet (now is one of those rare occasions) wondering why my room is always the coldest room in the flat, and why goodness me why, why am I so tired?

And yet, here I am, sat, at 02:01, writing things on a blog that I seem to neglect, when I have damp hair and a lecture later in the morning. I really should be going to sleep, but who on earth makes wise decisions at university? Apparently, sometimes, not me. Right now, although admittedly slightly stressed, I'm ultimately happy in my new surroundings, even if it means I am in a big, scary and often dangerous city. I like it here. It's arty and a bit mad. I suppose like me, but bigger.

__A few weeks later__

And so here we are again. This time, I'm a little further south and a little further east, and I'm back home for Christmas. Still tired. Still cold. But it's making me realise that, as much as this is home, my freezing, slightly grim room in Glasgow is also home. Home is a strange concept. I've never really thought of it more than a place where you live, but now, living in two very different places, it's hard to figure out which place I would consider home more. Whilst this house is my parents' house, and I've lived here for years, there's a kind of sense of ownership in living in what is, essentially, my own space, rented or not.

Being away from here, away from my family has made me appreciate my freedom and my space a bit more. Even so, it's still worth the four hour, two train journey to get back here to see my parents and my sixth-form friends. So I'm a bit torn. When I'm in Glasgow, at the end of term, I'm always wanting to go "home", here. But at the same time, now that I'm here, I want to go home to Glasgow. I'm blessed, I have two homes to go to, it's a good position to be in, but at the same time, I'm really quite confused as to what home really means to me. Is it the people? Is it the place? I suppose I'll figure that out eventually.

So now I'm sat here, at much less exciting times of the day, wondering how other people feel about living in two places, wondering if they're quite as confused as I am...

-AJ

Armpits4August - Raising awareness for PCOS

So a few days ago, a friend pointed out this website to me. As you all know - and if you don't, come on, it's in my banner for goodness sake - I have PCOS. I try and raise awareness for it in whatever way I can bring myself to do; these guys... or girls, rather, are doing just that. They're a completely awesome cause and they're supporting a great PCOS charity. So this post is encouraging you to go take a look at them. And maybe donate? Take part?

I'm not taking part in Armpits4August, admittedly, because I'm fairly self-conscious and a little vain. So instead of taking part, I'm spreading the word, hopefully you guys will. Basically, they're growing out their armpit hair for August - kind of like Movember, I guess. You don't just have to be a woman to take part. Twitter has been coming alive with men taking part by shaving their armpits and recording their experiences.

So everyone doing it is getting sponsored and that money goes to a charity called Verity. I have a link in my side-bar if you're interested. They're an awesome charity, working to find out more about PCOS and helping people that have it.

You can contact the A4A girls over on Twitter @Armpits4August or by using hashtag #pitpride and they're really friendly and often reply. I don't want this to be a very long post, so that's all I really have to say. Go check these girls out and give them some support!

-AJ

The Memory Eater Anthology

AAAAAAHHHHH! IT'S FINALLY HERE!

So I'm going to review it in my own little way. I've been excited to get my hands on a copy of The Memory Eater Anthology for MONTHS now, partly because I was really excited to read it, and partly because I actually helped illustrate it. I'm not usually a fan of anthologies, but I say this completely genuinely, this anthology is awesome, and I implore you to go get a copy.

I didn't write any of the book, so I can be un-biased when it comes to the writing. There are what? 27 stories? All of them were completely unique and they just kept getting better. The anthology is based on the idea of a piece of equipment called the memory eater, which can find and destroy any specific memory. An imaginative idea, which honestly, I first thought would be a bit... meh.

But once you actually read the book, the narrative voices are all so individual but they're all the same in one thing. They are utterly captivating. You can see the amount of work that's gone into writing each story and why they were chosen to be in the anthology. The originality of the plots was, as well, completely absorbing and I just loved every page.

As well as this, the illustrations were actually pretty amazing. As an artist, I could see how imaginative a lot of them were, and I could stare at them for hours. There isn't really much for me to say other than, seriously go get a copy - it's available from Amazon so it's really easy to get hold of.

GO. BUY. READ.

(I feel like I should point out that, as a contributor, I don't get any money from the project, so I'm not giving it a positive review for that. I did this purely on a voluntary basis, as, I am aware, did the other illustrators.)

-AJ