Confidence – I never used to have it. 

Ok. I’m gonna say this. I have always been self conscious, for the most part of my adult life but lately I’ve come to the realisation that I’m still a good person regardless of the body I am in. So I’m gonna be over here living my chubby life. 😂
I’m fat – I know this. I don’t need people to tell me that I’m not fat. I am not blind and I know that I could do with losing a few pound. 

I live in this body, I know it pretty well after 30 years. I also don’t care that I’m a fat bastard anymore. 
Could I lose weight? Probably. 
Is it your place to tell me so? Unless you’re my doctor [who probably doesn’t know what i look like seeing as I can’t get an appointment anyway] then NO!  
Should I do it for the benefit of others? Hell f*cking no! 
Being fat doesn’t mean I’m not healthy. Yeah I could be healthier but most of us could.

I also probably eat better than 50% of the skinnier girls you seem to love so much. If it affects your life so much then maybe you should do something about YOUR life because I’m living mine the best way I know how and my weight or shape [ROUND🤣]shouldn’t bother you.
You’re uncomfortable when my shirt rides up and my chubby belly shows? That’s a shame because I’m quite comfortable not sweating my balls off in this heat. 

I’m human too. I just happen to be a fatter one than you. Big deal. 
Don’t like it? Then see ya later, because I just don’t care anymore. I’m going to flash my Caspar white tummy all I want.

I’m not 100% confident all the time but for now I am, so I’m gonna enjoy it. 

Oh but you don’t look depressed…

Blimey! I must be cured then. Thank you for that incredible remedy, you really should bottle that up.

I am stressed, my anxieties are through the roof lately and my black dog is back for a visit. Crushing me with the cuddle I don’t want. Life is a little bit shitty right now, and it isn’t made any easier by people saying all those unhelpful things, like my mental illness isn’t justified because I am not moping around crying. Incidentally, I am, just not in public and not all the time.

I don’t understand where the idea that depression has a ‘look’ came from. I can’t make out what I am supposed to look like. What the hell does depression look like?

It looks like ME, you, the guy down the road and your best friends uncle. Your sisters boss or the lady working the checkout at the local Tesco. Depression doesn’t have a look.

We don’t walk around with a big shiny arrow pointing at our heads. We do laugh. We have been known to smile – even daily. We go outside, we go to work, we eat, drink, shower and do all those normal things. Most of the time. We function, we fit in and we live.

Depression is an invisible illness, you can’t look depressed. Having a sad face or teary eyes doesn’t mean depression. That person is quite possibly just feeling sad. Depression is so much more than feeling a bit sad, looking a bit down and moping about.

I feel my depression like the ocean, sometimes I am just paddling in the surf enjoying my life with my emotions swirling happily around my toes. When the tide comes in it goes one of two ways. I take a few steps back and re-evaluate the situation, keeping that little pool at bay. Other times I am stuck. Glued to the spot, helpless. The emotions, the emptiness, the anxiety, the feeling lost, incomplete, lonely, sad, overwhelmed and pretty much completely hopeless crash around me. The tears stream and pool in the water. The water that feels as though it’s rising too quickly. The ocean swells, the waves get stronger, the water heavier, tugging and thrashing around me. And then it hits me. That final big crushing wave and all of a sudden I am drowning. Invisible, struggling and fighting with all my might under the heaving flow of water that engulfs me.

 

but I don’t look depressed…

 

Overweight doesn’t mean unfit.  

I needed some new clothes, the seasons are changing and I just wanted to add a couple of bits to the wardrobe so I don’t die in this heat we’re getting. 

I loathe clothes shopping, always have, always will no doubt. Being a big girl with the addition of my anxiety and all that shit, going to actual clothes shops to try things on is a crappy task that I avoid at all costs. 

I got more and more frustrated – being a fatpie in a clothes shop isn’t very fun, but mostly I just couldn’t get over the clothes. Nothing seems to be anything I want, the ‘on trend’ fabrics are plasticy and hot as hell for this time of year or mesh. Like literal see through mesh. That doesn’t look good on the satsumas so it isn’t gonna look good any many humans. 

One woman was talking with my mum and we were discussing how frustrated I was, with the weird selection of fabrics, colours patterns and the bigger you want clothes the shittier they seem to get. Anyway…
She said ‘have you tried getting a bike.’ Like I need telling to exercise from a skinny person when I’m already pissed off.

I said ‘well I walk 6miles a day minimum on average with the dog, anyway.’ 

She looked so taken aback by the fact that a fat person does more exercise than she does as a skinny person. I’m fat, it’s not like I don’t know it – I don’t care if people judge me, but for crying out loud at least try not to look like I’ve just hopped on a unicorn when I say that I do actually exercise a bit. 
Yeah I should probably look at moving more and eating better choices but that is for me to decide not anyone else. I’m not unhappy because I’m fat. I’m unhappy because I happen to have a mental illness that thrives on me being that way. 
I got some shorts anyway and I think I will avoid clothes shops for as long as possible. Mostly because of the bloody people in them. So what if I am fat, I still need to put clothes on and it shouldn’t be such a chore to find basics in a multitude of shops. But it is. 

Think before you speak – don’t be a dick. Week 3

Things that people who don’t understand say when you tell them about mental illness.  Maybe someone might read it and re-evaluate what they say to the next person who has taken the plunge to open up about their mental illness.

‘What are you so sad about, some people don’t even have clean water.’

Right, because belittling my problems because other people are worse off is definitely the way to go. Just because I have clean water and some people do not, doesn’t make my sadness any less valid.

Funnily enough, happiness isn’t in the water or depression wouldn’t be a thing.

I can still have sympathy and empathy whilst suffering with my mental illness. Mental illness is not a ‘first world problem’ it is a global issue that couldn’t give two fucks if the person it next latches on to has a grand estate with a moat or has to walk 50 miles for a clean bucket of water.

Get off your high horse and don’t be a dick. You could be next. It’s not about who has what – it’s a problem with my brain, not my access to a tap.

Think before you speak – don’t be a dick – Week 2

Things that people who don’t understand say when you tell them about mental illness.  Maybe someone might read it and re-evaluate what they say to the next person who has taken the plunge to open up about their mental illness.

‘Oh, I felt a bit sad the other day too, I had a good cry and felt much better afterwards’

No. This is probably one of the biggest misconceptions of depression. It isn’t just feeling a bit sad. It’s an overwhelming feeling of everything and nothing all at once.

Emptiness, Sadness, Desperation, Fear, Panic, Anger, Sorrow, Guilt, Hopelessness, Exhaustion and a million other things too. All while feeling completely hollow and disconnected. A good cry won’t fix it. It might help alleviate some feelings, but you can’t just cry out depression – if you could, it wouldn’t be considered an illness.

I am sorry you felt sad the other day, but it really REALLY doesn’t quite compare to depression. Everyone experiences depression in different ways, yes there are many symptoms all people experience, but my sorrow is different to yours, MY fears are different to yours. It’s not about feeling a bit sad and crying it out.

 

If only it were…

Think before you speak. Don’t be a dick.

Think before you speak. Don’t be a dick. – Week 1

Things that people who don’t understand say when you tell them about mental illness. There are so many, I am going to start this as a weekly feature. Maybe someone might read it and re-evaluate what they say to the next person who has taken the plunge to open up about their mental illness. 


I do have many things in my life to be grateful for. Do you know what? I am

It is possible to be depressed and still be grateful. 

To be angry and be grateful. 

To feel lonely and be grateful. 

To be scared and still be grateful. 

To feel exhaustion and STILL BE GRATEFUL. 

There is nothing more heartbreaking than opening up to someone and hearing anything along the lines of ‘but you have so much to be grateful for.’

Depression doesn’t work like that. I don’t know why I feel like I am slowly drowning in my own sorrow inside, why it hurts to be awake somedays and it feels like an achievement if I manage to get dressed. It just does. That doesn’t mean I am not grateful for the clothes I (don’t) wear or the food I (can’t) eat. The people I (can’t) talk to. It doesn’t mean I’m ungrateful. I’m just unwell. 

When you say something like that it makes people feel guilty. Guilty for being ill, for having something that they cannot control taking over their lives. 

Fuck, we feel bad enough as it is, without you strapping us into the guilt train for another ride into hell for the day/week. 

Think before you speak. Don’t be a dick.