I want to go away somewhere to clear my head. You’d think that doing this is going to be the right option, and that being alone with your thoughts you might some how have an epiphany and end up finding yourself, like Julia fucking Roberts in Eat Pray Love.

However, this isn’t going to be the case. 
If I went to Italy like she did, I’d probably end up comfort eating myself to death. Either that or I’d be sat alone, over analysing every little thing and convincing myself that I’m never going to get better.

I’m fed up of taking meds. I can’t rely on these things for the rest of my life, I can’t be arsed with a quick-fix drug for a good day here and there. I just want to be normal and live my life.

I constantly feel restricted with certain things. I’ve had to quit work because it’s taking over me, is this the way I’m going to be for years to come? I certainly fucking hope not. 

The irony of it all was that I was going to actually work with people with mental illnesses, in hope of sharing my experiences and try to help them get on with their lives. How can I help people if I can’t even help myself?

This year I’m definitely trying to get a grip.