#HonestApril Suicide

No one got back to me on this so I’m posting it.

 

Now, before we begin, I DO NOT support suicide. I have had suicidal thoughts but I do not support it. Do not take this as me saying ‘oh, you should go and kill yourself’. Oh, no. I am trying to say that no, suicide is not good. I would never commit suicide. Do. Not. Take. This. The. Wrong. Way. OKAY????? Shall we begin now? Yes, we will.

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Suicide is huge at the moment. Hey, heck, they believe that Avicii just committed suicide. I don’t mean that in a joking manner, because I LOVE Avicii’s music. But so, so, so many people are committing suicide. Last year 606 people committed suicide in New Zealand alone. About 1 out of every 10,000 people commit suicide annually. Just an approximation.

Most of my stories have some character committing suicide. I don’t know why, but they just do. These characters just seem to kill themselves. They are all like this. They are just normal people who have something that happens to them and then they just kill themselves. Look, this is really bad explaining. Let’s just skip it.

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I’ll move onto people killing themselves. Look, so many celebrities kill themselves. Chester Bennington (Linkin Park singer), Chris Cornell, Hannah Stone, August Ames and so many more. OK! So I don’t know who any of them are. But they all killed themselves last year. Yes, there were a lot more people who did the same. Most of them were not celebrities though. Just people who live as you and I do.

One of the biggest causes of suicide is depression. Depression kills so, so, so many people every year. They kill themselves because the depression has the ability to kill them. If you have read the rest of this series you will have read the post where I talked about my depression taking me over. Taking over my thoughts and my body in that process. It turns the thoughts into bad thoughts that turn it into deadly things. The thoughts get turned into things that have the ability to kill us. They do kill us.

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Um, I really have no idea what I’m meant to say. I know what I mean to say but not really. I wrote a chapter of my story last night, it was the second to last chapter and it was about a girl writing a diary entry about the fact that she was about to kill herself. She said in it she was sorry. She was sorry that she had just walked off the bridge. Oh, I’ll give you a snippet. Just think about it. Um, I think I might just end it here. Can you just think about what I’m saying when I’m writing this. I know it’s about trains but if you realise what it’s really about then that’s be good.

It will not be easy to continue as you were before. As you are at this very moment. But you will continue. You will get on with life. Life will go on as it was. The world will not stop turning at it’s mind-boggling pace when my train stops.

Your train of life – whether it be 5 times the length of mine or a third of that – will keep plodding on. Because if my train stops and each other person who loves me’s trains stop, and the people around them’s, then no one’s train would be around anymore. There would no longer be a world. There would no longer be anyone to keep my spirit alive in. There would be no one to keep the image of my train with them.

When my train stops, no one else’s has to. As my train comes to its halt in the middle of the tracks, the others will continue on around it. Those passing trains of life will see my stationary train for a while. Fully, they will see each and every detail on it. But as time goes on, as the palaver of a stationary train gets forgotten – as my death settles in – my train will fade. It will fade and a new train will take its place. A new train will run along mine’s rails.

When my train has been replaced, the image of it in the mind’s eye and in photographs is all that will remain. Along with the odd bits and pieces that fell from the train along it’s journey. All that will remain of me when I am completely over. All that will remain in the mental images – the ones that cannot be forgotten – the photographs – the few there are – and the possessions I own tat will be cleared away as time goes on. I will only be a memory then. But that is good. It means that it does not hurt anymore. I am sorry.

So, I really have no clue what else to say. Just, I have had suicidal thoughts but I don’t want to kill myself. I am going to stop those thoughts because if I don’t, I will kill myself with them. Look, if I can do it, you can too. If you just want to talk, I am here. I am sorry for the weird post. Just, don’t kill yourself.

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Xoxoxoxo. Love you lots.

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#HonestApril Covers

Hiya again!

I mean to post yesterday but we were in town ALL DAY! I mean, we left the house at 9am and didn’t get back until 6pm and I really did not feel like writing a blog post on covers at that time I’m afraid!!! So, here is that post a day late! Enjoy (or not?!)!

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Hang on! Before we begin would you mind going and watching the amazing video that popped up on my YouTube feed this morning. This is how anxiety affects you and how you get over it. Just think about it before you read the rest of the post. xo

 

Oh yeah, and in this Anxiety Test I answered 8 yeses. There were 8 questions. So, it’s over highly likely I have anxiety. Go test it out and tell me your score! If you don’t want it posted in the comments I’ll keep them private. Just go do it. It’ll help you.

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Covers. Masks. Poker faces. Whatever you want to call them, they’re all the same. Things that have one purpose and one purpose alone: to hide what is really going on inside our heads. To hide the depression. The anxiety. They get stronger with the depression so we can never show our ‘True Colours’ I s’pose you could call them.

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My cover’s always been this snarky/sassy mix that’s defined me. Look, I’ve always been snarky and sassy, strong willed and going to extremes to do things. But my cover made it worse. Okay, I’m not going to tell you what’s really underneath that, not all of it at least. Officially, under the cover I’m ruled by what I want. Under the cover there’s what I want and the mental illnesses and stuff. What I wanted was to cover the depression so my cover grew off that and it grew into what I had always had. Oddly enough, even though I have come out about this, I am still under that cover. Why, I don’t know. I think that for over two years – almost three – I’ve been under it and so now, it’s just become what I do. It has become ME. Because that’s now what people have come to expect. They’ve come the expect the anger and the sarcasm and the criticism. A lot of what I do is not real. A lot of what I am is not real. On here, because you can’t see my facial expressions, hear the tone of my voice, I have the ability to be real. On here at least, I am real. My depression? That is real. My anxiety? That is real. What I tell people about my mental health? That. Is. Real. Because, in my opinion, it NEEDS to be out there. Because nothing is going to change if someone doesn’t decide to come out.

Back to the cover. Sorry. Um, covers are there for us when we are not alright. They’re what keeps us going. Holds us up. Controls us. They’re what makes us stronger. Because they hide what we are like. They hide what we need to hide. the depression and the anguish and the anxiety. Under the cover I can hide how much pain I am in. I can hide the fact that the offhand words people say hurt me. I can hide the knife in my heart. The knife that is blunt. The knife that can’t kill. The knife that can only hurt. Only make me hurt. Only turn. Turn and turn and turn. Only hurt me more and more and more. It can’t kill me. That depression, it can’t kill me. Well, the cover hides that all. It makes me who I am.

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The cover is like a mask. It is chucked up and no one can ever know who’s underneath it. Think about the depression as a person at a masquerade ball. The person with the depression as the ball. Everyone knows what it is – what they are, who they are, a person – but no one knows anything else about the people under those masks. No one knows abut the anxiety, the depression under those masks. No one knows that there is anxiety or depression under those masks. That’s what they’re there for. To hide you.

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Look, I’ll tell you something odd. Why do I run? Truly? To get rid of that cover for moments. Brief moments, yes, but for moments. To clear my head of it before chucking it back up. And because it’s fun. But not so much the latter. I have the ability t let the cover down – show what’s underneath – without anyone knowing. Why do I run alone? Because then I can have that cover down without people knowing a. Single. Thing. But why do I have the cover up? Now? When I’ve told people about my mental health situation? Why do I keep running to let it down for 20, 30 minutes at a time? Because, honestly, if I let the cover down, people wouldn’t believe me. Reality would be  – to them – the cover. Dropping it would take years. It’s easier to keep it up really. Dropping it would be more exhausting than keeping it up is. And, over the past three years, keeping that cover up has just become second nature.

 

I’m not going to tell you how to create a good cover, because – as much as I have one  – I am against covers. Against keeping them if you don’t have to. So I could tell you how to have a successful one, but I won’t. I won’t tell you what my covers are like, not completely, and I won’t tell you what the reality is like. Because, for me, those things are far, far, far too hard to even contemplate thinking about. Talking about.

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I said above, that I wouldn’t tell you about my covers. Note the ‘s’ on the end of that word. I will tell you what I mean by that. I mean, that I have more than one cover. I have five.

  1. My home cover. The cover I use at home to hide my mental illnesses and the other shit that’s under it. The cover that my family is used to. Often, this is weak because I’m tired of using the other covers. It never falters but is a much more angry state of me.
  2. My class cover. The cover I use in front of my teachers and the classmates I’m not close to. This is the way they all know me. This is a lot stronger than my home cover. Because I don’t have the ability to let it down in class so it needs to be stronger. It’s very much a lovely, shy, respectful girl who works hard and pleases people.
  3. My close friend cover. This is by far the weakest cover. It’s what I use in front of my friends. Why, you may ask, is it the weakest? It’s the weakest because most of my friends understand what I’m going through. They let me be more…more myself. They let me let that cover down mostly and don’t care. Because I let them let theirs down. It’s very much the real me. I can confide in them, get angry, snappy with them laugh with them and annoy them. And they don’t care. Because that’s who I am. Really, it’s almost my whole cover gone.
  4. My other friend cover. The cover I use in front of my friends who I’m not too close to. It’s weaker than most of the others but it’s still strong enough that I can restrain myself from getting angry and snappy and also too annoying. It’s easier to keep up than most of the others. Pretty much it’s a loud, excitable fangirl. Mostly what I am her too!
  5. My ‘other’ cover. This is pretty much the cover I use for anything else. I use it for emails, talking to people I don’t know, commenting on blogs (sorry guys!) and stuff like that. I use it whenever I need to and it’s very much just my go-to cover. It’s relatively strong, but weaker than my home and class covers. For one reason: most of the time I use it over the internet so I just think the things I need to say. And when I use it IRL it’s because I’m only talking to the person briefly – in the shops, at Mum’s work, in the corridors at school. This cover is pretty much an overly confident but kind and often a bit OTT girl. Fangirl. It’s weaker than most, but probably the most exhausting of all my covers to keep up because it is so…so uncomfortable. Because those things are very easy to keep up when they’re separate, in different covers, but together, they’re hard.

Well, that went well! I told you what I said I wouldn’t! I’m really sorry if a lo of that sounded very abrupt, but I really didn’t mean for it to be! Sorry.

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So, I think I’ve covered everything I think I can in this post. Please, please, please get in touch with me and if you need the cover kept private then just say the word and I will. I can’t respond in those comments so if you don’t want a response, that’s the perfect way for you to express how you feel. If you want a response, check my contact page. And tell me your test results if you want too!

And…fill this in! Thanks to those who have (all FOUR of you)!

https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSdT60EP7x_XJUNAhYeLmSu6IFYtscX1jKjrjZ1R1jrKPWXiUg/viewform

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Oh, I just need to run something past you before I go. I would like to do a post on suicide/self-harm on Sunday. Would you like this because I’m not too sure about it. I won’t do it if the majority of people are against it but if I get mostly positive responses or none at all then I will. Thanks guys!

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Hope you understood everything in that 1500 word post! Love you lots.

Sign off

#HonestApril Eating Disorders and Body Image

I’m sorry about that last post.

So sorry. So, so sorry. But, well, that is what I’m like when I have an anxiety/anger/depression attack. Yeah, I had a good Sunday. Let’s just say that I kinda realised why I was feeling so rubbish and didn’t have any time to, sorta, um, sort things out before the actual anxiety attack began. So, yeah, it was all good. I sat outside and texted my amazing friend (who doesn’t read this because she doesn’t think that what I say is good for her mental health (good point my friend)) and wrote that post. I did NOT mean to post it. Look, when WordPress is the only thing that will work on your phone then you use it. And it posted itself as it always does. I’m sorry.

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And actually, that’s a good way to start off this post. I had that at about 10AM and sorta kept it quiet until lunch when something happened, I exploded (AKA swore (look, it was an accident, I meant to say flipping, you can imagine what I actually said, it was an accident, I swear (pun unintended))) at my parents and stormed off to the bench where I sat for an hour texting my friend, writing that weird post and playing mindless games on my phone before proceeding inside to my room where I spend 4 hours playing more  mindless games under my blankets until my phone died when I lay under them for another hour before beginning to crochet a giant blanket for 6 hours until I went to sleep. Yeah, the blanket isn’t done yet. So, in the end, I didn’t eat until breakfast the next morning. All in all I didn’t eat between 8AM on Sunday and 9AM on Monday. Yeah, my diet was NOT at all good. Good beginning for this post on eating. Let’s get into it, shall we?

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My eating was greatly affected last year (and probably this year too) by my depression/anxiety. Um, I think it began with binge-eating. Yes. It began with my binge-eating. Binge-eating is pretty self-explanatory. You pretty much just eat, like, everything you can in a very short period of time, like, 1,000 calories in 30mins. No, mine wasn’t that bad, but a lot of people do have things like that.

So, this was when I just had the depression. I’d just get home and eat, like, the whole of the cupboard. I ate so, so, so much stuff, I wouldn’t eat much at big meals and then I’d eat the whole cupboard after those meals and as ‘snacks’. So yeah. Then I gained about 3kg, I mean, it wasn’t much but I was running. And my stupid depression made me think that my body was so, so, so fat and overweight. Lovely. So at this point I was weighing about 55kg??? I don’t know. It was about that. So actually, I wasn’t overweight. But I thought I was. And then I got the anxiety and with that I also got (do you get these thing? C’mon Emily, you’re the expert, lol.) anorexia.

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So, the anorexia. I probably definitely still have the anorexia. Anorexia is a bit more complicated. It’s where you totally restrict your calorie intake and drastically lose weight. Look, the definition!

anorexia

ˌanəˈrɛksɪə/
noun
  1. lack or loss of appetite for food (as a medical condition).
    • an emotional disorder characterized by an obsessive desire to lose weight by refusing to eat.

I dropped about 8kg in, like, 8 weeks. Yeah, I kept track of how much weight I actually lost and it was 1kg per week. I had a super low calorie intake and was running upwards of 8km a day, over 64km per week. I lost weight so, so, so fast and then dropped to 47kg. For me, at 162???cm that was, like, the lowest I could have gone without being officially underweight for my height. For several weeks I stuck at that weight. Then, I think it might have been one of the last weeks of the second term (around July/August???) when I had a blood test. And I fainted. Because of low blood sugar levels. And then people began to realise what was actually going on. My parents watched what I ate (for all of three weeks) and my friends made sure that I actually ate. This lasted for a couple of weeks before I started cutting again. I cut out all potatoes, breads, dairy, sugar, junk food, fried food and most carbs. I think that I gained a little more weight and it was around about this time that I got a running coach who took control of my running so I wasn’t running upwards of 8km a day. So that was good. I think I gained back about 3kg and since then I’ve stuck around the 50kg mark. Which is probably a good weight for me as a 162cm 13-year-old female runner.

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So, I said that I still had the anorexia. Yes. I do most certainly. I mean, I’ve kept most of those foods that I cut out last year out of my died. I do restrict carbs still, mostly white carbs and I’ve completely cut dairy from my diet (because I believe it may be causing most of my stomach pains/bloating) and I try not to eat sugars much. But just not as much as last year. I spent a couple of days tracking how many calories I ate and it rested about 900 per day. And I kept track of the number I burned too and that rested about 200 calories a day. But I’m not losing weight because I’m actually building muscle (hiya daily ab workouts) and losing fat. So I’m actually becoming slimmer without actually losing any weight meaning that officially I have nothing to worry about. I could definitely eat a bit more but I just don’t actually want to.

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Now, I’ve been into my eating disorders (no, I didn’t have bulimia. That would not have been easy to keep secret. Look it up if you don’t know what it is.) and now I’ll go into some body image stuff. If you relate to this, please comment because you know how much I love that XD. I will also be doing a post on happiness/self-love/self-care next month.

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As I said, a lot of my anorexia came from not liking my body image. Pretty much I caved to that foul stereotype that all women must be tall, slim, have perfect skin, flawless hair and shiny white teeth molded into a perfect smile. Yeck. May I vomit please?! So I had this idea that I had to look perfect but I actually made myself feel worse than when I had thought myself as ‘fat’. So, y’know, it just wasn’t actually good. Does that make any sense? Y’all told me that my last #HonestApril post made sense, so this one should too?! I hope it does! So I’ll do another post sometime on body image for you all. But until then, just love yourself, look after yourself and smile! Also, the wonderful Samantha wrote a post yesterday on a week of self-care and I’m taking it as a challenge until next Tuesday to try most methods of self-care out there! Join me if you want, comment if you will! xo

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I need more questions on this form for my Q&A as I have only had 3 people give me questions. Please take 3 minutes to do it.

Love you lots!

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I don’t want sympathy, I don’t want help, I just want to let myself go.

I’ve had a huge anxiety attack. I need to release myself.

I need a way to get over this, but I have none.

I need a way to call down, but I can’t.

I need a way to turn my brain off, but that’s not possible.

I need someone to talk to, but no one will talk to me.

I need to know I’m not alone, but I am.

I need a way to express myself, b UT I have none.

I need to eat, but I have nothing to eat.

I need a way to get warm, but my body won’t let me.

I need a way to stop this from starting, but there isn’t one.

I need a way to stop shaking, but there isn’t one.

I need a way to feel better, but I know none.

I need someone to help me, but there isn’t anyone.

I need someone to talk to, but there isn’t anyone.

I need a way to take my pain away, but I can’t.

I need a way to stop this from happening, but that can’t happen.

I need to go back inside, but I can’t.

I need to go to sleep, but my brain won’t let me.

I need to let myself go, but I have no means of doing so.

I need to do something, but I can barely walk.

I need to feel happy, but I don’t have the ability.

I need to stop doing this, but how can I?

I need to know I’m not alone, but I am.

I need to feel something, but there’s nothing to feel.

I need to listen to music, but my ears won’t hear it.

I need to calm my heart rate, but that can’t happen.

I need someone to be here with me, but no one is.

I need my anger to recede, but it won’t.

I need the tears to stop, but they keep spilling over.

I need to say something, but I don’t have the words.

I need to let this all out, but I can’t do that without hurting myself.

I need to hurt myself, but that would be bad.

I need to kill myself, but I have no means of doing so.

I need to die, but I don’t want to kill myself.

I need to know I am not alone, but I know I am.

Right now, I am alone.

#HonestApril Anxiety, Anger and Their Place in Mental Health

Mental health is not all Depression.

This is a post about more mental health issues I deal with. I know that a lot of my wonderful followers have told me that they have anxiety rather than depression and so I’ve dedicated a whole post the topic!

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So, I had to look up the definition of anxiety because I couldn’t remember it. The definition of anxiety is:

anxiety

aŋˈzʌɪəti/
noun
1.a feeling of worry, nervousness, or unease about something with an uncertain outcome.
So, pretty much, anxiety is worrying. And I worry a huge amount. And therefore I have huge amounts of anxiety. And, just as a note, it is not nice at all. Um, this is a lot harder to write about than depression. So, it’s harder for people to understand than depression (and that’s hard for people to understand!).
Um, if you don’t have anxiety, LUCKY YOU! Please, don’t take it for granted, because you really don’t want to have it. It’s scary and hard.
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So, anxiety attacks. They’re hard to deal with and scary. People always tell me they have anxiety attacks. But people don’t really have anxiety attacks. People don’t really know what they feel like. People don’t know the feeling of having your chest crushed in. The feeling of not being able to breath, not being able to feel anything, not being able to understand what anyone’s saying. Not being able to think, being all jittery. It’s scary and people don’t understand that. People don’t understand what it really feels like. And…WE CAN’T TELL YOU WHEN WE ARE GOING TO HAVE AN ANXIETY ATTACK! Okay? Do you understand that. Should I repeat? WE CAN’T TELL YOU WHEN WE ARE GOING TO HAVE AN ANXIETY ATTACK! Okay, it’s done. It’s in huge font and you shouldn’t miss it now.
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If you’ve read my post on that foul book I read a while back (it’s here if you’re a new follower) you’ll be starting to notice why I hated it so much. If you haven’t, don’t worry, I’ll cover it in this next paragraph. So, I hated it a lot because I have anxiety as Evie did. Evie didn’t share her anxiety and that was what I did and I related a lot to that. Then when her mother told her that she should have been more considerate about when she had her anxiety attack. As someone who struggles with anxiety and has had anxiety attacks in the past (hello 5 hour anxiety attack last year (I’ll cover it later)) I knew how hard it was to try and schedule your anxiety attacks. Actually, you can’t schedule your anxiety attacks. That’s stupid. Can you imagine trying to schedule something that is always there? No, you can’t do that. It. Is. The. Most. Stupid. Thing. I. Have. EVER. HEARD. Really, can you imagine that? I know I have just repeated myself, like, five times but it is super important to me.

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So, next, anger. I have always had HUGE amounts of anger and this has impacted hugely on my mental health. Now, anger is not really an emotion. It is really a state of being. But with anger there is always a huge emotion underneath it and that for me has always seemed to be anxiety, worry or sadness. So, in short, the underlying emotion has always been anxiety or depression. Oh, for goodness sake this is not making any sense. Right, for me let’s start again.
Anger is there with me at all times and I am a very angry person. I just snap if people wind me up a lot. But it has not done me any good. I just get really angry. Okay, I give up on this. I am angry and it is not good for my mental health.

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Their place in my life and mental health. Most people I know with mental health have anxiety or social anxiety rather than depression and TBH anxiety is worse than depression. Their place in my life is huge. Last year the anger and anxiety took over my life and made me feel awful. My self-care went right down. What the heck am I saying? Grrrrrrrrrrrrr. Um, the anxiety and anger has a huge part in my life, I seem to have the anxiety attacks when I get super angry and so they go hand-in-hand. I had about three major anxiety attacks last year ad have had several miniature ones this year. They seem to take over my life and they are the only thing I can think about. What am I saying. I really don’t know. I’m sorry. Today I am messed up.

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Right, this is going really, really, really badly. Nice. Just read the anxiety part of this. These are really hard things for me to talk about because they’re hard to understand and thus explain. Oh, my gosh, I’m dead today. My head hurts and I need to go wash my hands, face and go for walk in the cold to help clear my mind. Okay, goodbye!
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GOODBYE! THE WEIRDO EMILY NOW LEAVES YOU! lol LOVE YOU LOTS.
FILL IN MY Q&A QUESTION SHEET! lol https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSdT60EP7x_XJUNAhYeLmSu6IFYtscX1jKjrjZ1R1jrKPWXiUg/viewform

OH!!! AND I SLEPT 8 HOURS LAST NIGHT! WE’RE MAKING PROGRESS ON MY SELF-CARE!
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#HonestApril Sinking Back Into the Lovely Thing that is Depression + What it Seems to Do to You

Last depression post in this series guys!

After reading a person who I know IRL’s Instagram posts today, I’ve felt a need to rite about what it’s like to get back into the depression. You know who you are and if you’re reading this, thank you. Please, contact me at anytime, you have my IG and my email’s on here.

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So, depression is not usually something you have the actual ability to stop. I mean, you can by, like, looking after yourself well, but often the first time it just comes and you don’t really notice it and therefore can’t stop it. The second time around, however, you often feel it all over again and you have the ability to stop it. This is again another diary entry from January 20 this year.

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I’m the one who allows the depression back in. I actually have the ability to stop it but I just don’t. I’m actually the one who lets it back in. The second time the actual depression will be worse than the last time. But in turn the cover will be better and not let down again. I will cover covers in three posts time, next Thursday. Personally, I know that I don’t have a choice about whether the actual depression will get back in. It’s not a question of ‘will it’ but instead ‘when will it’, so that’s the question, when should I let it back? Should I let it back in now or should I leave it for longer and let it grow stronger at the same time I grow my cover? (Please note that I let it back in on the 3rd of February, I wrote it down in my calendar.)

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This is from the 4th of February when I knew that the depression had come back.

Somehow, as you fade back into the depression, it’s easier. Maybe because you’ve walked that path before, you know your way down it. (Refer to my first depression post for this path theory.) It seems to shine brighter the second time You just follow it without doubting what you’re doing – not that you really do the first time. But when you get to it, it’s somehow scarier. Because it hits harder, even at the start. Now, my depression is just fine, probably the same as when I first got it this year.  The knowledge that you have of where you’re going leads you on. It causes you to speed up. To go down that path faster. It gets you to the centre of the depression much faster the second time. It doesn’t get you to the other side any quicker, however. And it makes the whole process of getting through it much more dangerous, scarier. I feel this because – without an explanation – I know. I know because I’ve been there before, so I know what it actually feels like. I’ve felt the cold inside before. The nothing inside before. Felt the blades pounding and hacking away inside me. The unforeseen, unreasoned grief. The tears underneath, covered with smiles and glares, because those are expected, those have some small amount of explanation. Those can be forgotten, forgiven. The tears though, are just some outlet that – even if I really don’t have many emotions (don’t ask, just think about it, I haven’t got that much emotion inside me, sorry, but I can have a little emotion sometimes) – get the feelings of depression out of me.

Now, I knew the path I walked down because I’d walked it before. I’d walked it, hesitantly at first but then with force, as if an invisible hand was pulling me. The hand that was depression. Because it felt right, felt the correct thing to do. Because it told me that what I said to myself was true. But then it turned that against me. It found ways to kill me. Slowly, from the inside out, as it always does. To do its damage without any use of force, it found ways to kill me. Because I believed it. What it said, I believed. Because, to me, what it had said to lead me down that path was true. Gosh, once again, I’m making it poetic and lovely, like a dog, I think I’m treating it like a dog. At first I said I could rule the world, and it said that yes, I could rule the world. Then it told me the opposite. And I believed it. Told myself that what it said to me was true. I made it real. Scarily real. Dangerously real. Then it did it’s damage. It found ways to turn my mind against my body. Because I let it take over. Because my mind had trusted it. Had believed it.

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Can I say that one of the biggest impacts the depression has had on me is in the form of my writing. I mean, have you read my stories that I’ve put on here? gone. was about a person who jumped off a bridge, my latest story for Camp Nanowrimo now (although it is going to go through to July too) is about a girl who writes a diary from her point of view while battling with the depression and then – wait, no spoilers, but you can guess what happens really. So my writing has been severely impacted and has taken a much, much darker approach. I don’t really know how else to explain it or any of the other impacts it has had on m as a person. However, the simplest way to put it would be to say that I have had to give up a lot of the things I once loved because of the depression, not because I wanted to, but because it’s actually told me that I didn’t want to do those things and I’ve believed it.

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Yes, the depression the second time has been  harder than the first, the lovely after-effects (another post on Tuesday) have been harder to cope with, harder to stop. But somehow I have sort of stopped them. Just one though, the anorexia has been okay this time. The binge eating however, has not. So, as you saw there, some of the after-effects have been easier to cope with while others have been harder. But I will cover them on Tuesday.

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Okay, that post made no sense to me, and I’m sorry. But it did get my point across, just really that I’ve been there and actually have the ability to explain it. Get the word out there, start speaking up. Please.

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Oh, and here’s my Google Form for you lovelies to fill in for my Q&A next month for 200 followers and my second blogiversary!

https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSdT60EP7x_XJUNAhYeLmSu6IFYtscX1jKjrjZ1R1jrKPWXiUg/viewform

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Just as another note that I’m saying in each and every post, thank you for your support. Please go and follow me on Instagram @emilylk13 because that’s another simple contact form. Don’t hesitate to contact me either, I’m here for you to contact me and this series is about letting you know that you have my support with you at all times and that I am going through what you are too.

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Love you lots.

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#HonestApril Sharing the Word About Depression – Another Messed Up Post About Depression

More depression.

Yahoo! I have a lot to talk about with depression, so get ready! It’s also another diary entry that I wrote on the 5th of February.

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So many just close their eyes to depression. They turn their faces away from it because, to them, it’s easier that way. Easier to pretend that it doesn’t actually exist than to attempt to understand it, because they just don’t want to try to understand it or they just don’t actually want to know.

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People say ‘It’s okay’, ‘You’ll get over it’ and ‘It’s all inside your head’. Actually, that’s most people. And these are the things that fuel the depression. Because it makes those of us with the depression feel as though we are alone. Look, there’s that magic word from the last post – alone. All of the things that people say to us fuel the depression to eventually kill us. Because it is not okay. We do not feel okay, but what is the likelihood of us saying that? Pretty slim, right? Personally, I do actually tell people when I feel like crap (my friends at least). But others, me for most of my life, have covers and they are to say ‘yes, we’re all good, don’t worry!’. They’re there for the others, not us. They’re there so that we don’t have to explain it completely to everyone who come up to us and asks how we are. Because, for us, it’s easier that way. Easier to show that we are okay. Easier not to show the depression.

We don’t just ‘get over it’ either. Depression is a long-term thing. It’s something that is always there. It leaves scars, and scars are lifelong things. They never go away. No matter how much we would like them to go away, they don’t. Never, ever, ever. No matter how much we want them to. It’s just the way they work. We get the depression and, as I’ve said previously, once the hole of depression is opened, it never closes. It’s there forever. It’s not quite as simple as just ‘getting over it’. Think of it this way: you don’t just get over a family member dying, do you? It’s always there, the thought of them, you think they’re there with you, at all times, watching over you. Depression is a bit like that. It’s always there, somewhere, in your thoughts, maybe deep, deep inside. And some days, it pops up again. When it pops up again, it’s harder than the last time it decided to pop up. Realistically, it should be easier, since we’ve been through it before, but it’s not. Because the second time around, it’s stronger. The third it’s stronger still. And so on. It. Is. Always. There. We cannot get over it. because it will. Always. Be. There. No matter how amazing we feel, once there, mental illnesses are there for life.

It’s definitely not all in our heads. it may actually be in our heads, but to us it’s all over our bodies, it’s taking us over and killing us. It may sound dramatic, me putting it in this way, but let me tell you, there were times where it was so bad I felt like I would die. It’s not all fun and games inside our heads. The things that trigger the depression is usually outside our heads, outside our bodies. The stuff that injures us most is inside our heads but it’ in our brains and our brains are amazingly scary and powerful objects. Never. Underestimate. Your. Brain. Our imaginations get the better of us and suddenly this depression thing – I think of the depression as a dementor – is taking away our will to live. If you haven’t read/watched Harry Potter think of it as a big black cloud of fog slowly crawling up you and turning you black with it. But even that doesn’t satisfy as a valid explanation of depression. Yes, it happens slowly, without anyone seemingly noticing. It does really begin in our heads, but it just grows from there. Really, it takes over our whole bodies. From our heads downwards.

The depression is real. It’s not something we just make up, is it? Because who would like to do that? What is the point of shoving yourself into some unwanted grief, misery, on purpose? There isn’t any. If we could help it we wouldn’t get ourselves into the depression in the first place. Because we do not enjoy it, it’s not some fun merry-go-round. Oh no, it’s like climbing a 100-metre-rockface. Painful, dangerous, unhealthy.

It’s not fun. It’s not made up. It’s not got over. It is most certainly not okay. It kills. It lives. It thrives. It. Is. Real. Not made up. Not in our minds. It is our brains. It is making our choices. It is slowly killing us.

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So, what can people do about it? People always say to me (IRL of course) that after reading this they really want everyone to read it because to them it is important. So, there is one very easy thing you can do: you. Can. Share. This. I don’t want the publicity, I want people to know about depression. I just want you all to repost this, to share it, to tell people to check it our. Please. Can I just say, go check out the song ‘You Will Be Found’ from Dear Evan Hansen on YouTube. Please. It is amazing and has helped me through so much, just knowing that there are people who I can fall back on. Please. There are people who are out there who need you to just ‘reach out your hand’ and to take their’s. Please. I am crying while I am writing this. I am also listening to said song. It makes me almost cry literally every time I listen to it and I have a huge addiction to it.  About the two and a half minute mark, there is an amazing part where they’re talking about how everyone needs to take five minutes and listen to the speech. And I’ve had people tell me that everyone needs to take ten minutes and read my posts. So please, give the world that chance. Let them read it. Give them a chance to understand it. Link it on your Instagram, share it on Facebook. Even if you just find my Instagram and share my latest post I would be forever grateful. I cannot express in enough words how important this cause is to me. Whatever you do, please, share the word. Get people to start talking about depression. Please, please, please. People need to know that they. Are. Not. Alone. Because there are people out there for us. There are people who will take our hands. There are people who will just listen to us. Who will just hold us while we cry. Who will be there for us. I am here for you. If you ever need someone to talk to, please, please, please, do. Not. Hesitate. To. Email. Me. Please, I’m begging you, just spread the word. Make my tears for this useful.

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Please, please, please. I love you all so much and it is taking a lot out of me to write this, but I don’t care. I need this out there for others to know. Please, please, please. I just want people to know that they are not alone and that there are people out there who will help you, who will just listen. I am one of them. Please, please, please. Oh, gosh, I’m crying so much.

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Thank you, thank you, thank you. Gosh, if you’ve made it this far, I’m so grateful and I love you all so much. So, so, so much. If you’re crying right now, like I am, I’m sorry, so, so, so sorry. But thank you. Your tears are not wasted.

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you ar not alone

i am here with you

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thank you. for listening to me.

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#HonestApril A Messed Up Depression Post

Part of this is about mental health awareness.

So, why not have a post about depression as the third in the series! This is a messed up mix of the things about depression I have in my diary so pretty much you are reading my diary…? It’s a mix of what I think it is what it does to you. I will do a post on causes and ways of helping it at the end and this will just be about my depression.

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The depression is often not the hard part of depression, it’s usually the after-effects of the depression that are the hardest to deal with, it’s the sleepless nights, the nights spent crying myself to sleep, the cover-ups of those nights, the faux smiles and the cover that is always up. Some call it a cover, some call it a poker face, whatever, it’s the same and I will post on that later in the series. It’s the cover that is left up forever when people are with others and is only let down when they are alone.  It’s the anger, lies and stress-marks that cover the depression that are hard and the other things that come after – the anxiety, the suicidal thoughts, the eating disorders, all of which that I will post about later because I have dealt with them all.

The depression is like a black hole. Or a black tunnel. It’s like a black tunnel with a light at the ends, the light is the depression. You go down the tunnel and as you get further into it becomes harder to deal with  and your mental state deteriorates and then you reach the light and it goes off and you are stuck in the hole – the depression – because the light is off and you can’t find the exit. I’m writing this in a very poetic way! It’s not poetic, I’ll tell you that!

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It’s something that we don’t talk about and it’s something that no one else asks about. Yes, I do tell people, I’ve said that I have depression to all my friends because I think they need to know it. That’s this year though. Last year when I first got the depression, I told no one. My friends last year didn’t know, my parents didn’t know, my teachers didn’t know. No on did. Because it was something that I didn’t talk about. Now, no one is talking about it. That us why I’m posting these, to create some awareness for mental health issues. Because they are important.

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Because we often don’t come out about our depression and we have good covers that have built up as we’ve gone down that tunnel, people often do not realise we actually are dealing with this. I can assure you, most people will. Not. Come. Out. About. Their. Depression. It is just too hard. Read Gayle Forman’s I Was Here, Meg didn’t tell Cody about her depression, that’s just what it’s like. Now, I don’t mean to  put all the pressure on people, but it is up to others to try to work out the depression. But not the doctors, therapists, social workers, they do nothing, trust me, I’ve been around them, but I haven’t let my cover down in front of them, haven’t let them in on my depression. Because – and read this – I. Was. In. On. What. They. Were. Trying. To. Do. So I could keep my cover up, make it better. I had my cover up stronger that before because I was prepared to see them. This just let the depression continue.

But when we keep those  covers up in front of those ‘helpers’ we are later left alone by the people we trust – our friends, our family. It’s the leaving it alone that fuels it and makes it hurt more. That endangers us, makes our covers stronger and forces the truth deeper. It makes the actual depression harder to manage and harder to escape from. It’s exactly what makes it harder to bear, makes it hurt more. Knowing we’re alone. Please, you have got to trust me on this, I’ve been there, I am there, will be there again. But it’s things like this – the support you amazing people are giving me – that helps. It’s not going to get rid of it because once you’ve gone down that tunnel, met that hole, it’s always there. But it can be helped. I’ve been there once, come out of it once, and I will do that again.

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Nothing helps us when we are alone. In order to get through it – overcome it – we need to know that we are not alone. I don’t mean, as I said before, having therapists etc. around, I mean having those close to us – our friends and family – to let us unravel, let us take of those covers. We’re good tat those covers though. It’s not as though they’re unpractised, we’re not just going to let them falter, drop. But that’s for another post. In order for us to let those covers drop, falter, we need someone to just randomly say to us, and I know this work because I’ve done it, discovered the depression, ‘let it down’. I know it sounds incredibly random, and it is, but saying it in a conversation about, IDK, dogs? It’s super random and we’re not ready for it. Our cover will falter then. Because it’s unexpected. Unlike when a doctor says it, then we’re prepared. We have our whole conversation scripted. When we have that one person discover the depression, we can talk to them It’s hard, but we can. It just takes that one person to ask.

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We let the depression seep back in. Or we let it in. And often we have the ability to stop it, right at the start, but we don’t and so it grows. And the second time, the third, it’s harder than the first, has more fuel, more control. It’s more dangerous. But at the start, it’s easier. Maybe it’s because we’ve walked that path before, gone down the tunnel. But it gets worse. I’ll post about that in another post because I think that this is enough. I’ve got about 1000 words on depression here and I don’t want you to stop reading because it’s getting up to the big points I want to make.

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I’ve got so many posts to do that my schedule is going to be screwed because I really don’t want to bombard you with this type of posts two days in a row when I post on Saturdays and Sundays so I am going to be posting every Sunday, Tuesday and Thursday until the end of the month because when I have so many things to post about. The next two posts will also be about depression because I want to cover a lot on this because I have struggled the most from it and it is the biggest mental illness out there (the one most people have) but it is also the least talked about and the biggest cause of suicide.

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Again, I will thank you for your support because it’s amazing and super warming for me to receive it. It makes me want to continue posting about it.

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And one last note, I have now turned vegetarian after a family…discussion last night. I’m the only one in my family and we used to be vegetarian until I was six so it shouldn’t be too hard on me. I’ve also stopped eating dairy after Easter when I ate milk chocolate and was pretty sick, and I’ve pretty much cut refined sugars out of my diet because they do. Not. Help. My. Mental. State. So, yeah, that’s a not on my diet changes for the end of a pretty deep post as it was!

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Again, thank you guys. And thank you all for not trolling on my last post. It feels amazing and motivates me to keep posting this sort of thing.

Feel free to contact me for whatever you need. I’m here for you all. Whether it be through Instagram (@emilylk3), comments (if you don’t want me to post it on here just say and I won’t publish it and will email you back about it, just leave your email address) or email (emily.theislandofme@gmail.com). I’ll get back to you, so don’t hesitate to contact me if you need someone to help or listen. I’m here for you just as you have said you are for me. ❤

this post is just over 1400 words now!

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#HonestApril Perfectionism and Hearing Loss

Hiya!

May I just say that you guys are amazing and I love you all so, so, so much. The amount of support I’ve got for coming out about my struggles is absolutely amazing. I’m not doing this for praise as I’ve had a few people say. I’m doing it because I’d really like to get my story out there and start to share what I have to say. So please, this is really hard for me and the hate is really hard for me to deal with.
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I am a huge perfectionist. Like, if something is not right/aesthetically pleasing, I will go spastic and spend as much time as I need to (I stayed up until midnight the other day because my school project wasn’t perfect) finish it! It’s very annoying but often very good for my work. But it’s not good for my mental state. Not one bit. So, for as long as I can remember, I have been this little perfectionist girl. Everything has to be just right for me to be happy with it. And often for me, it. Is. Not. Perfect. And I freak. Because I put so much pressure on myself as a perfectionist. My classmates call me perfectionist and have since our third math class this year (about a week after we’d met) when we were asked to draw a map of a village that we have been given a description for and I turned up with two copies, one black and white and the other coloured. It had buildings with tiled roofs and a bank that I had based off the bank of England. It was normal for me but for them they were stunned. I said this and they said that I was mental. I said thank you, I’d take that as a compliment. And I did.
But the work I’d turned in wasn’t my best and I wasn’t that happy with it. I could have done better, or so I thought. But I stayed up until 10:30PM the night before just to finish it and had realised at that time that I’d missed out a whole piece of information. And I went spastic. But that’s just a brief example. I stayed up until 11 the other night to finish my Social Studies assignment that was due in the next day.

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I put so much pressure on myself last year to win Dux that I ended up cutting my hearing out of my right ear completely. This was because of my perfectionism. I wanted it so much that I pushed myself to do as well as I could in my classes, no, better than I could possibly do. I pushed myself past my limits and hurt my brain so much that it decided to turn my hearing off. Oh, I’m doing a crap job of explaining it, aren’t I?
It’s called a non-organic hearing loss and pretty much it means that my brain got sick of me putting so much pressure on myself to achieve well and turned it off. So it means that my ear actually works but I just can’t hear out of it because of my brain’s stupid decisions. And since then I have had several different ENT (Ear, Nose and Throat) and hearing clinic appointments all of which cam to one conclusion: there is nothing that can be done to fix my hearing. Go figure. So I’ve got a hearing loss of 100% in my right ear because my stupid perfectionism turned the ear off. So it’s lots of fun.

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I thought that I’d start off this ‘challenge’ with this post about perfectionism because TBH most of my mental health problems are cased by my perfectionism. Most, not all.

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So, that was fun! No, actually it was a huge relief. I’ve been wanting for so long to get that off my chest and now that it’s done I’m really relieved.

Au revior mes chéris! (I’m doing French homework, don’t judge!)

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#HonestApril

It is April.

Captain obvious much! I’m starting on a sarcastic/jokey note but this post is serious so please read it ALL. So, I’ve decided that I’m going to start a post series thing all through April with me being super honest. I’ve been really wanting to talk about my mental health/stability for a while.

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I’m going to be posting all April about my mental health issues and how they’re caused/how I deal with them. So, I’m going to be posting about the sorts of mental illnesses that I’ve dealt with deal with on a day-to-day basis, the sort of eating disorders I have had/still have and why I get them. It’s sort of me just getting a lot off my chest and become more…myself with you.

I’ll be posting my Easter special tomorrow but after there I’ll be posting each Thursday and Sunday, I’ve scheduled the posts in my diary too so I can keep track of them. Look, I’m getting more organised for April too, I’ve also stopped eating healthy and so am beginning that again in April. I’m going off an a tangent.

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I’d really appreciate it if you guys would join me in sharing your stories with people on your blog or on social media (again, using my hashtag #HonestApril). Even if you don’t feel confident about posting about it feel free to get in touch with me via any of my contact forms. I’m here if you need to talk. Whether it be about bullying (because yes, that is something I will be talking about), mental illnesses, eating disorders, or any other shit, if you just need to talk, I’m here for you guys to listen. Now, just to start with, I swear a lot in normal life so I might swear a little in these posts. So, just be warned, I’m opening up for you guys so I’m sorry in advance.

Pretty much in short I’ll be posting about the things I’ve kept all quiet from you all. So just be nice to me because this is hard for me. The end.

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Oh yeah, guys, I realised that in my last post I didn’t put my tag questions and my nominees. So they’re below.

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My nominees:

Elm (because she deserves it because she was my wonderful 200th follower!!! Thanks lovely.)

and…

um…

Liv (because she’s amazing and comments on every. Single. Damned. Post. And that makes her wonderful and lovely and just an amazing person!)

BTW both of you lovelies I’ve just realised that I haven’t been following either of you and have just been checking your blogs, like, daily! So now I am! Comment if you’ve done this too! lol

And my questions:

*checks the number of questions* There are 11 questions, let’s go!

  1. What was the last book you read?
  2. What would you rate that book and why?
  3. How many followers do you have?
  4. What are you addicted to?
  5. How many blogs do you follow?
  6. What sport/s do you play?
  7. What’s your favourite sports team?
  8. Do you wear braces?
  9. Do you wear makeup daily?
  10. How many countries have you visited?
  11. One country you really want to visit?

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will you join me in my #HonestApril project? do you like the sound of this? oh, just talk to me lovelies!

BYEBYE!

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