Finding Viv

17/12/2020 I remember the day we met. We were 12, we were at school, on our lunch break.   You had the most beautiful bright blue eyes I had ever seen. The kind you could get lost in for all the eternities to come. Eyes so piercing, I couldn't tell if you were looking into me or through me. My stomach fell into a constant spin... Who is this person? As time went on, we had the typical school relationship. Together one minute, with another class mate the next. Yet, for almost 3 years, we always came back to eachother in the end... I'd say I couldn't tell you why, but I can. I absolutely can. You are so genuine, even at the age you were. You didn't give into the demands of secondary school, you weren't so naive to the social pressures that teenagers at school face. You were you. You were always the best version of you, wearing the most infectious smile. Your smile could light up the darkest, deepest of oceans and it was felt. Nobody was oblivious to the effect you ...

16/12/2020 Anger. Happiness. Suicide. Hyperness. On loop, for days, weeks, months. I was first diagnosed with depression at age 16. What was I doing at 16? I had found out my Dad was having an affair. I had to tell my Mum, she's the one who keeps my world turning.  My Dad left us. My Mum worked 12 hours shifts to keep the house wr lived in with my little brother. My little brother was 11. I would cook his dinner and help with his homework before revising for my exams. My Mum would come home, have a dinner consisting of a cigarette and a glass of wine, before carrying herself to bed, only to cry herself to sleep. I fell asleep listening to her every night. I was 16. My brother went to my Dad's house for the summer, my Mum packed his bags, expecting him to come home. My Dad's never booked his flights and my Mum never got to say goodbye. I was out one evening, at my then boyfriend's house for dinner, when I get a call from my Mum. She was drunk, not making much sense. S...

15/12/2020  There are many reasons why we choose to do the things we do. I've never been good at expressing myself... None of us are, not really.  We, as humans, are terrified of vulnerability, of letting people in. You can be completely open and tell someone everything about yourself, but can you honestly say you gave them every detail? Did you tell them how important felt in that moment? Did you describe to them the emotions you were feeling? Did you tell them the exact moment your heart was broken in two? This blog is mostly for me, you see, I've never been able to keep a diary, I never thought I was interesting enough. But this isn't a diary, this is a reflection. A reflection of everything who has made me the person I am today. But let's get to the point. I have Bipolar Disorder and I find opening up extremely uncomfortable and as a result of this, I still don't understand what my triggers are. I still don't know myself, not really. I feel so much happiness...