A Diary From Noone

She spoke but no one heard, every scream seemed a whisper, and so she took pen to paper...

Tag: #medication

Kween Like Lizzo…

Wish I could be a kween like Lizzo,
Looking fly,
Throwing shapes at the disco.
Instead I am lying low,
Locked up in the dark,
Not living my best life,
And letting my juices flow.
Don’t judge me because I ain’t a size zero,
Thick thighs not out,
But covered up,
Not alfresco.
Think you know me,
Well I don’t think so,
You just assume,
But I ain’t filling trollies full of junk in Tesco.
I’m sick so I’m full of medication,
Instead of healing,
I’m feeling ashamed because of society’s pushed and unrealistic misrepresentation.
My weight should not be the topic of conservation,
Put your energy into some other dedication,
Hold back and have some reservation.
If my weight is a worry for the nation,
You’ll need to get a life and take a vacation.
Word vomit,
Throwing hate,
No hesitation,
Girls got feelings,
You just assume,
With zero investigation.
Don’t judge me,
Don’t comment,
If there is no invitation,
Keep your obnoxious judgement to yourself,
It should be you in isolation.

Who The Fuck Cares, But I Don’t know You!

I know you think me rude,
But that opinion is misconstrued,
As it is you that intrudes,
I don’t respond because I don’t know you!
A Hi here,
A Hi there,
And I’m quite sick of it,
God knows,
Who exactly are you?
Years have passed,
And my memories of you did not last.
The truth is,
I’d rather you stopped all of these messages,
As our “relationship” has ended,
Whatever platonic,
In your eyes ecstasy we may have had,
You are a figure of my past,
Time and dignity may have stopped you,
But I still receive messages of new,
And I still have no fucking clue,
Just who the hell are you?
Being terribly British,
I have not found the right words,
As to not offend,
But terminally end,
Whatever we had,
That is driving me mad,
As I don’t have a clue,
Just who the fuck are you?
So I have just not replied,
Avoiding offence, confrontation or violence,
But please,
Let this sink in,
My silence,
It’s deliberate,
A polite rejection,
Of your eager attention,
As I don’t want to upset you,
But you must acknowledge,
I just don’t know you.

Black Girls Don’t Cry… Returns

As a self appointed mental health advocate, I have been fortunate enough to be approached by the BBC a few times throughout my crazy journey of ill mental health and my latest opportunity was being able to share parts of my story via the BBC Radio4 and Made In Manchester documentary, “Black Girls Don’t Cry”. Due to resounding success, it is available once more. It airs January 3rd at 8pm BBC Radio4 but is also currently available on iPlayer. Simply Google, “Black Girls Don’t Cry” or https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b0b9zfws and you shall be able to hear two other brave black ladies as well as myself, share our stories of ill mental health. Catch it while you can. It really gives great food for thought.

My Condition…

I have a condition,
I am super skinny,
And beautiful.
When I look in the mirror,
My reflection is wrong!
When people comment on my weight,
Their opinions are wrong!
When I get on the scales,
The numbers are wrong!
I am not big boned,
I am strong!
I am not fat,
I am simply perfect!
Every man’s wet dream!
All women are green eyed with envy,
When they look at me!
This is self diagnosed,
And perhaps delusional,
But if I believe in it enough,
It may actually,
Truely become my condition!


Scroll to the bottom if you would prefer to listen, otherwise… happy reading. Please share this one, it means an awful lot to me. Thanks for visiting, come back soon!? XX


If the last four years are anything to go by,
Excuse me as I start to cry,
Because my psychologist told me that I will have this monster of an illness for the entirety of my life!
I see her every three months or so,
Go in,
Come out,
Who knows what the fuck we talk about!?
I am just another number,
Case load,
For her to box and shelf,
To prove to the bankers’ that I have been seen and “helped”,
But she hasn’t,
Helped me, that is!
Help ignites hope,
But she blew out my candle when she condemned me to an eternity of helpless misery.
I shout my woes,
Confess my sins,
Tell them all of the out’s and in’s,
But they neither see nor hear me,
Not one of all of the professionals that supposedly support me,
They just give me more pills to sooth me,
Silence me!
People in my very small social and immediate family network ask that I at least communicate with them before battling with self-destruction,
But how can I purposefully burden my friends and family?
Firstly, If I disclose all the intricate details of my intense suffering,
I fear that they may section me,
And believe me,
I have been institutionalised enough times already!
The full truth,
The whole truth,
Nothing but the truth,
Will make people not want to speak or listen to me.
And so I write,
And I write,
And I write.
I may not be as articulate and witty as the professional’s,
Lack in vocabulary somewhat,
Be short of the spark that creates recognition and popularity,
A magnitude of followers,
The camera skills to go viral,
The voice of an angel,
Musicality like Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart,
But this is my art!
Speaking from the heart,
Everything that I say is true.
It may be a matter of preaching to the converted for now,
I see you nodding your head,
Taking in every word that I have said,
Thank you,
Give me an Amen!?
The budget cuts in the mental health system,
The up rise in mental health patients,
The increase in the number of people with mental health problems on the streets,
Scrapping for food to eat,
As if they don’t already have enough problems.
The black hole between help in the community and hospital admittance,
The loss of mental health control,
Less beds,
More med’s,
The increase in suicide!
I struggle to cope every single day!
I see and hear things that other people can’t,
Lucky them!
I don’t eat,
I don’t sleep,
I don’t shower,
Brush my hair or teeth,
Or I eat too much,
Sleep too much,
OCD kicks in and you could seriously eat off my dustbin!
I cry,
I panic,
I hallucinate,
I self-harm,
I hate myself,
And contemplate suicide most days!
If you have to ask why?
You haven’t been listening!
If you find my revelations a bit intense,
Then I am truly sorry,
But this is the reality,
My reality,
My life story forever more,
As my never ending diagnosis of;
And Psychosis has been bestowed upon me for eternity!
I long for the times when I could distinguish the difference between bad days and good.
I once had the capability to actually believe in myself.
I have always had ill mental health,
First therapy session at twelve,
On pills since sixteen,
But there was still enough space in my life to dream,
Even moments when I conquered,
But I am no longer on this planet for me,
But for the people who love me!
Even though they may not fully know or understand me,
I can forgive them for that,
I do not fully know or understand myself,
But for some reason,
Some amazing people do actually love me!
And so I am very confused by this but recognise their love,
And therefor I am extremely thankful and lucky.
I fear and feel for those that have no one,
Those that receive no love at all and feel weak because of this.
Think about how isolating it is for those that have absolutely no one to share their experiences with.
There are people that have no one to aid their struggles with physical and psychological pain.
It is my pleasure and self-administrated duty to share with and represent my fellow Borderline’s,
The Anxious,
My neighbours The Schizophrenic’s,
The Bi-Polar’s,
And all of the above,
All of you,
The list is as long as my battered and bruised arms.
It takes personal experience to understand sometimes,
But you do not need a degree to practice listening or conjure empathy.
You do not need to be mentally ill yourself to acknowledge how integral mental health is in our society.
As a result of increased and continuous budget cuts in a financially deprived yet desperate area of NHS Health,
People are dying every single day.
This is a fact that deeply saddens me to say,
But this is an increasing problem that will not just calm down and go away.
We must unite and demand change.
Demand change.
With change we can help people very much in need.
With change we can potentially cut down the suicide.
With change tomorrow may not seem as grey!

Healthy body, Healthy Mind!?

A healthy body may ignite a healthy mind, perhaps healthier mind is more realistic, but a healthy body will most definitely make me less self conscious, lighter on my feet to suit my petite hight and quite possibly enable me to feel hott again!
Of cause with my mental health, sometimes I am bed bound. I become physically and emotionally redundant and no fighting spirit can set me free but I have lost so much of my inner self these past few years, it would be nice to recognise the reflection staring back at me when I look into the mirror, currently I am repulsed and it makes me feel sick!
So… a round of applause please!? Despite the stress of having to find a new home, family being unwell, my usual manuscript of problems and the bloody snow… I got my ass back to the gym today. I have exercised the last ten days out of eleven and been strict on Calorie intake. I really hope to see a new (perhaps also old) version of me by the end of the year. Its not all about vanity and bucks, it is more about feeling like 100 bucks!

Botched Up Bodies…

I have always hated my breasts. They have always been large in size but the bigger the natural breast, the less kind gravity can be. That is a fact. I have always blamed my mother for encouraging me to sleep without a bra on as a teenager, whilst developing. Truth be told, I doubt that notion made to much difference, but it is easier to blame your mum then an anonymous God or fate!
I have always said, that if I win the lottery or come into money, I will be straight down the plastic surgeon’s. Boob uplift, liposuction, laser cellulite remover, the list goes on, the whole shebang! People say just exercise more or eat less. People say an awful lot! The reality is, I can honestly say that all of my ailments are not self inflicted. I do exercise. I eat rather well. Looking back at my pictures in my twenties, I looked fabulous, but even then I was body conscious. People have always picked on me for my weight, even as a child. Those voices are never silenced and will haunt me to the day I die. My issues are not just physical but mental because of being traumatised by criticism about my shape, size, appearance, looks, being dumped by partners or nagged by family members. I never got to truly and confidently enjoy my size when it was rather good. I used to have a natural four pack! I doubt that is ever coming back. One can wish, but actually, I would rather four kids.
Age has of cause played it’s part, like it does upon everyone else, but also depression has ignited comfort eating in the past, I used to sleep eat, sleep walk to the cupboards, snack and wake up feeling sick from poorly digested food and crumbs in my bed. Thank goodness that stopped, but now with BPD, depression, anxiety, psychosis, I have to take an awful lot of medication to steady my mood and weight gain is a side effect.
It is no secret that I self harm. I believe this makes me a little less screamish then most, but watching the inspiring weight dropper Josie Gibson under the knife on celebrities botched up bodies, the surgery really made me feel sick. Josie was asleep through all of it and woke up looking great but I am now in two minds. Not like I can afford surgery anyway but it has definitely opened my eyes to the seriousness of cosmetic surgery. Surgery is surgery and always life threatening.
I suppose that if I was fortunate enough to truly make a decision, under the knife or not under the knife, I am single and thirty-two with suicidal tendencies, if I am going to die, I wouldn’t mind dying whilst trying to look hot. I would wake up hot or wake up not. Chances are, it would be the first, then maybe I could find a man to love me, in this cruel, judgemental and shallow world that we live in. Most importantly, after thirty-two years of failing, maybe, just maybe, I could learn to love myself. I have a lot of love for everyone else but have never loved myself. If nothing else, it would be great to embrace that feeling.

You Fat Cow 🐮

Do something about it!
I know all about it,
I don’t need you to speak of it,
Or shout it!
I got scales all over my body,
That’s why I ain’t with nobody.
A skinny girl in a fat woman’s body,
My reflection is distorted,
I don’t know this body.
I fantasise all day long,
About physically changing from what I am now,
Which is wrong.
It’s the tablets that have changed my physicality,
But taking them is essential,
A practicality.
I got fat stashed,
Like a millionaire has cash,
Five foot two and nowhere to hide it.
From my head to my chest and my knees and feet,
Weight has conquered,
I admit my defeat.
They say beauty comes from within,
But we know that’s a lie,
Who are they kidding!


I would firstly like to say that the internet is full of absolute nonsensical, unrealistic, inaccurate drivel! The modern generation depends so heavily on the internet, worldwide web, whatever you want to call it. A simple click of a button here and a click of a button there and anything and everything seems possible. Ask a question and an answer of some form, you shall receive. There is no guarantee that your search will provide you with accurate and truthful information, but you wont be left hanging, it will definitely provide you with something. Even better, it takes seconds. You don’t have to spend hours on end trawling through the dictionary, treasures, atlas, bible, historical literature because one’s computer can do it all for you. The only trouble, well perhaps not only, but it certainly ranks high, the trouble with the internet, you have no idea who has provided that information, where it comes from, how accurate it maybe, opinions get mixed up with fact, just because they provide you with something in black and white does not make it factual. You wouldn’t knowingly take medical advice off an architect for example, but there lies the problem, the internet has no face, perhaps that is exactly what you are doing, when the pop up answer to your search engine question comes up, you go along with it no questions asked. Perhaps you should ask, who the hell is answering my question? The internet is great, do not get me wrong. You can practically do anything and everything on line. You can buy clothes, food, music. You can talk to your friends. You can watch the news. We literally don’t have to leave the house but don’t believe everything that you see or read. The internet can lead you down a rabbit hole and into a maze of self diagnosis, inaccurate tests with nonsense theories, fraud. It isn’t as shiny and spectacular as they have you believe. I guess you just need to keep your wits about you and acknowledge that a real football match outside come rain or shine is healthier then a computer game that relies on fingers and thumbs. A night out with friends and face to face conversation is undoubtedly better then cruising social media all evening and hiding behind a picture taken over a decade ago! A trip to your doctor, optician and/or dentist in person is detrimental to one’s health and undeniably better then cruising the likes of NHS direct for example. Please note, no disrespect to NHS direct services intended.

Hypothetical response, “What about my anxiety? It prevents me from leaving the house, the internet keeps me in touch with the world!”

I completely understand from first hand experience, how difficult leaving the house can be. How much easier it is to confide in your search engine and history rather then actually communicate in person with another being. I know how hard it can be to say things out loud, to ask for help. That is why I created this website, I write my poems and share my thoughts via blogs because, yes it is therapeutic for me but most importantly I don’t want you to feel alone, misunderstood, unheard. You are not alone reader, I promise to always endeavourer to understand you and will always listen. I speak the truth from my heart. I share because I want to help you, others, everyone. I speak from first hand experience, I am not making things up. You can relate to me. Obviously bare in mind that we are all different and unique in our own way and what works for me may not work for you and vice versa but I share non the less and you can draw from it as you wish.

I have recently been considering visual and audio blogging via You Tube. I have spent most of today checking out what (in regards to mental health, particularly depression, Emotional unstable personality disorder, anxiety hallucinations and self harm, the problems that I have, my reality.) is already out there and I was surprised to not find that much of relevance. I would say that people often enjoy watching and or listening, if you are having trouble concentrating due to hallucinations those options can be easier than reading. I believe that this may be an avenue that I need to adventure. The trouble is, after all of the technical stuff that I will need to figure out, video footage makes things seem so much more real. No alias name like, “Noone” to hide behind. The idea of exposing myself visually makes me feel vulnerable, anxious and panicky but I am trying to remember that the messages that I intend to share are so much more important then any of my self image hang ups. Mental illness isn’t pretty and it doesn’t smell like roses. It’s raw, painful, limiting and ugly but it isn’t yours alone, nor mine, strength in numbers. We may not be able to beat it but we can accept and fight it together.

One thing that I saw when I was researching was this glamorous, young and beautiful woman explaining about how she hadn’t blogged for a few weeks because she was depressed but all was now well and she was ready to blog again. I am trying my best not to question how quickly her depression both appeared and disappeared, I have been struggling with it for a good sixteen years and counting but who am I to judge? As I have said before, we are all different. Not one remedy can cure us all. The girl spoke of how she didn’t believe in taking any kind of anti-depressant and how she was an advocate for healthy eating and healthy living, that was the only medication that she needed. She was talking about herself and what works for her but I found it offensive. Yes to healthy eating. Yes to healthy living and a healthy lifestyle but don’t reject the idea of medication. We strive to cope, understand, fit in, smile, feel well and if medication helps to enable such qualities of life, I don’t think completely dismissing medication is wise. I also don’t believe in the magic pill or that taking copious amounts of medication will cure us all together but one must explore all options for themselves and find a happy medium.

For those of you that read, watch and listen to blogs on line, please always be mindful that we are not all cut from the same cloth, what works for one may not work for you. Some people blog for the likes of fame, money, popularity. They may discuss things that they don’t know or care about. I don’t vow to know everything about the pro’s and con’s of mental health but I promise that I care, and I welcome you to accompany me on this crazy mental health journey. You may hide behind me, I will show face for all of us. Together we can share and draw upon our experiences in order to learn, educate and move forward.

It was a long one, thanks for reading.


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