Scrambled Eggs

My brain feels like it is solely made of scrambled eggs. I have had a very unlucky week, been turned down for a job that I was banking everything on (to move on with my life) and my egotistical guitarist decided to fire me from my own band…URGH.  Im stuck in limbo, with nothing going for me and nothing to do currently. I have been too ill to hold down a full time job, mainly because of the nausea and exhaustion I battle everyday.  Every time I find something to hold onto, it disappears from my clutches before I have even started.

BUT STILL, I try to take pleasure every day in the small things.  I managed to eat a bag of crisps today without crunching them up and pouring them into my mouth, usually my OCD doesn’t allow for these games.  I am also currently drinking a cup of tea that I made in my boyfriend’s shared house/crack den. Literally it is disgusting in here, and for someone with chronic OCD its a nightmare. I haven’t had a cup of tea here in over a year.  I mean I will admit that I have cheated, I brought a clean cup from my house … AND my own tea bag.  I STILL CONSIDER THIS A TRIUMPH.

I have been reading other blogger’s experiences with mental health, and it is comforting to find other people with exactly the same problems as me, although I obviously know that 1 in 4 people suffer with depression and anxiety, it is nice to actually read their stories.

I refuse to be beaten.

Lonely at 4am

It’s 4am,and even though my wonderful man is sleeping peacefully beside me I feel irrevocably lonely. I recently had to turn down a fantastic job offer as the mental health clinic that I attend does not offer an out of hours service, and the psychotherapist they have begrudgingly given me only works ten hours a week. Tell me why is it that people with mental health have to put their life on hold to try and get better? There was absolutely no way in which I could alert my new job to my needs without being instantly dismissed. Unlike people with physiological issues who can freely attend the doctor without fear of being judged and pushed aside.

Now I wake up every morning wondering why the fuck I am awake. Really! Why? What am I going to achieve in the day? What is my purpose? Currently I feel that my only purpose is to makes cups of tea and buy chocolate for my boyfriend so he has something nice when he comes home from work. What do I get out of the day though?

I cry myself to sleep most nights, I feel hopeless and lost. It has been mentioned to me on more than one occasion that I may be “a risk to myself”. To those people I say, ask yourself this. If you (for the last twelve years) had suffered with uncontrollable obsessive compulsive disorder which makes even drinking water hard, panic attacks and I insatiable nausea. When I say nausea I mean 24/7 not a minute’s break. Would you not have completely lost your sense of self worth? Would you not feel completely hopeless? Would you want to be told repeatedly that everything is going to be OK? Would you not want to be hit by a god damn bus?

Yeah I didn’t think so…

So here I am alone with my thoughts again. I wish I could switch them off. Someone help me. Please.

Love from Lexienewman 💜

Hi I’m Crazy. Your Name Is?

This is me. Do I look crazy? I certainly feel like I am.

I decided to start this blog as something fun, something to poke fun at my mental health issues… Hey maybe one day I will even see the funny side, right? I hope that everyone can get something from this, be it being able to laugh at their own problems, or being more empathetic to those who suffer from (as I like to call them) ‘BRAIN FUCKS’. Makes it sound less ominous I think, “Sorry I can’t come to work today, I have a brain fuck”.

So I will tell you a little about my own brain fucks as an ice breaker, and hopefully we can begin to share good days and bad days together. I really hope so, we need to support each other as having these illnesses can be so isolating and lonely.

Anyway… I have for all my life dealt with OCD (actual OCD not I need to alphabetize my DVD’s OCD, and by the way FUCK those people who claim to have OCD when they don’t, its offensive), anxiety and depression, which stems from my severe emetophobia. Queue sad music. A few years ago I thought it had gone away forever, but alas, it was not to be. So for the last three years I have suffered with daily panic attacks, constant nausea and stomach pain (actually cannot remember the last time I didn’t feel sick), fatigue, headaches, night  sweats, sleep apnea… shall i go on?

Anyway all this has not been conducive in feeling happy and energetic. You know what the worse part is though? I have lost a lot of weight and therefore lost my bum!  My thighs now bleed into my back, I know what you are thinking.. SEXY AS FUCK, and you would be right, because everyone wants to look like a meth addict. My nickname previously was ‘cherry bum’ so yes, my bum was fucking fantastic and I knew it, everyone knew it, it was practically a tourist attraction. I would like to add that I also lost a fabulous pair of tits, but I was never blessed with anything up top, so that hasn’t changed much They are now just EVEN smaller, but as my friend Mikey always used to say “Al, more than a handful is just a waste”, now I just wonder if the hand of a toddler counts? Any thoughts?

I stumble through life currently as a walking hand grenade, I never know when I am going to go off which I like to think makes me dark and mysterious to those around me, you know because I am so tortured and withdrawn? In reality that kind of shit only worked for Edward Cullen, moody bastard.

Anyway that is a little bit about me, I hope you enjoy my warped sense of humour, and maybe, it you too are afflicted with metal health illnesses you can relate to something here and see the funny side for 2 minutes.

Oh lastly, and this will cheer you up. It is proven that the large majority of mental health illnesses only happen to those who are incredibly creative and intelligent. So you are a fucking GENIUS, go figure.