You are a precious individual. You are not a statistic, a number on a scale, ruler… you are you. You are unique and blessed to be alive.
I know it’s probably easy to scroll down and pretend you haven’t read this, pretend that nothing is going to save you - that there is nothing left to live for. Let me tell you the truth. There is. There is everything to live for.
There are the beautiful changing seasons, walks along the coast, winter nights curled up in too-big jumpers. There are the members of your family, your friends, your acquaintances, people you pass on the street nearly every day but never had the chance to say hello to yet.
Remember that things have a habit of getting worse before they get better.
And if you can survive the worst, the best will feel absolutely amazing.
From personal experience, and I haven’t had it all that great in the recent past, things DO GET BETTER. It’s a long road of waiting lists, different medications, different therapists, different hobbies, ways of distracting yourself… it’s a long road, yes, but it’s meaningful. Enjoy the journey as best as you can, I know you are longing to reach the end but this road will teach you about yourself, and when you look back, you will discover that your darkest times made you the strong person you are today.
I’m writing this message to all of you.
I’ve been absent from Our Angel Olivia for a long while now, but I’m back, and now I’m sharing the love. I’m telling you that you don’t have to do it alone. You don’t have to be afraid, you can reach out anonymously or personally to us, and it doesn’t stop there. You can tell a doctor, a teacher, a friend, a parent, a brother, a sister, a cousin… don’t suffer alone.
We’re here for you.
All my love
Hey! You can do it, everyone. I want to tell you about my recovery as proof that you do get through it and come out the other end. Thanks to the WONDERFUL admins on this site, who have become my friends and almost family, and thanks to all the followers, I had something to live for. Something to get better for. And now here I am.
I’m not going to lie: it’s not been easy. I’ve had a rocky road, been in and out of hospital and I’m currently being treated by the home treatment team. They have stabilised me and I have gotten over some of my addictive behaviours and allowed me to enjoy myself, for once in my life.
Tonight, I’m going out to record some tunes on my violin. I’m making a CD! I didn’t have the strength to do that before, heck I didn’t even get it out of the case for a month or two because I just couldn’t face it. But life takes you in strange directions and strange places. I reignited my passion in poetry, and won a local competition to write a poem about birds.
Suddenly I was me again. I went on holiday with my family while I was very ill and needed constant support, but I got through, and I enjoyed myself. Looking back through the photos I see there were moments that I broke through, shone out from behind the mask of psychosis and depression.
I am happy today. I understand fully that tomorrow might be different, but I am embracing the fact that today I am content. There are still symptoms of my mental illness there, but I am coping with them. I have got to a place where I am happy, and I think it only goes up from here.
Acceptance is the key.
Accepting you have a mental health problem is a hard step, one I have only recently taken. I don’t start conversations with “Hi I’m Louise and I suffer with….blah blah blah”, but I am not ashamed to say that my mental health is not as good as it could be. It’s OK to have a mental illness. It shouldn’t be taboo and no it shouldn’t be glamourised - it should just be OK. So accept yourself as you are, look in the mirror and say it to yourself. You are ok, no matter what and you’re going to get through this.
I hope this post inspires you to keep going strong.
It’s a rough ride but you get there in the end, it’s a tall mountain but you’ll reach the top, you will. And if you just need that little bit of extra support, reach out to us. We are a team of wonderful, caring individuals and so are our followers. If you have a problem, REACH OUT.
And here is a message to you all: You are beautiful, kind, caring, wonderful, inspirational human beings and you should go easy on yourself. Do your best, and if in doubt reach out for help. Someone will answer you.
All my love. (and how I’ve missed helping out on this blog)
Saaaame here! These are a couple things I’ve found work well for myself through my own experimentation and various doctors recommendations!
Cereal Is Your Best Friend
You have control over so many things with cereal. You can change the fat percentage of the milk you use so it’s thicker and more rich. If you’re allergic to milk, you can find all sorts of rice milks that are wonderfully nutrient rich.
Slice fruit into your cereal. Bananas and berries are the best for this!
I have nut allergies, but if you’re okay with them you can add chopped walnuts or almonds as well! The more you add, the better.
Make a Fruit Smoothie each Morning
These are excellent to drink throughout the day and can really add to your caloric and nutritional intake without you noticing!
What I like to add to mine:
- Brown Rice
- Orange Juice or Lemonade
- Beets or Beet Juice
- Maple Syrup
Make lots, and put it in a thermal container or some kind. Carry it around with you throughout the day, and drink it like water!
Dried Fruit and Rice Cakes
Both excellent snacking choices. They rest easy in your stomach, aid with digestion, and can be full of calories and nutrients. Dried fruit is all ready packed full of all the nice things you need. Rice cakes are pretty plain, but again they’re very light themselves, and you can add to them! Try microwaving or toasting them with some shredded cheese, mushrooms, onions and spinach!
Any kind of fiber supplement that works for you, get it, add it to your water. Drinking lots of water and having a good fiber intake will help you feel less bloated and you’ll have an all around easier time with adding to what you’re eating!
Love you guys! Hope these couple of things help. As I add to it, I’ll expand and reblog this list! :)
Jeffrey has now joined the blog as an admin with me!
Officially an advice blog where you can ask all your questions about relationships. Sex, enemies, friendships, love— you name it— directly to a long term relationship couple.
Also, excellent in that all of your seeking a male perspective can have that in Jeff!
Happy travels to all, and
our ask box is always open!
I am sick to the brim of people going “you don’t know what it’s like to receive a bruise, you don’t know what a domestic situation is like, you’ve never had a real broken nose”. Nothing usually angers me but a bunch of self-righteous assholes reblogging that post that adding on their various tales of woe, their own domestic relationships, seeing it happen as a child, having a best friend go through it, then adding a snide passage insulting me in a hideously patronising manor as if I have no clue what I’ve done has really tipped me over the edge.
I’ve remained cool headed throughout this entire debacle. I’ve accepted the insults, I’ve provided evidence (which I felt was necessary due the momentum the post gained and the amount of people vilifying me) and I’ve not let it affect me. I’m not going to delete my blog, delete the post or change my URL because doing that would fuel the fire of people saying that I’m lying.
But I am going to say one thing. I know what it’s fucking like. I didn’t feel the need to share this because it’s not about what I went through, but I looked at that girl and I saw myself three years ago. She was incoherent from grief at the thought of her partner leaving her despite the abuse I witnessed. I was the only person at that bus stop while it was happening. At the end of the confrontation, which lasted 20 minutes, there was another male there, but he showed no reaction to the situation, and didn’t even meet my eye when I was holding my face asking saying ‘ow’ and crying after the couple had walked off despite me trying to keep her with me. When I saw the abuser spit in the young girls face right in front of me I stepped in without even thinking. In my mind there were no consequences to consider, I was overcome with unbridled rage and would not see this girl publicly humiliated like I had been so many times. My reaction wasn’t calculated, I didn’t even think.
Just over three years ago I was going out for a meal with my friends who were in a football team and their girlfriends, one of which was my best friend. I had been friends with them all for about three years. I’d asked permission to go out. I’d had my outfit scrutinised. I’d been questioned on who was there. The meal happened without incident and I got a taxi home with a female friend who lived a road before mine. We both got out at her house and I walked back to mine. I opened the door and instantly received a blow to the face and fell into the wall.
“Who was that boy you were in the taxi with?”
I was confused. There was no way he would have seen the taxi, and besides, it was only myself and my female friend.
“Don’t you fucking lie to me.”
I was picked up and thrown into the bathroom where my head smashed against the toilet. I had by clothes physically torn off me. My underwear was ripped into two. He emptied my bag and took my bank card (which he knew the pin to to make sure i didn’t spend more than £30 per week) then slammed my head on the floor. I blacked out.
I must have been out for about five minutes. I woke up and instantly vomited. It was pitch black and I wasn’t aware of my surroundings. As soon as I awoke I was filled with not the sheer horror not of my injuries, but with the horror that he had left me. I tried the front door but I had been locked into my own house. He had taken my keys. He arrived back a few minutes later, throwing me to the floor again and accusing me of spending all of the money in my account. I knew there was just over £200 in my account, but he brandished a printed receipt showing me there was nothing in there. Again I was absolutely baffled and promised I wasn’t lying. He told me he’d put my mobile phone down the drain. I was pulled across the floor into the lounge by my arm and spat on. He smashed the landline phone against the wall.
“You are pathetic, you’re a dirty little slut who would be nothing if your whore of a mother hadn’t died and left you that house.”
A taxi pulled up outside my house and he left to get in, along with the majority of his belongings he had packed before I’d got home. I ran outside and pleaded with the driver to help me. I said that I’d been hit and I was very hurt and please could he help me. The man in the passenger seat laughed and told to shut up.
“Don’t listen to her mate, she’s mental. I just caught her getting a taxi home with another bloke and she can’t accept the fact I’m leaving, the dirty little whore.”
The driver just looked at me, my face a mess, standing holding a towel around me and went “sorry love, I don’t wanna get involved” and then drove off.
I didn’t know what to do. My head was throbbing. I couldn’t see very clearly. I was overcome with grief that this was it, he was finally gone. Usually after a beating he would hold me until I stopped hurting and would explain to me in a loving and kind voice that if I didn’t behave the way I did he wouldn’t have to hurt me. But this time was different, I felt like I’d been hollowed out. He had gone and I could do nothing to get him back.
I had an old mobile phone on a drawer somewhere. I found it and put it on charge, then unraveled a list of phone numbers I kept in my underwear drawer. I phoned my friend and said something had happened, and asked him to come over. I had confided in him before but he lost his patience with me when I kept retracting my statements with the police. Nevertheless he came to see me and didn’t ask what had happened. I fell asleep shortly after his arrival and he left in the morning without really saying anything. As he left, my neighbours came round. They said they’d heard shouting and crying but didn’t want to get involved. I explained to one of my neighbours what had happened and urged me to contact the police. I had nothing to lose. Maybe if he saw what he’d done to me he’d be sorry and come back? I obliged, and I gave a rather shoddy statement a few hours later.
My injuries were photographed over the next week as they worsened. I was humiliated to go out in public with them. He was arrested. I had said I didn’t want to press charges but due to my injuries it was out of my hands. He was arrested and we were to have no contact with each other. An injunction was placed on him. He wasn’t to come within 100 meters of me, my house or my work. His mother collected his belongings, whilst screaming obscenities at me.
I would like to say that things ended there. I would like to say that I realised the dangers I was putting myself in and just walked away. But that’s not what happened. I would phone him from a withheld number just so he would pick up and I could hear his voice. I pretended to be his sister on the phone when I rang his work. I retracted my statement. Nothing came of it. And I can’t explain the twisted relief I felt when he came back to me. I told no one, I was either with him or waiting for him to finish work.
I escaped the relationship four months later after he went through my mobile phone and saw harmless text messages from a male friend. This time, he left instantly and went to the police station to say I had assaulted him. He had ripped his t shirt and clawed his own chest. The officer who arrested and interviewed me was luckily on my side and believed me. She had dealt with domestic violence herself and understood what was happening.
That was the last time I saw him. I retracted my statement and decided i just wanted to forget the whole thing and move on. But even months later when I was in a new relationship I found myself pining for him, wanting his approval still. Wanting to know why I wasn’t good enough, why I’d been hit, if I’d behaved differently he might have stayed. I only really got completely over it in January of last year, when a girl messaged me on Facebook asking me to help her. She was in a relationship with him and had been for eight months of he and I being together. She was who he was with that valentines night I spent alone and confused because he’d said he was working yet his boss told me he wasn’t there. He had convinced her that I was some crazy girl who kept getting him arrested because I couldn’t accept the fact he had left me. I helped this girl leave him, and it gave me closure and made me realise what had happened to me. It took months, and as she and i spent more time together i truly began to hate him. I could admit I was over it and I realised the horrible situation I had been in. I was relieved I had gotten out if it.
And that’s what I saw in the girl. 18 years old, skeletal because she believed she was fat, terrified out of her wits that he would leave her. That is why I stepped in. I wouldn’t stand for this girl to continue feeling the pain I knew only too well. I was overcome with this mothering instinct to take care of her, to get her away from this man. And because I had fought with my demons and laid them to rest, I wasn’t afraid of the man.
I’ve been told that she is now back with family and she is unharmed physically. She’s been assessed by doctors and is on the road to getting the help that she needs. Whether your opinion of me stepping into the situation is for or against, I could not control my reaction when I saw what was happening.
So for those of you telling me I am attention seeking and I am disgusting and have no idea what it’s like - I can promise you that I do, and that’s why I got involved.
I absolutely had to reblog this, not just for the sake of this needed to be said, needed to be put out there, but because I also really feel the need to chime in here.
This same situation, in so many ways, is exactly what I went through. As many of you know, I was in a relationship with a guy that I was madly in love with, and was also raping me as much as five times a day for months on end. When we broke up, and I had moved away, he got together with another girl.
A absolutely, breath taking, BEAUTIFUL girl.
Despite being in a relationship with Jeff at that time, I was completely devastated.
Furthermore, I felt like because of this, suddenly nothing abusive about that relationship was valid any longer. I felt like the two of them were happy together, they had moved in together, she left her home eight hours away to be with him. A friend of mine who knew what I went through had e-mailed her telling her to get out, and she just flipped shit. My boyfriend had told her I had psychosis problems, that I had been admitted to a psychward before, that I had no idea what has happening— ever.
Of course, none of that was true. None of it at all, but why wouldn’t she believe him? She had no idea who I was, and that was someone she loved and admired telling her those things.
I almost started to believe it, weirdly enough. I felt like I was over exaggerating that entire relationship, or in the very least, maybe it was all just me. Maybe it was really my fault. Maybe if I had been less sexual as I was sleeping, or if I had dressed more conservatively, none of that would have had to have happened.
Sure enough, a year later, he breaks up with her, and immediately is in a relationship with another girl.
A friend of mine messaged me in a bit of a panic, worrying about this girl he’d never met. He wanted me to get in contact with her somehow, and just ask if she was okay.
So, I did. I messaged her over Facebook, as non-prying as I could, and just said “Hey. I’m not doing this to start anything, to butt into your life or be rude— I’m doing this because I’m simply concerned. I’m not going to tell anyone I contacted you, I just want to know if you’re okay.”
She messaged me back. She wasn’t okay.
Turns out, he had done the same thing to her throughout the whole relationship. We became really quite close, we still are, but it was a struggle through the next few months to follow that to try and keep her out of the relationship. She was glued to him. Even though he had assaulted the girl he left her for as well, even though he had done this to many girls, she was still pining for him.
I knew that feeling well, and I did all I could to help her.
Eventually, we all ended up reporting. Nothing was done about it, unfortunately it’s not that easy here in Canada. But, the important thing is, is that it’s there. It’s in his file, all these reports that were made from girls I didn’t even know, so hopefully as it continues happening eventually someone down the line will have enough to bring him to court.
But, she still wanted to be with him. She knew it sounded ridiculous, but she almost felt like everyone else was just lying, exaggerating, trying to push her away so they could have him all to themselves.
So, I developed The Five - Single Challenge.
The Five - Single Challenge is much like the 9-0 challenge. Except, instead of abstaining from alcohol for nine months in support of soon-to-be mothers, you stay single for five months in support of all those in abusive domestic situations.
Five months on average is about how long it takes for your brain to register having been abused, raped, etc. It allows you to break through a co-dependence, have some time to heal, and figure out what you really want and need. It strengthens friendships, and most importantly allows you to understand that you are NOT alone, and you CAN be single.
So, I ditched my boyfriend of the time. I told her I would be single with her, she didn’t have to face this by herself.
So, she did it. She broke up with him, she stayed broken up with him, and now she’s happily engaged and currently with-child with a lovely, lovely man who cares for her deeply.
For all of you saying “omg you don’t know what its like”
Because YOU do not know what they’ve been through.
Jeff is this fantastic, absolutely breath taking person. I couldn’t even begin to explain in words just how amazing this man is.
He’s been there for me through my recovering after being raped, he’s held me and stopped me from hurting anyone else, or myself during dissociation. He’s cried with me, he’s laughed with me— and throughout everything he’s loved me.
We’ve been together for nearly three years now, and it’s had it’s hard times for sure. But everything has been 110% worth it. Jeff is my boyfriend, my best friend, my care taker, and my world.
His birthday’s are weird for him, and he’s going through a lot right now. Things have been really difficult lately.
He just made a tumblr this week, and he’s yet to post anything, but it would mean so, so much if some of you amazing, lovely people sent him some birthday wishes and good hope. I want him to see how absolutely great this place can be, and I want him to feel safe here so that he can have a good outlet to vent through. More importantly, I want him to know that he’s an amazing boyfriend— because he often doesn’t feel like it. I want him to see that he’s done so much good that his kindness toward me has helped in turn to save many.
I wouldn’t be here today if it wasn’t for Jeff saving my life countless times.
If it wasn’t for Jeff, I would’ve never been able to meet any of you, talk to you, hear your stories and console you.
Happy 21st birthday Jeffrey.
You are the most.. ethereal being that has ever blessed my life.
I am so thankful that you even simply exist, let alone have chosen to stay with me.
Jeff’s blog: snowbound-milk.tumblr.com