Birthday Depression: Accepting The Birthday Blues

I turned 28 last week, an insignificant milestone which brought along with it a wave of emotion. I have always cherished birthdays. As a young girl, the day was full of gifts, friends and birthday cake. Normally one to shy away from attention, I quite enjoyed a full day that was dedicated to me. I got to pick what food we would eat, what theme my party would be and who I’d get to invite.  I’d be too excited to sleep the night before; my… View Post

Returning To Work After A Mental Breakdown

It’s been four months since I made the hard decision to leave full-time work and focus on my mental health. Over the past month, I have felt somewhat ready to head back into the workforce but it was super important to me (and my mental health!) that I found the right job first. I’ve lived and breathed customer service for the past 13 years – it’s what I’m good at, but it is absolutely soul-destroying. So many times I was told not to let a… View Post

The Girl Who Lost Her Confidence

She’d never been an overly confident person. She was bullied a lot in high school and made to feel like she was just not good enough. There was nothing in her life that she excelled at (except for her excellent music knowledge, particularly the 80’s) or that set her apart from others. She wasn’t good at sport, her marks at school were average and she didn’t have a line of boys (or girls) vying for her affection. Once she left home and the small town… View Post

My Life With Depression: The Medication & The Overdose

So off I went to my local bulk-billing GP. Having previously only been there for minor issues, they had no history of my depression. I saw a doctor I’d never seen before and he asked me to tick some boxes. Apparently, this was to determine how depressed I was. I can’t recall him asking if I was currently seeking treatment through a therapist, I don’t think he did. Within what felt like 5 minutes, I’d been prescribed some pills. It didn’t seem like a big… View Post

How My Cat Saved My Life

My cat saved my life. No, he didn’t pull me from a burning house or save me from drowning in a pool; he saved me from myself and continues to do so daily, as I battle with mental illness. Simba (yes, that’s his real name!), came to me as a scrawny, flea-ridden, sick, stinky kitten back in November 2010. He was rescued by a Melbourne animal welfare group from a pound in rural Victoria along with 5 other kittens. I had started volunteering as a foster… View Post