Empty Happiness.


With depth comes happiness,

So you go deeper,

Deeper and deeper,

Digging for happiness,

“Deeper,” you demand,

Skin breaking,

Blood rushing through your veins,

Overflowing your body,

Pouring out,

Deeper you demand,

The deeper you go the sadder you feel,

Searching for happiness,

“Deeper,” you demand,

You keep going,

Further and further,

Blood rushing out,

Filling oceans,

Sadness consuming you,

So you dig deeper,

Searching for happiness,

“Deeper,” you demand,

And with depth comes blood,

Tearing your skin apart,

You were never searching for happiness,

“Deeper,” you demand,

Until you can’t dig anymore,

Eyes fading,

Breathe slowing,

No more sadness,

No more happiness,

No more anything,

Drop the blade,

You’ve gone deep enough.


No More Easter Egg Hunts.


Easter, a holiday my family always treasured. My mother going to extremes in order to make us happy every year and no matter how old we became, we still got excited.

The routine went as such ~

We woke up in the morning to a soft toy and a chocolate by our beds; the first toy I ever got became my best friend for the next 10 years till he began falling apart. I cherished every toy she left on that bed, and as she became sick the toys began bringing something with them, almost some form of hope. If we could make it to one Easter, we could sure as hell make it to the next and that was worth celebrating.

The celebration would continue with breakfast, homemade pancakes, bacon eggs, everything you could possibly want and more. A spread fit for three queens I thought. This tradition slowly changed as mum became sicker, I began taking over, and she would lie in bed that little bit longer, still recovering from her previous chemotherapy. So I would wake up early, cook breakfast as best I could and bring it to her in bed, where we would all share in each other’s company, all happy we had made it to another Easter.

After breakfast, we invited the whole family round and Mum would run her world famous ‘Easter egg hunt.’ A tradition I begged her to keep every year, almost becoming more excited, as I got older. What I loved most was seeing the joy in her eyes when we started running round the house finding them, while at the same time what was brining me joy was the fact she was happy. We were almost doing it for each other. Who knew something so trivial could give us such hope.

Following the famous hunt we all sat down to dinner, another feast for all the familiar faces we brought into our house. Everyone happy to be together. Everyone just excited about making another Easter.

So there you have it, a world famous day for our family, one I loved celebrating, even if our reasons were slightly different to others. Easter is coming around again, only a few days away, and this Easter I feel myself almost lost. Scrambling with ideas, trying to piece small bits together, so I could attempt to continue the tradition, or at least some of it, as Mum would have wanted.

But this Easter is not the same, for we will no longer be celebrating, as Mum didn’t make it to this Easter. We had no idea at the time, but last Easter would be her last, it would be the end of all our traditions, no more toys at the end of the bed, no more breakfast fit for queens, no more family dinners, no more feelings of joy, and…

…No more Easter egg hunts.


Searching For Yourself.


Starke realities,

Hidden behind glass,

Searching for yourself.

Why don’t you stay a little longer?

Bigger spaces,

Smaller outlines,

Searching for yourself.

Look deeper,

Depth is key,

Fragile and broken beneath the surface,

Searching for yourself.

Time ticking,

A person slowly fading,

Eyes red,


Body numb,

Searching for yourself.

Walk away,

This person can’t be you,

Already gone inside,

Barely surviving,

A face so broken,

Searching for yourself.

Moving side to side,

The image moving with you,


Stop searching,

That person is you.

(It’s a mirror after all).


Sadness or depression (when mine switched).

It all started with what I could only describe as sadness.


I had experienced sadness before in my life, as we all have. I was sad when I got a bad grade, I was sad when someone said something mean to me, I was incredibly sad when one of my pets passed away.


Yet, this sadness felt different, it felt almost deeper and much more constant. I went from being sad some days, to feeling sad almost every day, and now not a second goes by where I don’t feel sad.


I believe there is a big difference between sadness and depression; I never used to think this. I always thought those that were depressed were just sad; I always second-guessed the whole nature of depression, until now. I finally get it, sadness is temporary, it goes away, depression on the other hand, its permanent, it never really leaves you.

Instead it makes you feel constantly down, constantly interfering with every day life. Depression makes you second guess your existence, is life really worth it after all?

I thought my sadness would pass, just like it always did.

It has been 9 months now, 9 months of constant sadness. To me that is no longer sadness, that is depression, where your mind dives into the deepest most scariest places you didn’t even know existed, till now.

I have come close, many times now, to ending it, to giving in as I struggle to find the purpose in life. I live from one day to the next, that’s about all my body can handle at the moment.

Last night was one of the worst for me, last night I did something I have never done before, I wrote a goodbye note. I cannot bring myself to read it. All I remember is not feeling myself, feeling this overwhelming darkness inside as sadness pulsated in my veins, as my body writhed in pain.

What is the point?

(A question those with depression may be all too familiar with).

For now, I cannot answer that question, as I struggle to come up with answers myself.

All I know is that it’s worth holding on right now, even if it feels as though the whole world is against you; as if you have nobody, just hold on. If I can do it, so can you. Grab onto those last few fibres keeping you here, learn how to survive, and one day I hope all of us can turn that surviving into thriving. I hope all of us can turn that depression back into sadness, back into something manageable.

I hope we all find our reasons to stay (I hope all of us find that switch).

Things will never be the same, I know that much.

But even pain is temporary, even depression can revert into some form of sadness. Until then, hold on, hold tight. Its going to be a hell of a ride, but I am here with you the whole way through, even if you have nobody else, you’ve got me.


Think positive thoughts (as if its that easy).

I was feeling down today, more so than normal and a friend noticed.

Its hard for people to know what to say, to know how to act, to know how to be around a person like me.

Today when I was upset,

He simply said, “Think positive thoughts.”

So I sat for a minute, trying to think of something, before responding, “I have no positive thoughts.”

That’s when it really hit me.

I have hit a point in my life where there is nothing to look forward to. I live from event to event, and when those events are over I am constantly overwhelmed with feelings of loneliness and despair, feelings of emptiness. Struggling to find something else to look forward to. I no longer look forward to holidays, to going home, to seeing family; the only thing I ever truly looked forward to was seeing Mum.

We can try all we want to “think happy thoughts.” But at the end of the day, this is pointless if there are no more positives in your life.

So how about we go about this a bit differently?

Why don’t we take a minute each day and write down one thing we are grateful for.

Even if it the smallest of things.

I will go first, and begin with today.


I am grateful for my friends,

The ones who make you smile even when you’re dying inside,

I am just grateful to have a reason to smile,

Even if that moment is small,

Even if it means nothing in the big scheme of things.

All that matters is that it meant something today, and for me that is enough for now.

(Your turn).


The scariest part of dying. 

Have you ever thought about it?

Second guessed yourself around death.

I want you to think about it for a minute, let’s face it we don’t live forever, we are put on this earth only to eventually die.

So what part of death scares you the most? Why doesn’t society talk about it more, it’s only natural, yet there’s something about it that makes it so taboo.

I’ve thought about this question many times, and each time I believe my answer changes. Although I’ve only ever come close to death once, I don’t really remember it and In fact I wasn’t as scared as I thought I would be.

We can all hypothetically answer this question. However the reality of our answers never show until we are placed in those moments, those moments where we know we are dying, when life is coming to an end, where you really have to sit back and ask yourself –

“What part of dying scares the hell out of me?”

A question I asked my Mum, a couple of years after her diagnosis, it genuinely interested me and I wanted to know how she was feeling. But her answer really surprised me, almost knocked me back and it took me a few moments to readjust and figure out how to reply.

Her answer,

She wasn’t scared of death, she was one of the brave ones. Instead what scared her the most was the people she was leaving behind. This truely shows what kind of person she was. One that was willing to do anything for other people, a person willing to put everyone else before herself.

She continued telling me about how scared she was at the thought of us having to carry on, having to survive and live our own lives without her around. What she needed was some reassurance, reassurance that we would be okay, so that’s what I gave her. I promised her over and over again that we would be okay, it would be hell but we would survive this, we would do it for her.

After that day, I never saw fear in her eyes again, almost as if a weight was lifted off her shoulders. She felt relaxed, she felt almost ready for whatever happens next, that to me is bravery, and she had copious amounts of it.

Thinking back to her last day on this earth, I remember her slowly slipping away, looking at me with this slight fear back in her eyes. Something I didn’t want her to have, I didn’t want her last few moments to feel like that. So I leant in close, grabbed her hand and whispered “all the people you leave behind are going to be okay, I promise.”

The fear instantly leaving her eyes, slowly her breathing relaxed, slipping away…

After all, she wasn’t scared anymore.


First birthday without you. 

Today I realised my birthday is coming around.

I have tried my hardest to ignore it, suppress it, pretend it’s not there.

The truth- I don’t want to turn another year older without you, that means I will no longer be the same age I was when you passed. I wil no longer be that 21-year-old girl.

I will be a year older, no longer the same girl you last saw. That terrifies me so much. I will never see you age and you will never see me grow.

Together we will remain the same ages we were on the 10th of July 2016. I won’t have that opportunity to watch your hair go grey, to see your body become more fragile, to see those beautiful wrinkles that only come to those who have lived a long precious life.

And for you…

You will never see me grow.

You will never see me graduate, marry, have kids, even grow a year older. You will miss all of that.

I’m not sure who should be more terrified. You are the one that’s missing out, but so am I. I am missing out on creating those precious memories and you are missing being able to create them with me.


Absolutely heart breaking.

If I could stop the clock I would.

I would stop the entire process.

But I can’t.

None of us can.

So I’ve got 3 weeks to come to terms with this, and to deal with the fact that some of us (the unlucky ones) continue to grow up even when our loved ones have stopped.