I know a large amount of people in my life who have suffered with drinking and drug problems. A lot of people go through stages in their life where they hit the bottle or take just one more pill. With the culture we seem to have in modern day, it’s shown in the media daily - even used as a joke.

I can honestly say I don’t care about the media portraying it in various different ways. I care about the individual.

Personally, I’ve had a lot of issues with this myself. There was a three year stage where I had a lot of ups and downs with drugs and alcohol.

I used to take codeine and various over the counter drugs religiously. The hit just kept me so calm and numb and it was beautiful to have these few hours of taking away the pain and knowing that if I took enough of these pills I could end it all - that was a comforting thought back then. Sadly, I must admit, the only reason I stopped taking so many pills was because we simply ran out.

After this stage, when things got tough I turned to weed instead. There was a point where I was smoking it every day for at least five months and it did nothing to help my mental health issues. Paranoia was through the roof and I couldn’t wait till I could get some more.

I can happily say now that my usage of these drugs has dropped considerably. I still have to take a lot of pills… but these are now my medication.

When it comes to drink? You could say I was almost borderline alcoholic. When crisis hit, I’d be cuddling a bottle of vodka or rum and drinking it all away. There were times where I drank every night and day for weeks, there were times where I would binge every weekend and ended up with infections because of it.

I’m not so easily addicted anymore. Instead I realised that trying to keep my health - both mental and physical - was the best thing I could do when my body started to deteriorate due to other problems.

Yeah, I still go out and have a little drink here and there. Yeah, I still smoke every other month or so. And I have relapsed with the pill taking… but I have come to the realisation that to numb the pain, you need to tackle the problem.

Drinking just damages you more and it’s important to teach people this. I mean people of all ages - it’s not just the young ‘uns.

Taking some vodka shots won’t solve your debts or your self esteem.

I think I’ve always been a passionate person and a very opinionated one.

I was speaking to my mum the other day about past arguments her and my sister have had. I mentioned how I knew I was hard to get along with on occasion.

I can be fiercely argumentative if I don’t agree with something and I know for a fact it’s lost me friends in the past. I accept people’s other opinions but I want to know more, I want to know why.

My mum looked me in the eye and said she was proud of me. She said she was proud of herself because she gave birth to this opinionated, strong young woman who would not take shit from anyone.

I honestly think this is the first time she’s ever said anything of this nature to me and it was amazing to hear.

I’ve thought recently that maybe with this drive, I can make a difference somewhere. Even if it’s small and just two people in a tiny village - it’s still a difference.

I want to do that with my writing - both informative and fiction - my drawing and photography, with good deeds and ideas and things I make and say and do.

My scars don’t make me feel ugly, they show times in my life where I thought I couldn’t go on - they show I fucking survived.

And no. I may not be better yet. But I know all cuts will heal and I know one day I’ll be able to look back and think; I fucking beat this shit.

We live in a world where a majority of our closest friends have been victims of sexual assault. If you don’t think there’s a problem with that, then I have a problem with you.

Sexual assault in all cases can emotionally (sometimes physically) scar a person of any gender - along with their friends and family.

It sickens me to think it’s become acceptable to tell people what they shouldn’t do and shouldn’t wear, how they should never be blind drunk or out at night to avoid rape.

Sorry, but no. How can anyone think it’s right to say these things to a victim? How can anyone think this is right, full stop?

• If they were drunk? Not their fault.
• If they were out late at night? Not their fault.
• If they flirt with you and say no? Not their fault.
• If they were dressed baring a lot of skin? Not their fault.

We should be able to do whatever we want with our lives as long as we do not infringe on other people’s lives or harm ourselves greatly.

Taking someone’s freedom from them is a crime. So is slut-shaming, by my standards.

Think of little things you like:

• Green fruit pastilles

• The smell of butter & vanilla. About to make a cake, or pastry or pancakes. Vanilla candles & bread cobs.

• When the sky is completely blue

• Hot cement in the summer. Putting your bare feet onto the pavement. Feel like you’re walking on hot coals yet it still feels good.

• Veins. Like the roots in trees.

• Long bus journeys with your earphones, a window, and a fag readily rolled for when you get there.

Now breathe.

Count to ten.

I can’t promise you an alright or an okay but people love the little things about you too.

Not just skinny, not just curvy, or pear, or chubby, or muscular, or fat, or thin or stick insect. The only time I don’t agree with someone’s body type is if they are dangering their health - and yes, again, this goes to both ends of the spectrum.

This applies to men as well, I’m not just talking about women.

I hate it if people assume I’m anorexic. It’s as if no one knows the real fucking definition of the bastard word.

“Are you anorexic?”

“Yes I hate my body/don’t want to grow up/am dysmorphic.”

Anorexic doesn’t equal skinny. I’M SKINNY BECAUSE I AM PHYSICALLY AND CHRONICALLY ILL. Not because I have a recognised mental illness that effects how I view my own body and how I view food.

I’ve been living with someone who has anorexia since the age of 11. It’s hard, it’s difficult. I cannot say certain things, I have to tread carefully with nearly every fucking subject. No, I don’t understand it. How can I possibly understand something to a great extent if I’ve never had that issue?

But I do understand that society is full of bullshit and fucking cunts.

You are beautiful, no matter what shape or size. But look after yourself. And if you think there’s a problem or if someone close to you thinks there’s a problem? I cannot stress enough that help isn’t weak, it doesn’t make you stupid.

And to anyone suffering with any form of problem with food, their body weight, shape or type, how they look, self-esteem and other issues?

I’m here for you & goddamn so are many, many more people. You’re not alone.

• I can smell you on my clothes and instantly my mind is alive with summer and apples and kisses lying on the curb outside my best friend’s house.
• Coco perfume and powder. Smoky bars and purple lights.
• Cranberry juice and chocolate bourbons because you used to give me a carton every time I came to see you.
• I had your hoodie for three days and my mind won’t let me forget the smell.
• Bubble bath.
• Swimming pools.
• The old blue mondeo with melted chocolate stars on the back seat.
• I miss your scent. I couldn’t stop holding my shirt to my face when I left your party.

I’ve suffered from GAD, Panic Disorder and social anxieties since I can remember. There’s been ups and downs and remembering the lows is what makes me proud of how much I’ve progressed with this awful disorder.

There was a six week period when I was younger that I avoided school like the plague, I didn’t leave the house and the mere thought of it had me in fits of tears. Even going through my early teens I was terrified of public transport, interacting with new people and kept myself inside on the Internet for days on end. Sure, I had a few friends - I’ve always been an agony aunt - but this was at school, somewhere I had to be by law.

I skipped weeks at a time, I stayed indoors, I’d avoid any eye contact, I felt uncomfortable even sat with my family, I’d pull out my hair and pick my skin to get rid of the rising feeling of doom. I cannot stress how hard a time this was for me (my mental and physical health has always been bad but this was an extreme point)

But when I went to college, this changed. I guess having blue hair helped a lot - people came to me. I was forced to act as normal as possible. And yes, it was so, so hard. Many lessons were spent in the bathroom or outside panicking about something ridiculous. Stupid things set me off - the word panic or anxiety, if someone was too close to me, if I worried for someones safety or a teacher asked me a question.

Wanna know how I am now?

• I got myself help! And believe me, that was the biggest change. I TALKED to someone and god… I’m glad I did.
• I can get on most buses (I travel on about four every day), if I know the exact name of the stop.
• I go to lots of parties, and yes it’s nerve-wracking at first but fuck you anxiety! I’m having a damn good time.
• I hang out with friends nearly every day, if I’m well enough. I’m not as awkward as I was and I can jump into a conversation most times.
• I still get nervous when it comes to presentations, but now I can actually say things in my lectures.
• I get a random panic attack every two weeks (depends on stress levels), instead of three times every day!
• I’m not triggered by words as easily as I was.
• I’ve got lots and lots of amazing, different friends and although I get tired a lot and sometimes it’s a bit much - I am so proud of myself.

I am a different, sometimes a worry wart, person and I may have a long way to go in lots of areas but this is proof! YOU CAN CHANGE.

You can get better. It takes awhile - but everything takes time!

Getting help is the first step. I know it’s hard, but it’s nothing to be embarrassed about.

So yesterday morning I got up early, had a shower, ate a fried egg and left to go and meet my close friend and her beautiful family to join them on the march against cut backs on pensions.

The atmosphere was asolutely amazing and had a strong feeling of community and empowerment. I’ve been on marches before but nothing compared to this: the amount of people and the amount of energy.

It felt great to show my support by marching along with people directly affected by this. And the public reacted brilliantly: beeps of cars, waves and applause as we passed them.

What an amazing day.