Emily Violett. My Life.

I share so much online that it’s probably considered oversharing now. I don’t hide my thoughts or my feelings. I openly talk about my mental health, sexuality, political views, and relationships. None of that is airbrushed. Reworded a few times, maybe, but still my honest thoughts and opinions are voiced. You see, I’d been quiet for too long. My whole life I’ve been the quiet one, the shy one, the well behaved one or the clever one. Not anymore. I’m the talkative one, the passionate one, the funny one, the unpredictable one. I didn’t like any of those boxes I had been put in and left in at age 4. I felt caged, trapped. Never quite living up to the expectations others had for me. So, using the shield of a mental breakdown, I took the opportunity to  smash out of those boxes. To allow myself to be true to who I am. Anyway, I went off on a tangent. Let’s get back to what I wanted to speak about. (Yet again I’m avoiding it.) The way I feel I look is a huge issue for me. The wo...

Refilling this on a Sunday night is bittersweet. Not just because of the coating on each pill, but because it symbolises both how far I’ve come and how far I have left to go. On the one hand I’m aware, while popping each pill out of its packaging, that I can’t function without these little guys. That I cannot cope with life, it’s too much, it’s overwhelming and I don’t want to carry on anymore. Each tablet contributes to my life in a way I depend on. That can be a scary realisation. On the other hand I’m reminded that I have control of my own medication again. I’m safe to take charge of it. It’s not a danger for me to have all of these pills within my reach anymore. I’m reminded that I have the power to decide what’s best for me, to know what works and what doesn’t. For a few months I have been taking a low dose antipsychotic, used as a mood stabiliser. I’m not ashamed of that. Unfortunately after three months I decided that the side effects I was having from this med...