Why Can’t I Be You?

T/W: mentions of self harm, eating disorders, body image and mental health. please do not read any further if any of these topics are triggering to you.

It’s been a little while since I wrote a blog entry. I started a new job, which is thankfully going well. It’s almost liberating to be able to go home everyday and not spend the entire night stressed out about what lies ahead for me when I go back in the next day.

Anyway, unfortunately my mental health still isn’t in a great place. Same goes with my physical health. Before lockdown started, my doctors were in the process of trying to kick off some form of treatment for my eating disorder. I’m obviously still waiting for this. Having an ED is all-consuming; I’m drained 24/7. I constantly think about food, whether I want to or not.

For the first time, I’m shitting myself writing this to be honest, but I’m gonna be completely open and honest and start from the beginning. I remember the actual SECOND my eating disorder started, obviously I didn’t know it was going to be following me almost 14 years on.

I was 11 years old. My mum frequently bought celebrity gossip magazines. During that time, you’d probably be hard pressed to find a mother who didn’t buy those magazines. Of course I ended up picking them up time to time. I remember as clear as day seeing the pictures of Victoria Beckham and David Beckham being welcomed to LA standing in between Will Smith, Tom Cruise, Katie Holmes & Jada Pinkett Smith. I can categorically say that picture of Victoria Beckham kickstarted my ED.

I also want to add I hold absolutely zero hatred towards her. It wasn’t her fault. The way magazines wrote about her, it was like that was the ideal. At the time, I felt like I was a pudgy, ugly & worthless 11 year old. I was already around a year into self harm at this point, and I thought maybe dieting was a better alternative to physically hurting myself.

Oh, adolescent Claire, how wrong you were. My dieting exacerbated the self harm. I was self-mutilating up to 5 times a day. I was living off of water, half a cucumber and a whole red pepper a day. If I had to eat dinner with my family, I’d push it around my plate and maybe manage 3-4 bites maximum. I would also exercise for at least 30 minutes after I came home from school. I WAS ELEVEN YEARS OLD.

I told every child psychiatrist, psychologist and GP I had at the time for years, and I wasn’t underweight, so it was a case of “You have body dysmorphia, most teenagers do, you’ll grow out of it.”

For reference, I got this (size small) t-shirt below for Christmas in 2009. I was 13 years old. This picture here is me today (14/03/21) and it still fits me. I am almost 25 years old. My eating disorder only got, partially may I add, diagnosed a little over a year ago. Before that, it was solely Body Dysmorphia Disorder that I was fully diagnosed with. I wasn’t seen to have any form of eating disorder because I wasn’t “dangerously underweight.”

I grew out of the crash diets pretty quickly. I then went to calorie counting, which unfortunately still completely overtakes my life to this day. If I go out for a meal and I don’t know the calorie count, the guilt that consumes me for the rest of the day/night makes me convince myself that I don’t need to eat anything further. Obviously it concerns me, and it concerns the ones I love. The amount of times I’ve broken down over food is hideous come to think of it.

It’s trying to tell people I don’t willingly want to be like this. I’ve been asking for help for well over a decade now and it’s palmed off with “Well, you’re not dangerously underweight, so we’re not going to do anything.” I feel like I don’t have the right to ask for treatment because I’m not dying, but I can assure you, I think I maybe enjoy food 5% of the time. 95% of the time, I hate thinking about food, I hate the thought and chore of eating and it’s horrible.
Anxiety doesn’t help EDs. Depression doesn’t help EDs. And obviously, having body dysmorphia is horrific when trying to recover from an ED.

I hate how frustrated I make people when I say that I feel huge today, or I shouldn’t eat that because of the calorie count, and I get responses like “you can afford to eat that,” or “you need that more than anyone else” because I personally don’t feel like that. And I will never expect anybody who hasn’t gone through it to understand, but I just wish it was spoken about with no stigma. Mental health disorders aren’t even touched upon in schools, and I think it’s bang out of order. I was made to feel like a nuisance because I had appointments and consultations all the time during my time in high school. I had a select few teachers who were beyond supportive, but it was brushed under the carpet most of the time. It was one of the main reasons I left to go into college, where I actually had a full time mental health worker within the building I could go to if things were starting to pile on top of me.

In terms of everything I’ve been treated for and given medication and therapy to counterbalance issues, my eating disorder has fallen by the wayside. It’s always been treated as a side effect.

I’m so open about everything because I don’t want anyone to ever think they have to be ashamed of having a mental health condition. I hate what I go through on a daily basis, and I am well aware that there are thousands of people out there who have it worse than me, but my feelings and thoughts are valid. And that’s taken me years to acknowledge.

Yes, I cry over this shit on a daily basis (yes, Josh is a saint and I would be completely lost without his support over the last few years) and it’s a slog for those around me too. I know it’s not easy, and I profusely apologise to everyone all the time because I know how much hard work it is a lot of the time. I’m so incredibly lucky to be able to say my best friends are still the best friends I had as a pre-teen/young teenager. We’ve all been through every little shitty thing together, and we’re stronger and better off from it. We understand that we may go weeks without speaking, but we also know that if something major happens, we’re all there for each other.

Embarrassingly so, I’ve had Kitkat in my life since I was 9 years old and he’s been cried on and used as a pet therapist since he was tiny. He’s one of the only constants I’ve ever had.

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I’m also majorly lucky that I’ve had music the whole way through and whether it’s a CD, a live DVD or a proper live show, it’s my escapism, it’s my life.

I have listed below any helplines and handy websites if you are struggling with any of this. If you feel you or someone you love is suffering with anything I’ve mentioned, please call your GP and share your concerns, because asking for any help is without a doubt the hardest step in any sort of recovery. And I have everything crossed I will develop a healthier relationship with food in the future (once Covid has dispersed a little bit and I can finally enter some form of treatment.)

Stay safe and thank you for reading.

Claire x

Helplines & handy websites:

https://www.beateatingdisorders.org.uk/support-services/helplines

https://www.beateatingdisorders.org.uk/

https://seedeatingdisorders.org.uk/

https://www.mind.org.uk/information-support/types-of-mental-health-problems/eating-problems/useful-contacts/

https://www.samaritans.org/

Honestly? Fuck 2020

I think know I’m within a very long line of people who are looking forward to throwing a middle finger up to this whole year.

18/12/2020

2020 started off extremely uneventful; I very quietly celebrated the fact New Year marked six years since Josh and I first met. I had a slew of gigs lined up, and what I knew would be a busy year at work.

We experienced two concerts in Manchester & London within two weeks in mid-February-late February. Editors and Frank Carter & The Rattlesnakes were outstanding. We knew we had so much more to look forward to, such as Pearl Jam in London and Harry Styles in Glasgow to name just a few.

And then a fucking global pandemic hit, didn’t it? I was pretty much furloughed from work instantly. Did I welcome lockdown and furlough? For the first two weeks, it was absolute bliss. And then my depression hit me harder than it ever has. I was miserable. Josh was still working full-time, my friends all lived away, and my mother was, unfortunately, relapsing again.

I’m going to be brutally honest here: Nothing’s changed with these blogs regarding that fact. But I just want to make a trigger warning because I do go on to explicitly talking about self harm, mental health and eating disorders. So please do not make yourself uncomfortable by reading this. I 100% understand.

I found myself writing a lot more than usual. I found myself totally immersing myself in music again. It continues to be the love of my life, and I’m eternally grateful for that, but it became more of a distraction than anything else. And it deserved to be so much more than that.

I miss my friends. My two bestest friends in the entire world were so far away, one was down in Edinburgh, and the other was all the way over in Vietnam. It fucking hurt. And when you hurt that badly, the last thing you want to do is disrupt what may be a tough time for them too. So everything was bottled up. I very rarely bottle things up, that’s just not who I am; I transfer those feelings to writing or going to therapy or ending up bawling crying in Josh’s car after he’s finished work.

I turned 24 very early on during lockdown. I wrote a hell of a lot during that period. I wrote how I didn’t expect to make it to 24. Although, I still had doubts about making it to 25. I think about if I could speak to my 16 year old self, what I would tell her. Truthfully? I wouldn’t tell her she was still suffering with all of this shit because I know I wouldn’t be here today if I knew this was still going to be going on.

June hit, and I knew I had to call a doctor. I was on the verge of the biggest mental breakdown I’ve had in almost a decade. My eating disorder was consuming me. My self harm was happening multiple times a day again, the first time in almost 7 years where it’s been that bad. I wanted to die. That was the bottom line. I was hoarding medication. I was tripling, quadrupling, up on medication just so I didn’t have to feel anything.

I had dropped more weight. I was sitting at the weight I was at the age of 10/11 years old. I found it a chore to eat. There were occasions during lockdown where I had to set reminders on my phone to remind me just to even attempt to eat a fucking banana.

Six months on, I’ve only managed to gain 1kg back. Getting told that, with a disordered brain, you feel as if you’ve gained 1 whole stone, not just 2lbs. I kicked myself big time over that. I still do.

July came along and I was back to work. My line of work, a busy holiday park, you had some customers complying with the new rules the world have had to come to terms with since March, and others just didn’t. That stressed me out. I knew if I caught anything, I’d probably be OK, but I live with three high-risk people who wouldn’t be. Work was, for lack of a better phrase, a fucking shit-show.

My suicidal ideation was getting worse, my self harm was still happening almost daily, my depression, anxiety and my eating disorder were all simply suffering.

I also, again quietly, celebrated my third year anniversary with Josh. I know for a fact I wouldn’t be writing this end of year blog right now if it wasn’t for him. I owe him the world. I will never encounter someone who is more patient, loving, understanding and kind than he is. He’s been such a star. He’s had to learn how to administer first aid, understand mental health and just be there for someone who doesn’t even want to be there for themselves. I 100% do not deserve him.

I, thankfully, after a five month wait, got back in touch with my councillor, who could only have telephone appointments with me every other week. It was better than nothing. I realised finally spilling out everything I was concealing for months wasn’t right. I’ve not been myself for years, but this was someone else entirely. I cried up to 10 times a day. I was finding myself yelling to myself that I wanted to die. Thankfully, I still have that communication for the time being and I’m nowhere near back to being leveled out but, that takes a lot of fucking time.

Autumn came along, and there was no let-up with work, my mum was sicker than I’d ever seen her, and I had just found out my best friend had a brand new baby all the way over in Vietnam. It was a lot to digest. It tore me apart that I couldn’t do anything because I was thousands of miles away. Amazingly, she’s home now, and that baby is just every ounce of pure joy that a single human being could hold. That’s been a huge relief, and one of the better things to come out of this year. I hadn’t seen her in over three years. I have so many incredible friends, but your best female friends are vital, and I didn’t have that for years, and it really affected me.

And now we’re ending 2020…As if my year could get any worse, I was made redundant from a job I’ve poured my blood, sweat and tears into for over 4 years just two days before Christmas. It’s still not fully sunk in. I’m a worker. If I don’t have something to do, I struggle. I’m eternally grateful I have my music to immerse myself into until I find something new, whenever that may be. I’m also incredibly lucky my best friend is home.

I never make New Year’s Resolutions. I think they’re stupid. Why put an end date on something? When you’re ultimately never going to achieve what you wanted to within that timeline, and you’re just going to end up disappointing yourself.

I really fucking struggled with no live music this year. That’s my mecca. That’s my happy place.

I have a fair few gigs lined up for 2021, and I have everything crossed they go ahead, because if 2021 ends up going down the same route as this year, well folks, it’s not going to be pretty.

I haven’t been hugely open about my mental health on my blog in 2020 as I maybe should’ve been. Although, I think right now is the first time I’ve sat down long enough to really realise the magnitude of the last 12 months. My eating disorder still has me in a death grip, my depression hasn’t worsened, but hasn’t got better. My anxiety, especially right now, is in full swing.

I’ve been fortunate enough to have a phenomenal support system within my friends and medical team. I also still fall back a lot on Samaritans (Available 24/7 on 116 123) who continue to do incredible work.

I’m also going to leave 10 songs from 2020 that have, quite honestly, saved my life.

1. Roses/Violet/Lotus/Iris by Hayley Williams
2. Kyoto by Phoebe Bridgers
3. Shame Shame by Foo Fighters
4. Dance Of The Clairvoyants by Pearl Jam
5. Opaque by Biffy Clyro
6. Leave It Alone by Hayley Williams
7. Reasons I Drink by Alanis Morissette
8. Level Of Concern by Twenty One Pilots
9. Monsters by All Time Low (feat. blackbear)
10. 25 by The Pretty Reckless

Thank you for reading if you did. It makes me feel like I’m not continually talking to myself. But please do speak to someone if you’re struggling. The worst thing to do is suffer silently.

And here’s hoping our plans for 2021 pan out (and I find another job!!)

don’t really post myself on here, but hey xo

Claire x

Three Years…

If you told me three years ago, I would still be in and out of grief counselling and on the highest dosage of anti-depressants I’ve ever been on during my 12 years of my depression diagnosis, I’d call you crazy.
Yet, it’s me who feels like the crazy one; I’m 24 years old, still using the toxic coping mechanisms I was using from the age of 10, my mood swings are ridiculous, the darkness and brain fog I struggle through day in day out is getting heavier and I’m really just fed up, if I’m totally honest.
But I made a promise to myself I’d always write a post on this day because I am constantly wanting to try and understand my grief, and be open about it because it’s a real thing every single person goes through. My grief over someone I didn’t know. I still feel shame, embarrassment and like a complete and utter failure to my friends & family, but there has to be some sort of validity to it if it’s making me feel quite this bad, or so my therapist says.

I’ve not had a recurring nightmare for a long time, so when I started having the same nightmare almost every night for the last 4/5 weeks, it’s sending me into this cesspit of despair. I’m not going into the ins and outs of it until I get to finally speak to my therapist after this godawful lockdown, but I can say it does involve Chris.
Most days, I can sit and if any of his songs come on, I can sing along, smile and not think too much about the ending of his life. Then there are the “doom days,” those are the days I have panic attack after panic attack, migraines galore, fits of rage and hysterical crying. I have absolutely no control over my body when these days happen. I relapse with my self harm every single one of these days occur. I feel like I regress back into being this terrified 11 year old who’s scared of the world and doesn’t want to live long enough to experience it.
Not long after Chris died, I was staying at one of my aunt’s for the night down in Glasgow and, like the majority of my family, she was heavily into music, and we’d talk about it for hours. She genuinely seemed to be worried about how I was coping with the news of his death. So when she asked, I folded like a deckchair. I bawled my eyes out because it was so relieving to have someone in my life who didn’t really see me very often, but knew me, knew what I was like and I knew she wasn’t going to go to my parents and explain what I was telling her.
At this point, I had only been to one counseling session for grief. My aunt, who understands mental health better than anyone else I know, simply said “it’s understandable why you feel like this. You lost a mentor.” And it was like this weight on my chest had been lifted off. After 5 long months of struggling to breathe at the mention of his name, there was some form of explanation.
Hearing her explain the way my parents separated, I had gone from seeing my father everyday to every other week for a couple of days and I always sought out comfort in music, so music was a constant parent for me, it was unreal to me. I have looked up to so many people in music throughout my life, and losing any of them to suicide especially, floors me because they’re the ones who have dragged me out of that place.
Not only did Chris’ suicide affect me in ways I could never have imagined, but TMZ decided to release the pictures of the scene from his hotel room, and those images still haunt me. I didn’t seek these out before anyone starts to accuse me. Someone I barely know on social media messaged me them one by one. Obviously, no body was there, but seeing his guitar sitting next to his bed, his sunglasses and medication on the table, it was just like a normal scene and then there was the bathroom…having the image of Chris’ blood up splashed up against the side of a bath and on the floor has never left me. Trying to heal from that? It’s like asking the impossible of me.
I’ve lost so many more heroes since Chris left us three years ago. A lot of them due to medical issues, and that’s a little bit easier to work through the grief of that because it’s explainable. I watch Soundgarden’s last show in Detroit an hour before he took his own life every so often, and yes, it’s hell to watch it because his eyes seem a little heavy and he doesn’t feel completely present, but his voice still soars and he still holds fans’ hands for dear life. The stage was his happy place. So to know he stepped off that stage, went into a car back to his hotel room, called his wife to say he took an extra dose of his anti-anxiety medication and then he was gone by the time his security guard to knock down his door all within that hour sends chills down my spine everytime I think about it.
The sheer amount of lives his words, his voice and his general being have saved and given purpose to fills me with so much guilt because no one could get to him in time. No one could save one of the people I admire the most in this world.
I’ve realised during this time that I’m not weak for asking for help. I may feel embarrassed and ashamed, but I shouldn’t. Trying to realise that my feelings are valid is near impossible most days, but I’m reminded by so many people they matter and that it’s OK not to be OK.
If anyone is struggling, please do not hesitate to speak to your GP or a helpline like Samaritans, because the hardest part is the initial plea for help. It’s so fucking difficult, I can’t even begin to put it into words, but once it’s done, there’s plans in place, you feel about 193857lbs lighter and it makes you worry a little less than you did the day before.
I know it’s extremely boring when I spew out my thoughts but I owed this to myself to bring myself to do this today, so if you read this, thank you.
Loud love. Always.

(My Personal Favourite) Inspiring Music Personalities

Don’t worry, I do remember I have a blog.
I’m not gonna beat around the bush because we’re all in the same shitty situation with this lockdown, but myself and thousands of others are full on struggling with their mental health along with being in the house 24/7 apart from a once a day walk.

I needed to write again and I have the worst block songwriting wise so I frantically messaged Josh to help me come up with a subject I can spew some words onto a page about. The end result? My favourite personalities in music. This is ranging from influencing myself and the wider world, the way they carry themselves and/or anything that sticks out about their personality that attracted me to them.
I’m going to link a video I feel is a great representation for each of them as well. I hope this helps anyone who needs to peel themselves away from the news for a while (I’ve blacklisted all news sites for the next 48 hours just to get a fucking break!)

Let’s get started! These are in no particular order because I would literally be here for days to decide that.

Dave Grohl

Dave Grohl – taken by me at Etihad Stadium, Manchester 19/6/18

I want to start with the most positive, brightest and charismatic person in music: Mr Dave Grohl.
I became a fan of Dave, along with his band Foo Fighters, when I was probably 3 or 4 after seeing the Learn To Fly video as a toddler. It was by far the funniest music video I’d ever seen, and that still stands to this day. Thankfully both my parents were big fans of them so my brother and I were exposed to their records all throughout our childhood. As I started reading any books and magazines I could get my hands on about music, I became more and more obsessed with it. As a teenager, all I did was read and write about, listen to and play music. (Not much has changed apart from the fact I have a full time job now.) I’m going to confidently say Dave Grohl was my main inspiration for leaving school early and bite the bullet and study music performance at 16. As much I missed school, my mental health was really starting to take a turn for the worse. I met so many brilliant people of all ages at college and I credit these brilliantly inspiring videos where Dave would preach about doing the things you love and following them through. I’ve seen Foo Fighters live 4 times now over the last 4 1/2 years, so I’ve heard a fair few Dave speeches in person and witnessed a band I spent most of my childhood admiring doing what they do best. I still can’t stand and watch them play ‘Everlong’ without bawling. I’m going to link his keynote speech he did at SXSW. I could probably quote this word for word. It’s lengthy, but my god, is it worth it. I watch this when I feel a bit down in my own abilities, especially musically. It never fails to bring me back up and build up that confidence slowly but surely. I also recommend his Sonic Highways docuseries and Sound City documentary if you’re a bit of a music nut. You won’t regret it.

Freddie Mercury

Next up is the irreplaceable and forever missed Freddie Mercury. I was brought up by the biggest Queen fan about, so it was almost inevitable that I’d end up a complete slave to Queen and all things Freddie. I vividly remember getting a CD walkman when I was 5 or 6 and having no CDs for it. So I had to “borrow” from my parents. The first one I remember sneaking out of my mum’s room was ‘Jazz’ by Queen. I can’t tell you how much your world you thought you knew as a small child becomes completely boring when you first hear Freddie sing that intro of ‘Mustapha.’ That album was one of the very first that completely changed my life. My mum got to see Queen live twice in the 80s, and her claim to fame continues to be “I met them and touched Freddie’s leg when he was onstage.” She also makes an appearance near the start of their DVD of the Milton Keynes Bowl concert.
I’m forever saddened that I’ll never be able to see Freddie live. He fought his illness so courageously and he couldn’t give a single fuck about what people thought of him. I could sit and watch live videos of Queen for days on end. The energy he exuded was electric. His voice didn’t just span over a vast range, but it was genre defying; he could sing anything. The man was something else and his talent will continue to inspire me every day.

Amy Winehouse

I have the angel that is Amy Winehouse to forever be in debt to. I bought ‘Back To Black’ when it was released in 2006. I was 10 years old. I had never heard a voice like it and I had never heard write lyrics like she did and sing them with so much pain and passion behind them. About a year after that, I was gifted by someone in my family with a piano, vocal and guitar book covering the whole of that record. I studied it for months and started to take it all seriously, especially singing. I went into high school after that summer and I was so excited for my music class, I was already equipped with my Muse and Amy Winehouse vocal and piano books (along with CDs with instrumentals!) Most people in my class chose vocals or guitar in music, when my music teacher lined all the budding vocalists and gave us a line from Stealer Wheel’s ‘Stuck In The Middle With You’ each to sing. She then marked us out of 10. Every single person got 10/10…apart from me, who got 9/10. I wanted the ground to swallow me up. I wanted to die, and I was 12 years old. And this was at the very early stages of my mental health issues, so it messed me up more than I cared to admit. She then asked me to stay behind after the bell went. I instantly apologised for not being as good as everyone else. She simply replied with “I only scored you a 9/10 because I know you can grow from that. No 12 year old should be able to sing like that. I know we can do so much with you.” And that was that. That woman became almost like a second mother to me. She asked me to bring in and sing something for her. I sang ‘Wake Up Alone’ by Amy Winehouse and that was that. She threw me all the Amy Winehouse, Tom Waits & Ella Fitzgerald songs she could and we worked up from jazz to rock, and all the way to Italian arias. If it wasn’t for Amy, I would’ve never got the confidence to work so hard vocally. She came at a time when I needed her the most. I was devastated when she passed when I was only 15. My boyfriend and I’s anniversary oddly enough falls on the anniversary of her death. I think about her a lot and it breaks my heart. She’ll forever hold a special place in my heart. Because that’s what she was: So so special.

Matt Bellamy

Matt Bellamy – taken by me at Etihad Stadium, Manchester 8/6/19

Matt Bellamy…my first love, my first hero and my favourite human being in music. Muse were the first band I loved. It’s all thanks to my dad I became a fan of them. He seemed to permanently have MTV2 (now known as MTV Rocks) on when I was a kid and I remember seeing the video for ‘Plug In Baby’ and the rest is history. I owned every magazine and CD that had anything to do with Muse. I begged my parents to see them every time they toured and I finally got to go in 2009, a whole 8 years after that first time listening to them. I’m now 24 and I’ve seen them 12 times and they make up so much of my life. Matt Bellamy didn’t only inspire me vocally, he made me finally stick at piano (I still suck, but hey, at least I can get by with the stuff I’ve taught myself) and he was my first style icon. When I first got into Muse, Matt didn’t really have a style, but throughout the years, he’s just become so unapologetic and bold and I’m all for it. Much to the dismay of Josh, I own so many items of clothing he deems as “embarrassing” but I’m obsessed. I don’t think I’d have the nerve to wear some of that stuff if it wasn’t for Matt. And I definitely wouldn’t still be pushing myself vocally all these years on if he wasn’t around. His falsetto is magic and I didn’t really think I could hit those notes, or believed in myself to, until my music teacher encouraged me to sing Muse’s version of ‘Feeling Good’ onstage at a rock night when I was 14 and she couldn’t believe I did it….nor could my parents and they’re the poor ones who listened to me sing all of my life. I still don’t have half as much faith or confidence in myself as the people in my life do. There’s millions of other people better than me…the Matt Bellamys of the world. He’s everything to me, and will continue to be. No one fascinates me and captivates me more as a live performer as he does. Forever obsessed, thankful and blessed that he continues to inspire me after all this time.

Frank Carter

Frank Carter…It’s so refreshing to see someone in music who looks like someone you’d be terrified to bump into a dark alley but find out they’re the sweetest, softest and kindest person about. I didn’t jump on the Frank Carter bandwagon until about a year ago, but thank god I did. I bought his ‘End Of Suffering’ record that came out last year and I was blown away. This man, who’s covered head to toe in tattoos, has the most manic looking eyes and looks like he could kill you if you looked at him the wrong way, had written and sung gut spilling lyrics about mental health, the constant fear of wronging his daughter and heartbreak. It was something else. Even in interviews and when he speaks to fans, he is the most open, nurturing and loving human. It’s so inspiring. I’ve been writing songs for years and I’ve only ever been able to write things that are completely honest, but my mental health is still a struggle. After listening to that whole record for an age, that’s changed for the better for me; I can finally write about my health, although it can be heart wrenching, I can do it. I wouldn’t have been able to do that without Frank. I’ve been lucky enough to see him live twice in the last year and he’s mesmerizing. He’s also been a tattoo artist for a long time and in these ever changing times in the world, he’s started doing livestreams of him painting requests from fans and then sells them to us all. (I’ve been lucky enough to nab two over the last week!) He’s such a calming, positive influence that I’m so grateful to have in my life.

Florence Welch

Florence Welch – taken by me at SSE Hydro, Glasgow 17/11/18

Florence Welch. The flame haired goddess I never knew I needed in my life. It was funnily enough my dad who bought her first album ‘Lungs’ when I was 13 and that was it for me. Her voice was this captivating mix of Kate Bush and PJ Harvey that I had never experienced before. She instantly became my favourite female artist around. Vocally, I could never even begin to match what she does, but god knows I try. Lyrically, I can only dream of writing the beautifully twisted and dark romantic content she does so effortlessly; like a female Nick Cave. Her first two albums documented moments in time in my life that I can remember with some nostalgia, but when her third, ‘How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful’ came out, that was an album I so badly needed at that time in my life. I was 19, I was hopped up on another batch of anti-depressants, my self harm was back with a vengeance and I was the loneliest I had ever been. I had no hope at that point in time. I still go through horrific periods of that feeling, but that album documented all my feelings. So much so, I ended up getting a tattoo inspired by the song ‘Various Storms and Saints’ which stands as my favourite Florence song of all time. She has been so open with her mental health struggles, especially eating disorders, which continues to be so stigmatised in today’s culture. I’ve been very fortunate to see this queen live three times since 2012 and she’s as beautiful and talented in person as she is on record. She always shines a light on my darkest days.

Hayley Williams

Hayley Williams will live on as my “emo queen” for the rest of my life. I first became a Paramore fan when I was 11 years old, just as ‘Riot!’ came out. I started buying bright coloured skinny jeans because of her. I wanted to dye my hair because of her (I’m thankful I’ve never touched my hair now and my parents decided against it!) I just always wanted to be Hayley. That voice was soaring. She’s written songs I’ve screamed, cried and danced along to, sometimes all at once. Paramore is so important and inspiring to me, but she’s recently come out and done her own solo record. It’s due out in May but she released the first part earlier this year. She’s only started opening up about her mental health over the last couple of years, and it’s been so refreshing to me and so many other fans. Her stark honesty of suicidal thoughts, loneliness and not feeling good enough to do anything resonates with me so much at this current moment in time.
I’ve only been lucky enough to see Paramore once, but I couldn’t take my eyes off Hayley. Her voice can go from being the loudest thing in the room to the quietest, softest noise in the world. She’s also a lot more active on social media nowadays, which is so lovely to see her being herself and comfortable enough to let us fans witness that. Although we don’t know her personally, she’s always come across as someone who’s so humble, easygoing and lovable, and it’s always had a calming influence on me. I know she sings in ‘Idle Worship’ that “I’m not your superhuman, and if that’s what you want, I hate to let you down,” but she’ll continue to be my hero.

I’m going to do one more because this is more emotionally exhausting than I thought…
I saved the hardest for last. (Typical!)

Chris Cornell

Chris Cornell taken by Ken Settle just hours before his death in Detroit. 17/5/17

Chris Cornell. I’ve mentioned him a lot in previous blog posts. I haven’t properly written something this hard hitting in a while though, so bear with me.
Strong, silent, mysterious, vocally otherworldly, beautiful, unassuming…the list goes on. I could write sonnets about how brilliant Chris was. No person could physically hurt my heart with lyrics the way he did. No one can make the hair stand on the back of my neck the way he could with his voice. I first started listening to Soundgarden as a toddler. I was obsessed with the creepy video for ‘Black Hole Sun’ and I’ve never looked back since. I was hooked and got excited every time I saw one of their videos come on.
Chris has been writing songs since the mid 80s and his band Soundgarden were catapulted into the “grunge wave” in the early 90s. It was apparent, even back then, that he struggled with his mental health and addiction. Lyrically, you could hear it on tracks such as ‘Like Suicide,’ ‘Fell On Black Days’ and ‘Blow Up The Outside World.’ As time went on and he got clean in 2002 and entered a new band called Audioslave, his voice was still insane, he was still writing starkly open and honest lyrics about his struggles.
He continued to be clean and sober all the way through a Soundgarden reunion in 2010, a Temple of the Dog reunion tour in 2016 and an array of solo tours over the course of the late 2000s until 2016.
At the tail end of his solo tour in support of his final record ‘Higher Truth,’ you could tell in videos he was a little bit off. Vocally, he was still magnificent but his general manner was a little off. Soundgarden then back on the road in April 2017, I saw a fair few videos during this time and you could tell by Chris’ eyes that he just didn’t seem “there” at all.
May 17th 2017, I’m sat in bed at 2am watching grainy livestream videos from Soundgarden’s show live in Detroit. Chris’ voice and the band were on top form, but Chris was noticeably slurring every so often. I went to work the next morning as usual (exhausted and wanting to die) and as I got in the door, my phone was going insane in my pocket. My brother, who I couldn’t believe was up at 9am, had sent me a bunch of texts. I don’t remember much; all I can remember is the static noise in my ears, the thumping migraine that developed and my stomach churning. The texts read: “Chris Cornell has died. Aged 52. Out of nowhere too.” I then got one not long after saying “Suspected suicide by hanging.” I spent my whole shift feeling like I had cotton wool for a brain. I was numb. My hero wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be. I was lying in my bed 7 hours earlier watching him sing his heart out.
It came out within 48 hours after his death that he did have anxiety medication in his system, not an “overdose” amount but the potential side effects of the medication he was on did list ‘suicidal ideation.’
It’s almost been three years and I miss him terribly. His voice spanned four octaves, he was the epitome of rockstar, but he was the most humble and quiet man in rock and didn’t want that label. I carry him not only through a tribute tattoo, but I even have a necklace to constantly feel like I have him around. It may sound crazy, but it helps me through.
He spoke so candidly about his struggles with his mental health and it tears me up that no one could help him before he was taken away far too soon. I will love, idolise and remember him forever. He’ll never be replaced.

I’m going to list some honourable mentions (check them all out. They’re all huge heroes of mine)
Shirley Manson of Garbage
Stevie Nicks of Fleetwood Mac
Simon Neil of Biffy Clyro
Brian Molko of Placebo
Kurt Cobain of Nirvana
Joan Jett
Ann and Nancy Wilson of Heart
Robert Smith of The Cure

Thank you for letting me waffle on. It was extremely therapeutic.
If anyone is struggling with anything I’ve mentioned in this post, please seek out an appointment with your GP or Samaritans is available to call on 116 123 or email on jo@samaritans.org or if it’s an emergency, please contact 999.
I’m available to listen if anyone does want to message me. Remember, I’m not a professional or trained in mental health. I can only talk about what I’ve gone through and what I do to help myself, but I am more than happy to be an ear.

Thank you x

World Mental Health Day 2019

In less than 12 weeks we’ll be heading into a brand new decade. Am I sad to be leaving behind the past 10 years? Well, I’ve experienced some incredible things, including ONE HUNDRED live shows, I’ve made beautiful friendships and relationships that I never thought I’d be able to have in my life, I’ve performed sets at a festival, I got my diploma in Music Performance & I’ve managed to kick my arse enough to write more than 200 songs in the last 10 years…but mentally? Mentally, I’m still stuck at square one. I forever feel like I’m held on pause and have been since the day I got diagnosed with my clinical depression and anxiety in 2009.

Opening up about this was something I never thought I’d be able to do until someone very close to me said “You’re so eloquent and brutally honest about it, I think it’d help so many people.” Me? Eloquent? You’re mad. But something that I will never shy away from is how deeply exhausting, unsettling and downright terrifying it is to live with any mental health illness. I’m not here to glorify it. I’m not here to tell you how you should be feeling. But I am going to tell you, whether you realise it or not, you encounter at least one person a day with some form of mental health issue, so be kind and patient, as it’s now estimated 1 in 4 people in this country alone suffers with at least one mental illness.

Just a week ago, I was back in the doctor filling another prescription for a new batch of medication again. I’m back on antidepressants, much to my dismay, but I have everything crossed they start to make me feel a little more human in the next couple of weeks. (Once the excessive sweating, nausea and dizziness wears off! The joy of side effects, eh?!) I only agreed to go back on them because my brilliant psychiatrist agreed that I need to explore that, go to an anxiety specialist and see someone about my Asperger’s & possible eating disorder.

I say “possible eating disorder” because I wholeheartedly disagree that I suffer with any form of eating disorder. Yes, I have body dysmorphia, but I’ve never in a million years once thought I ever had an ED until it got sent to me and my GP in black and white from a medical professional saying “Claire’s BMI has fallen to less than what it was when she first started getting seen in 2009. This needs attention.”

It’s not just weight to me. I have two skin conditions which has left me unable to wear make-up for the last 10 years. I have no mask to hide behind. Mirrors are my sworn enemies and I cry about my appearance on a daily basis. I’m constantly surrounded by beautifully made up people and I stand in my bathroom for at least 20 minutes before going to work everyday picking at my skin, trying to place my hair properly to hide my psoriasis in my hairline and position my glasses well enough to hide the massive patch between my eyebrows that flares up when I’m stressed (which is almost always!) So when my weight’s brought up, it’s a touchy subject. I didn’t eat much as a kid because we didn’t have much growing up, so portions were small, and I managed to feel full on little. It’s something I’ve somehow managed to maintain; feeling very full awfully quick, but I never thought it was an issue.

Juggling a potential eating disorder, depressive states, anxiety ridden attacks, insomnia my Asperger’s and my now diagnosed borderline personality disorder, has consumed my entire being. I forever feel like a list of issues and potential problems, and all I really want to do is write and talk about music and immerse myself in my only escape. But the stigma around mental health is still rife and it bothers me. I hold down a full time job with a nationwide company and I’ve never heard one word about mental health spoken about. Every company, no matter how big or small, needs to get some form of set-up to help mentally ill staff out, just like they do when anyone with a physical disability works for them.

I once described living with both depression and anxiety to not caring about not getting invited to a party but spending the whole night worrying that everyone at said party is talking and laughing about you. That is my mind constantly. The amount of times this week alone I’ve said to customers “no bother” or “no worries” and got both words confused and ended up saying “no wother!” makes me feel rather queasy to be honest. And getting yourself to realise that those customers will end up forgetting that the second they’re out the door is so hard, you keep yourself awake at night over it. At the end of the day, as hard as it is, you just have to laugh about it because if not, you’ll cry over it. (Which I’m 100x better at doing, but I’m trying!)

I started to become more open about my own mental health because I longed for someone to speak honestly about it. As ashamed as I am to, I can say I still relapse with my self harm and I’m 23. That’s more than half of my life I’ve succumbed to harming myself over things that, more often than not, aren’t my fault. But it’s a problem I’m open to talking about if anyone ever wanted to.

Being 23, most people on your Facebook feed are graduating, getting married, having babies or going on holiday. I can talk about your holiday and graduation for a bit, no problem. Your wedding? I can paste a smile on and get through that but your children? I even feel awkward acknowledging children. They don’t like me, I don’t like them, we made that deal at least 20 years ago and I welcome more pictures of your pets on my feed than your children.

I joke. (I don’t.) Being this age comes with so many hurdles, and the last thing we need is mental health issues, but some of us have them and I’m more than willing to help anyone out. I find small talk very difficult, but if anyone had a genuine problem, even if they barely know me, I am more than happy to sit and listen to them because so many people have been that patient with me over the last couple of years.

Also, don’t belittle the mentally ill who choose medication because it’s “the easy way.” I, along with millions of others, battle and moan daily over the fact we’re on meds. I’ve been on and off medication for 10 years and it’s tiring. Exercise may work for some, therapy may work for you (talking therapy has been my No.1 for a long time!) and a mix of those along with medication may work for others. We all fight the daily battle in our own way and belittling someone else’s progress doesn’t make yours any easier or quicker to fight.

Be nice to each other. Talk to each other. If you think someone’s struggling, throw them a message. What’s the harm? You might be the only person who’s spoken to them in god knows how long.

Here’s a song I like to cry along to on a regular basis. It hits just as hard as it did when I first heard it 2 and a half years ago.

“Reality will break your heart, survival will not be the hardest part. It’s keeping all your hopes alive, when all the rest of you has died, so let it break your heart…”

Thank you for letting me ramble. Look after each other x.

Say Hello To Heaven…

Grief. It’s a funny old thing.

From a young age I was quite detached from everything; I’d rather be alone & enjoy my interests uninterrupted than talk to people. I preferred my own company & dealing with my emotions alone. My Granddad on my dad’s side passed away when I was 13, that was the first “big death” in my life. The funeral happened in the same week, so I managed to deal with my grief within a week or so. I can look back on him with a fondness; I don’t cry, and I don’t feel upset. It’s a strange thing to say, I guess. And everyone who knows me knows I could probably outcry everyone.

The next death that hit my family was my Granddad on my mum’s side when I was 15. I saw him maybe once every 2/3 years if I was lucky. I wasn’t very attached to him, but I’m pretty sure I was the only grandchild in my family who didn’t go to the funeral. I still often feel my mum may resent me for that. I can understand why, but I was in the middle of studying for exams. I didn’t need to grieve, simply because I wasn’t very sad over it as I barely knew him. It may sound callous & cruel, but I couldn’t make myself upset over something that I couldn’t shed any tears over.

I’m incredibly grateful I haven’t suffered with a huge amount of loss, because I know in so many cases most people aren’t that fortunate, and my heart goes out to those people. It’s one of the hardest things in life that happen to vocalise what you’re feeling; every emotion seems to hit you at once.

In 2016, we had to deal with two massive losses in the music world: David Bowie & Prince. Now, anyone who knows me knows I’m beyond obsessed with music. That pair especially had such an incredibly massive influence on me since I started listening to, performing and writing music. So much so, I even have a Bowie tattoo! I can listen to them now & keep composed for the most part. But they were what I like to call “ the untouchables.” They were two musicians I knew I’d never see live. I’d never meet them. I knew they were just so big; they were two humans who just seemed superhuman to the rest of the world.

Actually, an upsetting wee fact: I was geared up to get tickets to see a stripped back Prince show in Glasgow in November 2015, until he pulled the shows just days before the tickets went onsale, due to the Paris attacks. I was gutted. And then he died 5 months later. Which just stuck the knife in deeper. He was one of my all time dream performers to see live. I guess I just wasn’t lucky enough to witness such genius talent.

 

I was pretty much back to my old self by the end of 2016. I could listen to Bowie & Prince and understand that they were insanely talented performers, both of whom I probably wouldn’t have ever seen live, and I was at peace with that.

I thought the music world in 2017 might’ve been a bit nicer to me. And then May 18th hit: I went to work quite the thing, sat down at my desk and I had texts from my brother. At 9am. In the middle of the week. Completely unheard of. I hadn’t put on my radio yet. I hadn’t been online yet. I unlocked my phone & I thought my heart was going to fall out of my fucking mouth. My brother simply texted me in three separate texts: “Chris Cornell has died. Aged 52. Out of nowhere too.” And that was it. I don’t really remember the rest of that shift. It was such a blur.

Chris Cornell had killed himself? A man I had been listening to, idolising & trying my hardest to sound even the slightest bit like him & failing, since I could remember? That couldn’t be true ‘cause I was just sat in bed mere hours ago watching patchy livestreams of Soundgarden in Detroit? My heart was shattered.

What can I say about Chris Cornell? He was one of the very first voices I heard as a child, and what a voice that was. Between Soundgarden, Audioslave, Temple Of The Dog & his solo work, he was just an insane talent. I envied him. I was fascinated by him.

He was this gorgeous, wild, undeniable talent; he loved his fans, he loved his family & he loved his music. And we fucking lost him at the age of 52. Chris’ voice, lyrics & music was a huge anchor for me when I went through anything remotely difficult; especially when I was 7 after my parents separated. Music was my anchor from such a young age; I wouldn’t go anywhere without my bulky Sony Walkman & a carrier bag full of CDs. They were my escape. They were, as weird as it sounds, my friends.

When I found out Chris was going to be playing a solo show in Glasgow in 2016, I was beyond excited. I had been waiting such a huge chunk of my life to see him, one of the only heroes of mine I was yet to see live. Unfortunately tickets sold out so quick, I never got them in time. I didn’t get too upset as I knew Soundgarden would probably come over to tour in 2017…oh how wrong I was.

I don’t know if that’s factored into me still being this torn up about it; never getting the chance to see him live. I’ve never cried over the loss of a human being so much. I have a ‘Black Hole Sun’ tattoo in memory of him being a huge part of my musical upbringing. I got it within days of him passing. To be honest, that whole week went by in the biggest blur to me, I barely even remember getting it. I felt pathetic. I still feel pathetic for being this sad over it. I even went back to counseling for 6 months to try and deal with my feelings properly. I was sick of crying to Josh, who’s been a saint with me through this. I know so many people who have told me “you didn’t know him, get over it.” His music has been a part of my life for so long, it’s never going to fully go away.

My counsellor made me realise that my feelings were valid. I have no way of getting complete closure as I didn’t personally know him. All I can do is continue to see him as a hero & as a huge inspiration. I still cry over it on an almost daily basis. And it’s bloody difficult to listen to his voice some days.

His music has helped me through countless situations. Situations I thought I wasn’t going to get out of alive. And it saddens me that no one was able to help him in time before he took his own life, just an hour after he got offstage after a Soundgarden concert in Detroit.

He famously sang ‘no one sings like you anymore’ in Black Hole Sun. No lyric has ever rung more true. No lyric has hit a Chris Cornell fan harder than that in the last 12 months. I even got this Black Hole Sun tattoo within a couple days of him passing. Thinking it’d ease my grief a bit. I was still numb. I still couldn’t believe he was actually gone.

I get told “at least you still have his music” a lot. I’m truly grateful for that. But he was 52. His voice was still spectacular, his live performances were stellar…he still had THAT voice. And we had to say goodbye to that at least two decades too early. For a man who has undoubtedly saved thousands of lives through his words, it breaks my fucking heart that no one could save his.

These musicians, these people who soundtrack our lives…when they die, of course we’re going to feel like a part of us have gone with them. They’ve been around for some of the biggest moments of our lives. Music is absolutely unbelievable. This tweet just sums it up perfectly:

Tom Morello, his former Audioslave bandmate, penned this beautiful tribute to Chris: “Chris is as melodic as the Beatles, he’s as heavy as Sabbath, he’s as haunting as Edgar Allen Poe. Thank you, Sunshower. Thank you for your love, your friendship, your peerless talent. The body is weak. The psyche is fragile. Things decay and are gone in time. Gardens turn gray. But, Chris, I know two things that are fucking invincible and will endure forever, your beautiful voice and our love for you.”

This blog post weirdly falls on Mental Health Awareness week. Ask someone how they are. Small talk really could save someone’s life.

No should have to deal with their grief alone. I’ve called Samaritans up during the darkest hours of the night just to cry sometimes. I very nearly collapsed during a panic attack when my GP brought up how I was feeling about Chris’ death. I’m only so open about everything I go through mentally in hope that it’ll help just one person. Because I know how dark it is to go through things feeling like you’re completely alone, like you’re the only person this has ever happened to. But you’re not. There’s so many options you have to get help. And as I tell everyone, I don’t care if you barely know me, if you ever need to talk to someone, I’m happy to listen ‘cause I couldn’t bear the thought of someone feeling as low as I’ve felt before. And hug your friends & family. Go to gigs. Immerse yourself in the music that’s been the hand to pull you from the edge. Don’t be afraid to tell someone you need a bit of help.

I can’t believe it’s been a year already. I love you. I miss you. Always. x.

 

I hope I haven’t babbled on too much.

Thank you,

Claire x.

Time To Talk

Thursday the 1st of February will mark ‘Time To Talk’ day.

Many mental health charities are working to eliminate the stigma surrounding mental health. It shouldn’t be something that anyone should feel ashamed to talk about.

For years I never entertained the idea of opening up about my mental health issues to anyone who wasn’t a medically trained professional. It was only in the last handful of years where I found myself opening up to my parents & my close friends a bit more, and I was finding it a lot more helpful than I imagined.

I’ve been struggling with my mental health for almost 12 years; I started self harming at 10, I was diagnosed with clinical depression, generalised anxiety disorder & insomnia at 13, and then body dysmorphic disorder about nine months later. By the time I was 14, I felt like I was just a list of mental health issues and I had absolutely no hope. I’ve been to so many different therapists, counsellors & psychiatrists & put on so much medication, I’ve lose count. I lost so much of my teenage years feeling trapped in this suffocating bubble. I was certain I wasn’t going to make it to 19. That’s terrifying. No one, of any age, should ever feel like they can sit down and make peace with the idea that they might not live past another handful of months.

Pushing yourself to get to step one of helping yourself out of a situation like this is honestly the hardest part of it all. Making that first appointment with your GP, phoning a helpline, telling your parents or telling your closest friend is beyond terrifying. Even thinking back to when I first made that step at 13 is enough to break me out into a rash. But it’s progress. It might not seem like it, but telling yourself you need help, telling yourself you can’t handle everyone on your own, isn’t a sign of weakness, it’s actually incredibly brave.

Relapses happen. I still beat myself up stupid when it happens to me. I fall back into old habits all the time. No one’s superhuman. Everyone has moments where they feel like they have nowhere to turn. And it’s not the end of the world. As long as you realise there’s always a way to help yourself out of that rut.

My most recent councillor has been my most helpful ally I could’ve asked for, especially during times where I’ve turned to bad habits on a regular basis again.

She never once judged me. I’d go in some weeks and take 15 minutes to say a word, and others I’d go in & not shut up, I’d not stop crying, I’d be a snotty, sobbing mess, and she’d still be there to help me. They’re unsung heroes.

I went to my GP last June feeling empty, feeling like I was walking around like a zombie, feeling so hopeless that I would quite happily walk into oncoming traffic.

I didn’t know at the time it was grief. I didn’t think grief could be quite this consuming. And then May 18th hit last year.

I went to work quite the thing, sat down at my desk and I glanced at my phone & I had three unread messages from my brother, which was extremely out of the ordinary considering we lived in the same house at the time & he’d see me in a few hours.

I hadn’t put on my radio yet. I hadn’t been online yet. I looked at the texts and they read “Chris Cornell has died. Aged 52. Out of nowhere too.”

And that was it. I became an absolute wreck.

What can I say about Chris Cornell? He was one of the very first voices I heard as a child.

Between the three bands he was a part of & his solo work, I loved it all. I looked up to him like he was some untouchable godlike being. I was fascinated by him. He was this gorgeous, wild, undeniable talent. He constantly gushed about his fans, his wife and kids, & his music. And he was gone? Just like that? I simply couldn’t fathom it.

When I found out Chris was going to be playing a solo show in Glasgow in 2016, I was beyond excited. Unfortunately tickets sold out so quick, I never got them. And I didn’t think that would be my last opportunity to see him live before he took his own life just a year later. I don’t even have concert memories to cherish. That crushed me.

I got a ‘Black Hole Sun’ tattoo in memory of him two days after he died. That was one of the first songs I ever remember hearing as a toddler. I remember the first time I saw that music video as clear as day.

I couldn’t eat, I could barely sleep and I threw myself so much into work, I lost myself. I would take literally every hour of work I could, and thank god I had people in my life who noticed how out of control & rundown I’d gotten & begged me to go back into counseling, because god knows what I would’ve ended up doing.

My GP got me referred. I felt weak. I felt pathetic. Here I was sat in front of a counsellor for the first time, sobbing over a man I didn’t know and he didn’t know me. I didn’t even cry over the two grandparents I’ve lost in my lifetime. I felt unbelievably guilty about that. But over the few months I went to sessions, I slowly got to grips with the fact my feelings were 100% valid. Music is the biggest part of my life. I was allowed to grieve over someone who has made such a huge impact in my life. I can safely say if I didn’t have the anchor of my favourite bands over the last decade or so, I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t be sat here wanting to strive to make the stigma surrounding mental health disappear for good. At the end of the day, no matter how big or small you think whatever’s getting you so down over, it’s completely valid. Nothing in the world should ever make you feel so small & worthless.

I still have feelings of hopelessness. I still cry every day. I still relapse. But I’m also still here. I’m aware that I have lifelines. I know that even if I feel like I’ve hit rock bottom, I know deep down it’s not “pathetic” or “selfish” of me to ask for help. I can phone my GP or I can phone a helpline. No one who struggles has to struggle on their own. And that’s the main thing with mental health: You could have a list of issues as long as your arm, you can feel so ridiculously helpless that you feel like nothing will pull you out of this neverending black hole. But there always is, you just have to get past that first, undeniably difficult, hurdle. There may be tears, you may feel a sense of defeat, but getting on that first step to help yourself is the biggest weight off your shoulders.

There’s still people out there who feel like it’s OK to tell someone who feels so low, someone who doesn’t even want to be alive anymore, to “cheer up” or “slap a smile on” or “get on with it.” People who haven’t taken the time to even attempt to understand what mental health is like to live with. People who don’t understand what it’s like to feel so consumed with self loathing, sadness and the task of feeling like you have to keep everybody else around you happy when you can’t even remember the last time you were even the slightest bit happy. It’s mentally AND physically exhausting. It’s not to be ignored or scoffed at.

No one asks to have any form of depression. No one asks to have any form of anxiety. No one asks to be suicidal.

If you saw someone with a broken limb, you’d be sympathetic and tell them you hope they get better soon right? So why would you dismiss someone’s feelings of hopelessness just because you can’t physically see it? Mental health is EQUALLY important as physical health. It should be treated no differently.

I don’t like to limit things to just one day as everyone should do this all the time, but on the 1st of February, please take the time to ask someone how they’re doing. Take the time to help break down the barriers and combat mental health stigma by just merely talking to someone. Whether you know someone who’s going through issues, or if you’re going through something yourself, take some time out, sit down & have a chat with someone. It doesn’t even have to be a serious conversation, I myself just like to have the company and the freedom to talk about anything we want to gab about. It takes my mind off intrusive thoughts for a bit.

I know I talk about it a lot, but Samaritans & Papyrus are phenomenal charities run solely on volunteers who are there to help you in times of trouble. Your GP is another person who I’d recommend going to see as they can move you on further to counseling, CBT and/or medication. They’re there purely to help you, not to judge you.

Apologies for a very word-y blog this week, but it’s something I’m so passionate about. I’m happy enough to share my own experiences, as it may help someone in the long run, so I hope you’ve taken something away from this blog, even if it’s just the tiniest thing.

Thank you so much for reading, it means the world.

Claire. x.

The Day(s) I Tried To Live.

T/W: mentions of suicidal thoughts, anxiety & depression.

It’s 2018 already?! Happy New Year, everyone!

It’s only been the first week and I’ve struggled with a hell of a lot.

Social events is the main thing. The joys of the festive period!

Everyone seems to be dead excited seeing family & friends, which of course I am, but it takes about a 6 hour pep talk to myself, which consists of me (trying to) persuade myself that “it’ll be fine” and “you’ll have fun once you get there.”

It’s a constant battle having anxiety, because once I go out, I spend the first 2-3 hours having this mental cap on everything I say, so I say no more than a handful of words at a time in case I say the wrong thing.

The only way I proper loosen up & talk a bit more is drinking, which is the complete wrong way to cope with things, so I try not to rely on it too much anymore. I also rely on the person/people I know really well at these events to keep me occupied and I use them as a crutch. I hate relying on people, I feel like such a burden, but it keeps me nervously emptying my stomach on the floor, so I unfortunately have to take that decision to save myself from further embarrassment.

I struggle to keep conversation going past a sentence with anyone new I meet, unless it’s about cats or music, and if you partake in either of those conversations, then you have to suffer with my verbal diarrhoea for the foreseeable.

I’ve blown off so many events in my life purely because I feel like everyone would be better off without me there. I’d mostly rather be in my room writing music, or listening to music, avoiding people is the main thing. And I wish I loved socialising, but I get this horrific, gnawing feeling in my stomach at the prospect of meeting new people, so I’d much rather avoid it.

I’m slowly getting a wee bit better. I have relapses a hell of a lot with my anxiety, as well as with everything else, but I try to find little things to keep my mind occupied during events, such as thinking “it’s only a few hours, you’ll be back with your music in no time, just slap on a smile, and get on with it.”

According to my counsellor, and literally everyone else I know in my life, I’m apparently “the worst” at accepting compliments. I get painfully embarrassed, and I will snap back with a shitty thing about myself when someone pays me a compliment.

My wonderful counsellor always says “are you not proud that you went that long without doing that? That’s a huge achievement.” And I’m like…”No? Because I still wanted to stab myself in the arm the second I open my mouth in a social situation, but I’m not congratulating myself for not doing it. That’s silly.”

I just cannot fathom being proud of myself. I don’t know why. I feel like I’ve always been that way.

A silly thing that happened at the start of the week was the fact I wore a dress for the first time since I was 9 (yes, 12 & a half years ago) at an event. I felt ridiculous the entire time, I wanted nothing more than to get back into my jeans & hoodie & hide my wobbly body from everyone, but I wanted to push myself a little out of my comfort zone. Every single person I know reacted with things like “You?! In a dress?!” It’s just something I don’t do. I’ve been wearing the same type of clothes since I was a little one, I just don’t do fancy. I felt like anytime I moved the other night, someone was staring at me, and all I wanted to do was hide out in the bathroom & cry for a couple hours. But I didn’t. I’m not congratulating myself for it either. People do incredible things all over the world everyday, me wearing a fucking dress isn’t one of them. I hold back my compliments for people that deserve them, and Claire wearing a dress doesn’t.

I throw myself into things I love if I’m faced with an anxiety attack inducing situation; I write, I listen to music or I read. Samaritans, I’ve mentioned them a bunch, usually when it’s it do with suicidal thoughts, but they’re extremely helpful if you are in the midst of an anxiety attack, or just struggling in general. They’ve without a doubt saved my life a bunch of times over the last few years, I can’t compliment them enough for what they do. They’re incredible.

If you think you have social anxiety, or any form of anxiety at all, please please please go & see your GP. That’s the hardest and biggest thing to do, but once you get that ball rolling, you’ll feel a weight slowly lift. You may be referred to counselling, you may be put on medication, or you might do both. I’ve had over 9 years of experience with both, more so the former (I don’t do well on meds, but it’s different for everyone.)

This wouldn’t be a Claire blog without some music too. The beautiful, my favourite, the late, great Chris Cornell wrote this beauty in Soundgarden, back in 1994.

This is what he said about the song in Rolling Stone in ’94:

“It’s about trying to step out of being patterned and closed off and reclusive, which I’ve always had a problem with. It’s about attempting to be normal and just go out and be around other people and hang out. I have a tendency to sometimes be pretty closed off and not see people for long periods of time and not call anyone.

It’s actually, in a way, a hopeful song. Especially the lines “One more time around/Might get it,” which is basically saying, “I tried today to understand and belong and get along with other people, and I failed, but I’ll probably try again tomorrow.” A lot of people misinterpreted that song as a suicide-note song. Taking the word live too literally. “The Day I Tried to Live” means more like the day I actually tried to open up myself and experience everything that’s going on around me as opposed to blowing it all off and hiding in a cave.”

 

 

 

I can sadly relate to this WAY too much, it hurts. I relate to so many songs Chris wrote, especially stuff he wrote for ‘Superunknown.’ He always flawlessly conveyed his depression & anxiety into music that touches so many people. That’s the one upside to Chris’ music: it gets hundreds of thousands of us fans through our own struggles, whether it be family related, mental health related, work related etc. Music is truly amazing.

If anyone reads this and wants to talk further, needs help or any information at all, I’m always happy to do so. I know how horrible it is to feel like you’re on your own in a bubble, with no way to escape it.

Also, if you’ve read this at all, I hope you have a wonderful 2018.

Thank you so much,

Claire. x.

We’re all fake happy.

Music is such a fabulous thing. Can you believe there’s a song for literally every single emotion? Isn’t it incredible?!

I’ve been writing songs since I was about 13. It’s been one of the greatest coping methods for my anxiety and depression. But it has it’s downfalls occasionally; I tend not to tell people anything, instead, I write it down and that’s my outlet for all my emotions. I feel so fucking weak and ashamed crying in front of people, it’s not a good way to be. I’m getting a bit better at telling people how I feel, but music will always be my number one outlet, I guess.

Music has been detrimental to the wellbeing of my mental health. So much so, I’ve decided to choose my top 5 songs that have had a massive hold on me this year, whether it’s through the music and/or the lyrics. I’ve been able to relate to all these songs so much, that it can scare the shit out of me sometimes.

I’ve chosen my favourite live versions of these songs. I feel like a live version is always so much more powerful than a studio version, it feels 100x more passionate in my opinion.

I hope you see songs you know, or have heard of but haven’t got around to listening to. I hope you find a new favourite song, or a song worthy enough of sticking on a playlist you can listen to when gazing out of a car window when it’s raining.

Number Five:

Wee Declan McKenna! What a talent. 18 years old and writing songs I could only ever dream of writing.

‘Humongous’ is such a beautiful song; with it’s poppy demeanour, you think it’s quite an upbeat little song. He’s 17, of course it’s gonna be! Right?! I thought that until I decided to learn it on piano and came across the chorus and second verse lyrics:

“I’m big, humongous, enormous and small
And it’s not fair that I am nothing and nobody’s there
Do you care?

Don’t tell me I’m not, I’m not smart or I’m not worthy
I know, I couldn’t let that go.”

I think we’ve all felt like that at some point, but for someone so young to just get it so much that he can write it plainly in black and white?! He’s a hero for putting what I’ve been trying to write for YEARS into words. I really hope you love this song even half as much as I do.

Number Four:

What can I say? Good ol’ ex-boyband member Harry Styles has seriously fucking knocked it out of the park. I can 100% back this statement up as I’ve had the pleasure of seeing the entirety of his new record live last month, and it was insane. You can hear and see his Rolling Stones, Pink Floyd and even Shania Twain influences as clear as day, but it goes further than that; he can seriously write lyrics that hit you so bloody deep, it’s ridiculous.

This song is the opener of his new record, and my favourite may I add.

The last verse is beautiful, elusive & so emotional to me. It’s so simple, yet way too effective it makes me tear up every time I hear it:

“We don’t talk about it
It’s something we don’t do
‘Cause once you go without it
Nothing else will do”

The repetition of ‘I gotta get better’ in the chorus is sung with such power, it’s enough to send even the toughest person over the edge. A wonderful track from a surprisingly wonderful album.

Number Three:

I first heard about these guys when I saw them support Muse live last year, and I’ve been obsessed ever since. An incredible band, with such a powerful, emotive & insanely talented vocalist called Connor.

Connor’s been quite vocal about his battle with depression, and this version of Particles is one of the most divine pieces of music I’ve heard this year.

The second verse…what can I say apart from I can relate to this 24/7?!

“Babe, I don’t wanna make a scene
But I get self-destructive
And it’s driving you away
It’s driving you away
Piece by piece
Day by day”

The last verse as well, it’s just so pleading, that it scares me quite a bit at HOW much I can relate to this.

“My mind plays tricks

And I don’t sleep no more
And doctor please
I can’t switch off”

It’s one of the most honest songs about at the moment, especially the struggle with mental health, and I hope you find it just as tearjerking as I do.

Number Two:

Oh Paramore! I’m over the moon they released a new record this year that’s on the surface, the poppiest they’ve ever sounded, but lyrically, it’s by far the darkest.

Hayley’s come out to say she’s never been so down within herself in her life, and it’s turned into this fab record.

Fake Happy is that record you can put on and dance around like a maniac in your room to, as well as cry at the same time. And I love that about it.

The chorus describes perfectly what it’s like to have people constantly asking you “are you alright?”

“Oh please don’t ask me how I’ve been
Don’t make me play pretend
Oh no, oh what’s the use
Oh please, I bet everybody here is fake happy too”

God bless Hayley Williams for finally putting my feelings into words that I cannot only cry to, but dance to at the very same time.

And now onto Number One….

We’ve all had that “heartbroken” feeling right? I was always that person who was like “Pfft! Me?! Love someone?! Be an idiot and love someone?! Fuck being in love, who needs it?” Until someone broke my fucking heart almost a year ago, unknowingly too which is ever the more frustrating.

This song came at a time where I needed it the most; I was in that stage of wanting to get over wallowing about it, but keep writing about it. Lorde is a genius. Bold statement, but she’s a phenomenal songwriter. And this Kate Bush-esque beauty is a 4 minute wonder on her new record.

“Now she’s gonna play and sing and lock you in her heart
Bet you rue the day you kissed a writer in the dark”

Honestly, pity the people who hurt anyone who writes songs. You give us so much material, it’s borderline insanity sometimes. And Lorde captures that in just two lines.

But the two lines that hit me ever so deeply every time are:

“But in our darkest hours, I stumbled on a secret power
I’ll find a way to be without you, babe”

It’s hard. It’s unbelievably hard to just cut someone out of your life, no matter how much you know it’s going to benefit you and your mental health. You don’t need people who cut you down or treat you like dirt any chance they get. And ‘Writer In The Dark’ was the song that I needed to try and teach myself that.

I’m so excited to see how many songs are gonna change my life/mentality/the way I write music in 2018.

Thank you for reading this. I hope you’ve found a new song to love.

Claire. xo.

 

Take the pieces & build them skywards…

(TW: mentions of anxiety, self harm & depression.)

Anxiety. Just typing the word is enough to send me into a bit of a blind panic to be honest.

Out of everything I could talk about in regards to myself, it’s by far the hardest.

I’ve always been an extremely anxious person, never really wanting to get into any situations, regardless if they’re going to benefit me or not. That’s been the case since I was super young. I never really wanted to interact with other kids much, just in case I was laughed at or ignored. I don’t have many young kids in my life, but the ones I do see, I always go back to when I was their age in my mind, and it terrifies me. You don’t realise how much of your life you’ve spent terrified of most things in the world until you look at a child and think back to what you were like when you were their age.

I apologise for everything I do all the time. I constantly feel like I say or do the wrong thing, and I beat myself up for it, even if the person who I think I’ve upset tells me I haven’t done anything wrong. It’s hard to believe people want you in their lives. It’s hard to believe you’re not annoying 24/7. It’s hard to have anxiety. It’s really bloody hard to live with this inner voice in your head every goddamn day telling you you’re not worth anyone’s time, because that’s exactly what it is. It’s constant. And you have to try so hard to take any compliments you’re given in life, when all you want to do is dismiss them without seeming rude, because surely not? Surely I can’t actually be good at something?! Because my mind definitely tells me day in day out that I’m complete shit.

This is exactly what it feels like:

I remember when I first sang in public at school; I was 15 & I could count all of my friends on less than half of one hand. Both my parents were there and they were both even in agreement that they’d think I’d bottle it. But I didn’t. Of course I was a bag of nerves before I went on, but the second I walked onstage, I was 100% fine. I’ve never felt so much like a different person in my entire life. I wasn’t this anxiety-ridden, depressed mess onstage. I felt like no one had more faith in me than my music teacher. She pushed me so hard from the age of 12 & I swear to god if I didn’t throw myself so much into music as a teenager, I probably wouldn’t be here to write this ramble-y blog today. I have so much to thank her for. She gave me an identity when I didn’t think I’d ever have one. I was very much content with being a wallflower for the rest of my life.

Performing & writing songs is easily when I’m most comfortable within myself. I’m incredibly lucky to be able to go to as many gigs as I do, and every single one just inspires me more & more to keep persevering with writing and bettering myself.  I could talk about music until I’m blue in the face, and I’m so grateful how much both of my parents encouraged me to be that way  from when I was a wee one. I feel no greater happiness than when I’m in a sweaty, packed venue singing along to my favourite songs by my favourite bands in the world. I feel like my anxiety just washes away for a couple of hours, and it’s complete bliss. There’s no other way to describe it really.

Of course there’s the darker side of it all; when I have no gigs to go to, when I have writer’s block etc…that’s when I end up turning to isolating myself or harming myself.

If I’m in a social situation and I feel like I’ve done something wrong, it will send me into a panic attack pretty quickly. I’ve had panic attacks last hours before, they’re not nice. They’re no picnic, but from a pretty young age, I was taught breathing methods by my GP. This gif is also a MASSIVE help, and I hope if you suffer from anxiety attacks, it helps you too. So you can easily save this on your computer/phone/tablet and it’ll be there for whenever those attacks strike.

I’m quite open about everything nowadays, purely because if anyone does actually read this and feels similar feelings to what I’m writing about, I want them to feel like they can muster up the courage to talk to me, a friend, a GP or Samaritans. Samaritans have helped me a ridiculous amount over the years. They’re completely brilliant; they’re genuinely lifesavers.

I beat myself up pretty badly when I relapse with self-harm. I’d self-harm up to five times a day from the ages of 10 & 18 every single day. It was a routine. It was a horrendous routine, but it was a routine nonetheless. I was so lucky to have an incredible psychiatrist who worked with me to help curb it all, until I barely ever did it. Of course relapses happen. That’s natural. But I do the bad thing and beat myself up for DAYS about it. It’s a minor setback, and it shouldn’t be anything to feel bad over. As I said, I still  beat myself up so I’m not exactly the poster girl for self belief or confidence, but it’s all a learning curve.

Writing this wee blog has been helping me unload my bumbling brain a little bit, it’s not exactly bringing my average 2 hours of sleep a night up but hey-ho, a blog ain’t a miracle worker! And I thank every single person who reads this because I know how annoying I am. I piss myself off all the damn time, so apologies to anyone who feels like I’m a giant pain in the ass. (You’re not alone! I’m the first to warn everyone I am one!)

I usually add a song that fits with the blog topic. I’ve been spoilt for choice this week. This song, my god…I’ve seen this song live a fair few times & even just thinking about it makes me cry. Biffy are my second favourite band ever, and they mean the world to me. I hope you enjoy this beautiful live version from 2013.

Thank you for reading this. I know it’s probably not an easy read, as it’s definitely not an easy write, but thank you nonetheless.

Claire 🙂 x.