LHB Blog

A girl, a blog and a cactus named Pudding

Tag: therapy

Anything, everything and nothing

**Not sure if this needs a trigger warning or not but I always like to throw one out here just in case**

Alternative title: I’m sorry I haven’t been here much … I’ve been a little unwell … In fact, I’ve been a rather muddled mess! 

It’s been a while since I last posted on here; I hadn’t forgotten my little place on the internet or the words I have poured into it, I didn’t want to leave it neglected and to disappear into the ether, but I also didn’t feel like I could be here either … Recently my Anxiety, Depression, OCD, OCPD and Grief have all been taking turns to squish my insides, they’ve turned my thoughts into poison, my brain into a traitor and left me distraught at the prospect of another day walking with one or more of those demons clawing at me.

I needed the time out from here to heal up a bit.

I needed the time out from here to focus on what I needed.

I needed the time out from here to ask for help.

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Back to Therapy

**Not sure if there needs to be a warning but hey ho – I’m talking negative body image folks so heads up**

Alternative title: Because sometimes you can’t see the forest for the trees. 

“And how do you feel about yourself?” She asks as she flips over the page of her notebook.

I wish she hadn’t asked me that. I sigh. I furrow my brow. The word is already there, on the tip on my tongue … Acidic. Abrasive. I really wish she hadn’t asked me that.

“I’m … ” I start, the tears already burning my eyes, I don’t want them to fall, I will them to stay where they are, eye balls swimming in them “… Grotesque”.

I say the word with a sickening level of warmth, as though doing so would cushion the meaning of it … It’s a word that my brain uses to taunt my reflection with, my brain never uses warmth.

The word just hangs there in the space between us, her eyes focused on me … I can feel them, I don’t meet them. It just stays there, along with silence … And I can’t decide which is more devastating.

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The OCD Experiment

Alternative title : Because sometimes dealing with OCD is like smashing yourself in the face with a frying pan … Repeatedly.


Brain : “Where do you think you’re going? You can’t just leave the car there … You need to at least check that it’s locked”

Me : “It’s locked … We heard it click. We can see the handle has moved. It’s locked. And it’s parked under a CCTV camera, on the work’s car park, in a bay bigger than most. It’s fine”

Brain : “You’re not listening to me! It’s NOT safe! We can’t just walk away from it!”

Me : “I shouldn’t even be going through this mental check … It’s locked! End of story!”

Brain : “It’s NOT! IT’S NOT SAFE! You only think that it is but it isn’t and someone will steal it and take it joy riding and hit someone and that person will die and it will be all YOUR FAULT because I told you it wasn’t safe and you wouldn’t check it and you are being negligent!…  Stop walking and check the damned door! I’M SERIOUS!”

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