As I sit up in the middle of the night, slowly munching on sour grapes, whilst watching a reality TV drama episode, I have decided that I needed to speak out about the real feelings mother's who suffer with clinical severe anxiety and depression have.

Why? Because sometimes it's so damn hard to come to terms and speak out about mental health, and when you feel the time is now and you're strong enough, you tell your story. It's hard to admit that you struggle and that you need time away to step back and rejuvenate yourself. It's hard to tell your story to the world in hope you help other Mothers, too.

Tonight I have decided to do just that. Tonight have decided to sleep alone in the front room and have some personal space to think about where I am and where I want to be.

You have seen the #breakthestigma hashtag flowing around Twitter in support of mental health, right? Well consider this post to be a mahoosive tweet because 280 characters just isn't enough to tell my story. 

In the past I have spoken about where my mental health started, and the journeys I have conquered. Reason for writing it all on my blog being that I am able to show everyone that what I suffer with is totally normal, and I (and yourself) am not alone in this. There are millions of us. So why is there such a severe amount of stigma for something that is so common? 

Lately, I have been feeling so anxious but I can't put my finger on what is causing it; I have cried and sobbed into my own hands trying to think what is making me feel such a failure; I have argued and shouted at the father's of my children; I have wished that I could pack up my things, grab my passport, and fuck off out of this country; I have thought about my children being better off without me.

I won't. And I never will do anything to be away from them. I will forever adore, provide and protect my children until I die.



Depression and anxiety as a mother is absolutely agonising to say the least. The feelings I feel are sadness, anger, lost, empty, happy, and full filled all at the same time. I am motivated yet I can't bring myself to get ready and go out to do what needs be; I am ready for the day yet so emotionally exhausted that I end up sitting inside playing with the kids instead; I plan on applying for jobs but end up so frickin' scared that I panic and postpone. 

Therapy only got me so far. Support groups did next to nothing. Pills I refuse to even try. The only thing I do now is speak to Adam after being asked over and over to tell him what is wrong with me: I just can't get out of my own head to tell him the truth.

I try to keep my feelings to myself for my children and my boyfriend - my family - to play a great game called Perfect Parent. No one likes to admit they are having a hard time. Putting on a brave face is completely acceptable around your children because you don't want them to know that Mummy isn't happy, Mummy wants to crawl into bed and sleep her days away, and Mummy wishes she was a better person for her babies. 

My children mean the absolute world to me and I would die for them, literally. Honestly what keeps me going is my kids and my fella, without them I would most likely be so depressed that I wouldn't get out of bed, shower, or even eat. I would pretty much go back to my 16 year old self where I starved myself and cut my hand. 

Life hasn't been kind to me. My best friend and second mother got taken away from me so abruptly that I hadn't even had time to come to terms she was terminally ill nevermind die only three months later. It still haunts me; it still rips my heart to shreds and winds me until I can't take another breath. Just the thought of her ruins me completely. I really don't think I will ever really come to terms with her death and be strong enough to put it all in the back of my mind.

As a mother my past really affects me. The shit I have had to deal with, the absolute disgusting thing that I can't tell anyone except my therapist, mum, and fella. My anxiety and depression plays a huge part in my present. I feel like I cant be a mum some days.

Some days I think of an alternative living situation where the kids live with their dad's. Some days I think about a life of pure freedom. Some days I think about these two things and absolutely kill myself for even thinking them. But I am not a bad mum. 

My children are happy. You can see that as soon as you are around them; they are carefree, giggly, hyperactive, clever, amazing, bubbly, and all round incredibly exhausting because i've had to chase them around the house and playing every single game they want to play.



You can comment that I am a bad mum, or I don't deserve my kids, or I should never have been able to pro-create, or I should kill myself etc. But it really wouldn't affect me at all. I know I am a good mum, I know what I am feeling is absolutely normal, I know what I do every day is almost the same as every single mother who suffers with mental health out there. 

You are doing amazing. I am doing amazing. Just keep going, tell your story, and help yourself whilst helping others. You are stronger than you realise.

Mothers aren't perfect. Being a mother is damn hard yet so rewarding. 

Keep going.




Much love,

Its Been 8 Months

Rhea-Jane now 19 months old. Henry 5 months

A lot has happened these past 8 months, and to be honest, I purposely didn't blog because 1. I didn't have the energy, 2. I couldn't be bothered, 3. Once Henry was born he was constantly latched to my boobs, as he was exclusively breastfed for the first 3 months, 4. I moved house early last month. 

Now that Rhea is 19 months old, she is even more independent so she likes to keep her brother happy. She runs over to him when he cries and he instantly perks up; so adorable to watch. I do use instagram stories and post mini videos of them together. Now that both kids are more independent, I have decided to find a blogger app, since the old app fucked up and I had to delete, to make it more accessible and easier for me to publish on the go. The laptop is too slow, too heavy, and too damn interesting to a one year old so I'll never really get to have a go on it.

To be extremely and brutally honest, since I haven't blogged and I've been able to sit back and watch the blogging 'community' from fresh eyes/different angle, I can see that it's not all it was cracked up to be. I honestly thought it was some magical place with fairies and fireworks, but for some reason, 2017 blogosphere is full of fanatics. There are people who blog that are so one-track-minded that it actually blows my mind. 

From the care free to the cliques, from the quiet to the Mean Girls. Unless you're in a certain bubble of big bloggers or a friend of a big Blogger, you're left on the sidewalk waiting for the splash of regret to wash over you. I guess the main goal of blogging, now, is to befriend a biggy, fake it til you make it, be yourself and stick to your guns, or dont bother at all. 

I'm quite lucky that I have been blogging since September 2013, as I have interacted with some of the biggies since they were little mites. Ive watched them thrive, but i have also watched a minority hit a certain amount of followers and suddenly act like the world owes them something. The world owes you nothing m'dears; get off your high horses and remember where you came from.

My children are more well behaved and less dramatic than half of the bloggers nowadays, and that's saying something because Rhea should have about 7 Oscars for her dramatic tantrum periods by now.

On the other hand, there are quite a few ladies that have supported me through everything and my support for them is still strong. I am grateful that these girls have stuck with me through thick and thin even if we don't talk all the time. Just knowing they are there and vise versa really helps.

Anyway, lost track of what i was originally talking about.

Early October, I moved into my new house so I could finally be a family with Adam. We are now a proper family unit; Rhea, Henry, me and Adam. Its been a long time coming and I am so excited that we are doing this massive step together. Its about time I had my family unit I have always dreamt of; Rhea is considered a daughter to Adam and I am so thankful he treats her like his own. No favouritism between the children - perfect. 

Remember when I posted everything about my pregnancy with Rhea and also the Birth Story and Recovery Story? Yeah, well I am not going to do that with Henry because it was so quick there wasn't much to even note. My labour was only 51 minutes long after needing to be induced because the consultants were worried about his weight. I was already 2cm dialated and in slow labour when I went in to be induced at 39+2 weeks pregnant. Pessary worked too fast like with my induction with Rhea, so they took it out this time and broke my waters instead. 

Bibbity bibbity boo, Henry popped out after only a handful of pushes. Born 9th June 2017, weighing 7lbs exactly at 4pm exactly. I even got to take him home the next day as he was perfectly healthy with no issues! They literally could have left me to go into labour myself but since I was already there I might as well get the ball rolling. Did it all natural with no drugs again, felt so proud of myself! 

Adam and my Mum were in the room with me and I have to thank them for their support. However, it was heartbreaking knowing Adam was upset because of how much pain I was in but I love how he told me he was so proud of me.

Did I tell you in past posts that I completed my therapy? Oh well, I did. I couldn't be bothered reading back on old posts haha. 

Right I feel like I've waffled on too much now about a few topics. Just thought I'd give an update. I will be posting more often now so watch out for them on my fb page and my Twitter. I'm sure you already know the links!

Much love, 

Oh, hello Hospital.

If you have been a regular reader of my blog, you would know the complications I had during my pregnancy with Rhea-Jane and all the hospital visits I had, however, with this pregnancy I haven't even done one Pregnancy Diary to keep you lot updated on the happenings so you probably think everything has been hunky-dory.

10 Biggest Pet Peeves

Some of these points may come across petty and bitchy but I really couldn't give a hoot. These are what bug ME. Most of them are small, some of them you will agree with, and some you will just want to slap me for.

The Secret and The Health

For two months I have been hiding away from my blog. Not because I have nothing to talk about, but rather because I have too much to talk about. If you have read my post from my last life update, (if you haven't, shame on you for not catching up - go get reading!) you would would know that me and Alexander are no longer together and I began a relationship with Adam.

The Raw Reality of The NICU by a Real NICU Mum

When you're in labour, you don't think about where your baby may end up. You think the world is one amazing happy place and your baby is going to be placed in your arms all pink and breathing, knowing that in just under 24 hours you will be taking your baby home with you... but what happens when that dream is crushed and your baby is pale white, not breathing, and sent to the NICU Ward?

Where have I been?

August 14th was my last post; shit, sorry! It's been quite a hectic few months especially since Rhea-Jane has been ill for a few weeks with a viral throat infection and she passed it on to me. Plenty to talk about, but honestly, my excuse is that I didn't have the laptop charger and my Blogger Mobile App is a pile of dog shit. 

Being A Blogging Outsider

At the beginning of my blog years, I blogged because I wanted an online diary; I didn't even know a community on twitter existed back in 2013. To be honest, that was the best year for my blog. In my first year, I gained two blogging friends from Malaysia and started an email pen pal sort of thing where every day I spoke to them and learnt about their cultures. Sure, I could of Googled Malaysia and seen what their culture is like, but for two girls that lives there emailing me about it, it felt more educating and personal.