Photos from the Ward... and Beyond (part 2).

So, here is the 2nd part to the post I started before. It has been such a long thing to post and I am only just getting my head around things.

So, from where my last post left off, I was on the Respiratory ward (lucky to have not been in ITU as they had originally thought) and I started to pick up considerably after a nights sleep, support for my breathing and some rather unpleasant and painful doses of IV Clarithromycin and IV Co-Amoxiclav (they really wanted to flush the stuff through my system I swear) I think by that point I really had just wanted to go home, the thing in my hand was uncomfortable and always in the way whenever I tried to do anything. I was glad to have a notebook with me because I wrote down a lot of my thoughts and doodled in pen to just try and amuse myself. It did work and I was feeling a lot more like my usual lively self. Unlike the night before when the consultant came to see me and I was so weak I could barely open my eyes or say a word to him. I think what was funny was that this was a consultant that I had seen many times before and he had once upon a time been unsure that I even had asthma in the first place. He'd seen me since after some of the rather rough attacks that landed me on a ward, but even he said that he had never seen me that subdued and unwell. It took any doubt from him on whether or not this was asthma (it is now 100% confirmed as brittle asthma which I suppose is one good thing to come of this whole thing) and that I was lucky. Lucky that the nurse in triage had rushed it through to a doctor right away and that the doctor was quick enough to act. I had mentioned to him about the paramedic and he looked appalled and said that he would have a word with her. I was left with the words "lucky to be alive" ringing through my head and I had had a restless night because all I could think about was "What if..." and it scared me to think about it, and even now I am still trying to come to terms with it all again.

Knowing that has been one of the hardest things to get my head around. I admit I have had a cry about it all, but then I sat there and thought that perhaps this is the kick up the backside I have needed to really remind me that life is precious and the time we have should spend it making memories and a difference to the people we love and if anything, the fact that this could have so easily ended up as one of those creepy memorials in the paper and a funeral has shown me that I really have some amazing friends and a boyfriend who I love and who loves me, as well as my nan, brother, aunt and everyone on that side of the family, and I should focus on spending as much time making memories and making the best of things, rather than leaving it til it is too late or spending too much time focusing on useless things such as hate or the past. The past is the past. It can stay there.

One thing that stayed next to my bed during my entire hospital stay (probably because they kept me connected to it because of how unwell I'd been) was the obs machine. This is a machine that is used to check a patient's pulse, oxygen saturation, and blood pressure. They check these often in the day, and for a while, I was on hourly obs and constant monitoring as I was in the high-care part of the ward (which means that there were 4 nurses in the bay and we weren't ever left on our own) and they still worried that I could drop again. The doctor was doing her best, bless her, to persuade me to have another night in but I couldn't stay in that room with that certain annoying patient constantly bitching about everything. I needed my own surroundings. I needed my own bed. And I needed to be with the ones I hold dear to me. They were my medicine and my home was the hospital ward I needed, and the place I really wanted to be the most. I may have had my Sephy to comfort me, but I wanted more than that. I wanted the familiar smell of lavender from the bed linen, The comfortable surroundings that have always set my mind at ease. The banter between Becky and I was the thing I missed the most, other than being able to tell Jace that I love him and that I wished they could be at my side at that point.

I suppose that one thing that I can definitely commend is that the food at the Alex has improved a lot since the last time I was an In-Patient. OK the combination of quiche and mashed potato (major carbs, no wonder I was so energetic) was a bit unusual, but I didn't mind too much. At least it tasted like real food for once rather than cardboard like it used to. The pudding of apple crumble was pleasant too and the portion size was perfect. I was able to embark on a brief afternoon nap afterwards for an hour or two with a full stomach and the comfort that pain relief tends to bring once it kicks in. I was comfortable in there, but I really just wanted to go home. I was starting to get very homesick. Missing my snuggly boys and Becky was probably the hardest thing about the whole thing. I just wanted to hug them, tell them I was sorry and that I would never take it for granted ever again. And I mean that.

Before I went home however, my cannula, or IV line, (which by this point had been used to give me not only life-saving drugs but ones to kick start me to fight my infection) was really sore. They're not particularly comfortable at the best of times, but considering how hard it had been to get the line in in the first place, my arm was painful as the first attempt had shut down as soon as it was cannulated. The second one was becoming very uncomfortable, I felt a sudden pain in my hand down from where the site was and it was bleeding, at first only a little, then a little blood became a considerable amount and it was starting to leak a little. So as soon as the doctor said "yes" to my leaving the hospital, I was quite happy to finally get shot of the thing. IV cannulas are awkward things, they get very sore very easily and if you are like me, and you have to have them very often then your veins don't tend to like it too much and they tend to collapse which leaves you with that horrible feeling you get when your arm goes to sleep and starts getting sensation once more, but it does save on getting jabbed multiple times with many needles, so I guess it is the best trade off really.

I was happy to get home. Thanks to my friend Martin who came to collect me, I walked back in to my flat to be hugged tightly by Becky who had missed me tremendously. I was just so happy to be home that I didn't get angry that Kadaj had pulled all of Gizmo's back fur out or sad that Virgil had passed away because of the stress from upstairs.

I know one thing now. I am NOT going to take foolish risks. Ever again.

Loves
Wendy xx

Photos from the Ward... and Beyond (part 1).

One of the ways that I keep myself sane while in hospitals is through photography. I find that if I am strugging to SAY what's on my mind, I find it a lot easier to just SHOW it instead. I believe that photographs take a glimpse in to the real life events that unfold around us. Some people photograph things like animals or landmarks from their adventures. Me? Well I photograph everything that seems to make sense in my silly life (I call it that because it can sometimes be easier to think of it in that way rather than referring to the lack of quality of life I am afforded these days) and show people what it is really like when you have to live with a sometimes painful and often frustrating health problem. Be warned, a lot of these photos are very candid and show a very dark side of my life, and you may find some of them really upsetting. Some of them I don't actually remember ever taking which is the weird thing.

I guess the first pictures came just as the doctors started me on nebs and oxygen. We knew I was bad, but one thing we never knew was just how bad things had gotten. I look at this picture now and I can see just how exhausted I was. Yet there I was, putting on this brave face and telling myself that I had to get through this. I looked at the end of the couch that I was lying on and all I could see was that tank. At this point was when the doctors were getting the trolley to take me away from where I should never have been in the first place. All I could hear at one point was the doctor asking the sister who I think in turn probably gave the paramedics a grilling about why 1. I wasn't brought straight through (there were trolleys in the corridor, but they would have rushed me right through to resus had they seen it right away. No one could work out why exactly that was not the case and the worrying thing is that had I waited a little longer (or later until a doctor came which was what the paramedic wanted) what would have happened?

All I was thinking that whole time was about the people who I love. That gave me the strength to keep going and get better. Their smiles when we were all together and the glorious days where we all just hung out eating pizza and talking about this that and the other. I wanted to get through this. I wanted to survive to have more of those golden days, more of those mornings of drinking satin smooth coffee with Becky and the evenings spent just laughing about everything.

The next pictures came during an arterial blood gas. It's a painful but really needed thing. The doctor had to find the pulse at the radial artery before using the needle to slip between the bones and get the blood sample. It took 2 attempts for them to get the right spot and the nerve was hit (I was probably making some strange whimpering sounds at the time). Little did I know, but this was the beginning of a rather exhausting chain of events. A chain of events that I am still doing all I can to get my head around it.

The next picture came I think (as the clock says 3:30) not too long after having my chest X-ray (They used the portable thing, even though the tech was reluctant to do it that way because he didn't want the hassle of moving the machine, luckily the ITU doctor stood his ground) and I was lying there, just observing it. I only wish I could have got a better and more clear picture of it, but I think by that point I just wanted to close my eyes and sleep for a while, yet through it all, what makes me proud of myself is that I managed to keep that brave little smile and positive attitude that people know and love about me. I guess I'm just that kind of person really, but I did just look so tired and fragile at that point. I think I probably did fall asleep for a while and got some rest. I lay there for a while and I think when I did fall asleep, I felt so calm after my pain relief was sorted I was breathing more comfortably. I started to believe that I was going to survive this. And I wasn't going to give up. Not for anything.

Not long after I was moved to the ward, I was having a neb and decided to ask if I could try using the nasal cannula instead of that bulky mask that was making me feel claustrophobic and uncomfortable. I did find it funny that I was wearing both the nasal cannula and the nebuliser mask at the same time. I think I may have tweeted this picture with some kind of silly caption like "it's all about the accessories, darling!" The nasal cannula stayed there all night and I took it off in the morning because I felt strong enough to go without. The black and white image was taken after I woke up from the nights sleep, so I look pretty refreshed and not as sickly.

I guess those are the first ones I am willing to share at the moment, I'm going to share the rest later on, but it may take a few days to try and gather my thoughts and lose that feeling of disorientation and confusion. But I am doing better today which is good. I'm still a bit disorientated but that is something we come to accept when we live our life with a long term health problem. The next lot of photos will be a bit more unusual and theres a lot of them on both my phone and iPod so this could take a while.

Loves
Wendy xx

Another Close One...

I think that sometimes, my asthma likes to toy with me. It's not anything really horrible, but I start becoming more and more aware of my symptoms and I become so exhausted that I wind up sleeping most of the day. It's what we know as "Pre-attack" where we know it is going to hit, but we can't always pinpoint WHEN this is going to happen. I hate this phase as it makes me feel very on edge and more than a little bit scared. It's during this phase that I just want to get it over with, have an attack and then get it sorted so that I can feel a bit better for it.

People around me do make it easier to deal with and on those really BAD days. When things are unimaginable, I do have people who I can rely on for support and friendship as well as vital lifelines so that when things do go wrong, that there is someone who is there. In the times when things have gone to the worst, that can be not only a comfort but it can actually make the difference between recovering well or not recovering at all and winding up back in hospital within days.

My asthma is tricky at the best of times, one minute I can be alright and content to do what I'm doing, the next I can be seriously struggling and require hospital treatment. It is a pain and it does sometimes prove frustrating, not only for me, but the people around me. I am thankful that Becky and Jace are patient and caring and that hospital doesn't provoke fear in me anymore. Fear of being shouted at or punished because of it. Last time I was in, Becky was keeping my spirits up by making me smile and laugh by dancing and just generally being Becky. She's a fantastic friend and soon will mark a whole year since she moved in with me, and a whole year since Jace and I started our beautiful relationship.

The next few months are set for more change, but it will be a good change. Hopefully, soon we can move to a 2 bedroom place, although we do cope well as we are when Jace is here but it will be good for us to have our own space. Don't get me wrong, we love our little nook, but it would be nice to have a bigger place somewhere, perhaps a bit more private and in a different area. It would be nice for the animals as well (we will always want a garden for the guinea pigs).

It finally gave in on Monday afternoon. I was really fighting for breath and I couldn't even think. I called the ambulance and when the paramedic came (admittedly she seemed to think I was alright despite the fact that I was breathing so fast just to keep my sats up at 97%, when I slowed it down, I was down to 89% and she still refused to do anything... but such is life really) and I was taken to A+E triage. I didn't stay there long and I think the doctor initially took me to minors before getting someone senior to come and take a look. I was rushed right in to resus on a trolley without delay and an ABG was taken... at this point, I was on a o2 driven nebuliser and my sats were only 92%. Once the blood was tested, it quickly became very apparent that I was seriously unwell and my Po2 was just 7.7 (normal range is about 12-14), about just half of what I needed. My PCo2 was way down at 2.97 and I was really exhausted and fighting just to keep breathing, an ITU doctor came to see me and they were seriously considering intubation if things didn't improve. It really didn't look good.

Lucky for me, after rapid treatment with IV Mag, IV Hydrocort and a hefty IV dose of Co-Amoxiclav and Clarithromycin and high flow oxygen, I started to pick up and start recovering a bit. I think I must have slept for a while after Becky had to go home because I don't remember anything between her going and her coming back and the consultant came to see me, it was a consultant I had been under before so he knew what I was normally like, unlike what he described as lethargic and a complete polar opposite to the Wendy he knew. I couldn't even move so he could examine me, but I had been lying on my side. He was really nice actually and he just looked at me and said "You are really struggling aren't you... the good news is we can definitely confirm your asthma at least, but I think we'll get you to the ward and let you recover there..." I then dozed off only to wake up on the new Respiratory Ward, in one of the High Care beds.

All I'd wanted to do was sleep. By the time I managed to settle myself down and get to sleep, it must have been about 1 in the morning, after some more IVs and being allowed to swap from a non-rebreathe mask to nasal cannula, I think by the time I fell asleep, it was like I didn't want to wake up the next day. I managed to talk my way to getting allowed out (against the advice of the doctor, but my sanity was grating as one of the people in the bay was SO demanding all the time, I will spare the details, but people like that get on my nerves with the whole "look at MEEE!! -I- NEED it..." and the nurses were doing all they could to look after another patient who needed suction to clear her airways frequently) and by the time I got home, I was so happy to just sink in to a nice warm bath, get in to some clean pajamas and snuggle down in to my own bed, Sephy clutched tightly (even while I was there, after Becky brought him to me, I didn't want to let go of him) and I think I fell asleep pretty much straight away.

I suppose the moral of the story is that I need to stop trying to leave it too late before getting help, its a combination of pride and pure stupidity really because I didn't want to cause a big fuss or be in everyone's way, I guess that kind of worked the other way round. If I ever see the team of doctors who looked after me, I will have to give them a hug and thank them, had it not been for their speed and excellent care, I may not have been alive now to tell the tale.

Loves
Wendy xx

Stuff...

Its been a pretty good week as far as morale has been concerned (admittedly my asthma has been a bit of an issue again but it does that when it feels like it) and I am really very happy with things. We finally did the finishing touches to my laptop's new look (its all purple and sparkly with a Sephiroth decal, very stylish and VERY Wendy) and I spent time with Becky and Jace, which in itself has been the best medicine for me. I love it when Jace comes over because we get to spend time together as a couple and as a group with Becky as well, we don't always do much but we do all enjoy each other's company, and the company of our very loving animals.

The rats have settled in very well now and are content to run around the cage and on top of each other. Dante knows his Mummy is Becky and Virgil is always a little angel for me, sitting in my lap while I stroke him or talk to him. Rats are fascinating creatures to watch, so agile and full of life. It's amusing to sit and watch them play together and they're interesting pets to interact with. By nature, they can be very timid animals and they don't like loud noises. We have to clean them out every 3 days or so because their "leavings" can be catastrophic to someone like myself, but we have our ways around that so all is good.

This morning, we sat in Caffe Nero, as we do most Saturday mornings, and just talked. We talked about story concepts and the general happenings around the flat. We try and keep the negative side of things out of our coffee time as it is a time of pleasure NOT a time for pain or the not so nice side of things. Besides, if we can just spend some time having fun, then at least we're happy knowing that we managed to spend quality time together just doing what we like to. That is what's important to us.

Knowing that I won't be losing any of my benefits has made me feel a lot more secure about things and I know that both mine and Becky's immediate financial futures look secure and safe and it is set to stay that way for years to come. We may not live in luxury, but if you ask me, I think we do very well and we've never had to go without. It's a comfortable life that we lead and for me, it has been a vast improvement to my quality of life as I have been able to get my head around things a little easier. I smile more. I laugh. With the right help, I have been able to go out and do things again and not feel like some kind of invalid shut in. I'm getting even better at getting about with my scooter (getting on and off buses has become something of a party trick) and I really enjoy going for a wander around town these days.

My writing has improved as well, I actually had some drive to start doing so again recently and ever since, I have been carrying a few notebooks and pens, just in case a muse hits me or I have a small idea of something that cannot wait to be written down. As soon as those muses hit, I have to get them in a pure form, lest they become lost in the rest of my thoughts and ideas. Keeping my own diary has helped me as well, it has helped me to track my moods and what has been bothering me, and a good place to work out solutions to problems that I have been mulling over. As a result I have been sleeping better and I wake more prepared for the day ahead. I'd be lying if I said things were perfect, but to be quite honest, I am a lot happier with how my life is now.

Loves
Wendy xx

Disabled. And Proud...

I recently got talking to another young person on Twitter who has an illness and I was appalled to hear of how badly people treated him and how it had really damaged this person's self esteem. I know humanity has the potential to be either incredibly kind and understanding while at the same time, cruel and spiteful, but it doesn't make me any less angry about how society looks down their nose at people (in particular the elderly towards younger people) who have medical problems and are cruel enough to make comment or gawp at them (or in some cases, laugh and make fun of them) for no other reason than that they are different.

We aren't freaks. We aren't weak. We aren't 2nd class citizens and we didn't ASK to be this way and no one has any right to make us feel this way or to point out our flaws as if we never noticed them ourselves.

People with all kinds of disabilities face daily discrimination, intimidation and other cruelties at the hands of other people and I, for one, think that should stop and people shouldn't jump to make judgements or look down their noses at us. My own experiences of this have included being shoved out of the way (and one person, to the amusement of the security staff at the Kingfisher Centre last Christmas, decided that it was appropriate to knock me off my mobility scooter, subsequently causing damage to my ribs and back which made things even harder), laughed at by chavs and refused simple things like bus travel or the right to carry on my life as I choose because I use a mobility scooter or a nebuliser.

Another thing that recently got my goat was the way that the DWP were looking to withdraw vital support to disabled people, attacking our benefits and trying to shove as many disabled people in to work, even if they have proven time and again that that would not be viable, yet they were leaving the people who have been claiming unemployment benefits for years and years because they can't be bothered to go and look for work and would much rather sit around all day and do nothing, coasting along in life and expecting the UK tax payer to foot the bill. One thing I did agree with was that they were thinking of taking these lazy sods who have been claiming benefits for over 5 years and not bothering to look for work and making them work forced work placements, such as cleaning parks or facilities to give back to the communities that they have taken away from, but that is just the opinion of one person.

I want young people with disabilities to stand up and say "You know what, yes I'm disabled. Yes I have flaws but you know what? It is those flaws that make me a strong and I am not ashamed of the person I am and how I choose to live my life without limits and without seeking the approval of others." I want people to remember that they are strong and that they can stand up with no shame and know that they're doing everything they can to make it through. Incurable doesn't mean hopeless and who knows, maybe one day, all illnesses and disabilities may be treatable and we can all stand up and be proud of who we are.

Loves
Wendy xx

Up and Up...

Winter can sometimes be the hardest time of year for those who live with a chest illness. What with the cold and damp, ice, snow and onset of all kinds of chest bug, flu or other problems. It is no surprise that this winter I have had my share of problems and the complications that can cause (just getting over pneumonia at the end of last year and then having another smaller lung infection that meant that I was on antibiotics for 2 weeks. My asthma is still all over the place and I have recently had to review everything with my lovely GP (who is almost like a father figure and a friend).

We started by looking at peak flows, my current medication and we looked at what we could do to essentially fire-fight the symptoms and try and get everything on to an even keel. We have introduced Tramadol in to my normal medication (its been proven that it helps me and makes the pain easier to live with) which was something that we were previously a little wary of, but now it is on my normal meds and now I am coping with the pain a lot easier. We are also looking at my maintenence dose of Prednisolone, its currently 15mg, but I have been given instructions to knock it to 20mg when my peak flow and symptoms are troubling, we then aim for a week of no symptoms before reducing it back down to 15mg... And I am to continue with inhalers and nebs as normal.

So far, I seem alright and I am feeling like I can cope. I have been playing with the animals (including new additions Kibou the guinea pig and the rats, Dante (who is Becky's) and Virgil (who is mine) as well as Nero, 'Daj, Gizzy and Tenzou). It took some time to tame Virgil as he is a nervous rat and he is easily spooked, but now I can get him out of his cage and he will happily lie on my lap while he gets stroked. They are funny little creatures, rats. Amusing to watch as they run around happily and then decide that they want some human interaction. They're not as laid back as guinea pigs or hamsters, but they are very intelligent and they do respond well to kind words, gentle handling and treats. He's slowly coming out of his shell and he does love to be cuddled by his mummies.

I got my hands on the "Sephiroth" Eau de Toilette. I am alright with some perfumes, so long as they aren't too strong (me and Eau de Parfum do NOT mix well, as an Eau de Toilette is a lot less strong I tend to cope alright, as long as it's ONE spray every so often) and I have to say, it is a lovely scent (the perfume is a bit more fruity than the candle, but you do get the exact same scent, its like Twilight mixed with something else, not sure what yet though), a bit mysterious and deep, notes of fresh blooms, amber, vanilla and musk. Definitely has the makings of a signature scent and I really loved how it was presented.

My first impression was the elegance of the presentation box. Black, with silver embossed writing saying "Sephiroth - Eau de Toilette". It was such a simple thing yet so bold and it makes such a statement, much like the character himself really. It does come with a plastic slip-case around it to protect the box and has the Japanese label on it (this product is hard to find for a reasonable price outside of the UK so I was quite lucky in this one, it is is a special thing really, and not something that I would be wearing every single day (as much as I would love that, and believe me, I would love to smell like my hero every single day).

On opening the box, I found the bottle well packaged and in a protective foam to keep it stable and secure. The bottle itself is absolutely beautiful. Made from black crystal glass and it has the one wing symbol etched on in silver, along with the name of the scent. It has a small black silver wing charm hanging from the neck of the bottle, it's so elegant and so stylish that it does seem a shame to have it hidden in the box all day every day, so I have to have it displayed out of the box and on my dressing table. One touch I really liked was that the charm was wrapped in tissue paper to avoid it scratching itself or the bottle.

It's a wonderful addition to my collection and when I smell it, I can almost feel a black wing wrapping around my body. It really is something to behold and there really isn't words to describe the scent. Other than dark, mysterious and elegant, it's a unisex fragrance that is as masculine as it is feminine and elegant. It does really suit the character that it was based on (I was skeptical when I ordered it a while back as it was a perfume based on a fictional character, but I was really impressed with it). I think this is the sort of memorabilia that Square Enix should make more of, maybe creating fragrances for characters such as Vincent Valentine (from FF7) or Seifer Almasy (from FF8) or even Gabranth (from FF12). There are two other perfumes available, one is based on Cloud Strife (FF7) and Lightning (FF13) but I think I will just be happy with my Sephiroth fragrance.

As for the small, silver wing charm? Well I thought it was a shame to leave it in the box or on the bottle, Becky gave me a really good idea to take it off the string that it was hanging on and hang it on a silver chain and wear it as a necklace so I can wear it and always have that reminder of a character who has made me feel strong despite my troubles ever since I was about 10 or 11 years old. It was a one off thing and to find it at a reasonable price instead of the usual price tag of over £100 (I love ebay because you can get some real bargins) without having to pay import costs or things like that.

I am hoping that this is the beginning of a rapid improvement and a good omen for things to come. I am glad that I have landed on my feet and I have wonderful people around me who make it all feel worthwhile. I've started the new year well and managed to break a bad habit of self-harming. It's been 9 weeks since the last time and I really REALLY want to keep this up because I feel better for not cutting myself and I finally feel like I am getting somewhere.

Loves
Wendy xx

Kicking The Past...

One thing that I have come by is a scented candle. This particular candle is very special. It's a black candle in a glass holder, etched with a tribal wing decal and quotes from the film "Final Fantasy 7: Advent Children", in a rather delicate and tasteful design, and is fragranced with the aroma of the "Sephiroth" Eau de Toilette. I added it to my collection recently and I sat there for a few moments just smelling the delicate fruit notes with earthy undertones, soothing lavender and vanillary kind of smell (not at all unlike the Twilight bath ballistics and the limited edition shower gel that I stocked up on at the end of last year, (yeah, that surprised me as well...) I think I have enough to last out the year) and it almost made me feel a feathered wing furl around me. It was weird how it actually smelled quite like how I thought he would. Kind of earthy and sensual as well as calming and refreshing. I am also getting hold of the perfume (not really so that i can splash it on as that would be a HUGE no no for me, but so that I can wear it occasionally, like my Amaretto perfume) complete with an elegant wing charm which I will probably put on my phone along with a keychain I made with a "Trading Arts Mini". 

I don't burn things like candles. I find that if you burn them often, along with incense and other things, it can become very claustrophobic and clammy in the room. I personally find that if you have 1 scented candle in a room, its subtle and it makes the room feel fresh and clean. Along with, of course, fresh sheets and making sure everything in the room is dust free. Of course, you do have to be careful when trying to maintain cleanliness, its too easy to get things wrong and even easier to wind up forgetting some critical signs that something isn't quite right. I know this, I have done it enough times. It is nice though when you have spent time working on something to just sit there and just think. I think about my projects. I think about the people who have helped me keep my dreams alive. The people who have constantly pushed me to keep going, even on those days when everything seems futile. And the people who have been there when everything went horribly wrong and helped to pick the pieces back up, even when things didn't seem like they could get better. I am thankful for those people and I do honestly feel blessed to have them in my life.

This year has been one about change and so far those changes have been brilliant. I've stopped doing something that was really destructive and it has taken a lot to do. Its been 8 weeks since I last picked up something sharp (either a piece of broken glass or a sharpener blade) and dragged it across the skin on either my arms or my leg. I've done it on and off since I was about 12 but I never ever managed to work out how to stop completely. As a teen, I used to hide it under long, baggy clothes. Or do it in places that no one would ever think to look. The worst one was when I dragged a freezer saw over my arm and needed 5 stitches to close the wound. Its taken me a long time to get over the flashbacks of that day and every time I looked at my scars, I would almost see the whole scene play out over and over again. By finally talking it through, I managed to finally put that to rest and as a result, I realised something. I don't actually NEED to drag sharp things through my skin because of the actions of others. I think that this is a big part of putting my past behind me, where it belongs and its something that over time, I am going to be stronger and happier as a result. I feel that there really is no merit in dragging the past up or point scoring, eventually people stop being interested anyway and then they avoid the one who can't let go. What is important now is that I have improved my life (of course with help from Becky, Nat and Jace) and I am now a lot happier for it. I am going to let this continue and I am going to continue going from strength to strength.

Loves
Wendy xx