Personal Journey

I Have A New Blog

NaamloosI moved. Instead of, you can now reach me at I have a self-hosted blog there now, and I will continue posting at Mentalky just the way I did here.

If you want more of me and my posts, go to I look forward to seeing you there!

Personal Journey

Me Rambling About Mental Health And Medication

I feel out of control while taking medication. Last month, I got new sleeping medications. First I started with two medications at the same time, promethazinum (which I already took) and mirtazipine. Suddenly, I could fall asleep before 11pm. It felt nice, but it also felt very strange.

I like having control. Most bad habits I have are caused because I want to have control. Something that uncontrollable such as sleep, suddenly being controlled… Even if I wanted to stay up a little later, I couldn’t. So last Saturday I didn’t take my sleeping medication. And guess what? I stayed up all night, couldn’t sleep, stayed up the entire next day, and fell asleep around 1am the next night.

Will I ever be able to sleep without sleeping meds? I didn’t say this out loud, but it was like my psychiatrist could read my mind. Since yesterday, the only sleeping meds I am taking are melatonin. I slept alright last night, fell asleep around 2am.

During sleepless nights, my suicidal thoughts increase a ton. Here at the hospital I have to hand in my electronics at 9:30 and that makes most passive activities impossible.

Blogging really relieves me. I never know how to handle my emotions, so when I fee awful I show that by being happy yet slightly irritated. So, when I am able to write about it it is a huge relief because I can just yell anything into the void and not expect anything back. When I tell my psychiatrist my suicidal tendencies have increased, my privileges might be withdrawn. When I explain such things to the void, I get the kind of support I need. It’s nice to yell and not feeling guilty about it.

Personal Journey

Rearranging My Emotions and Being Homesick

The first three months of 2017 have already been hard on me. Being away from home is harder than ever and my mood goes from rollercoaster high to somewhere deep down in the pits of depression. Yes, being around other “troubled” peeps makes me feel less alone and yes, being around other “troubled” peeps makes me feel this strange feeling of rejection. Not them rejecting me, or me rejecting them. Just for a few moments, rejecting this thing called recovery.

I started this blog in the hopes of helping others with similar issues – and that is still the intention – but I’m finding that I’m not quite ready to help others when I need the help myself. It’s weird trying to get well. My feelings are all over the place; hell, at most times I don’t even know what I’m feeling. Or how I’m supposed to feel. I still cannot sleep at all without my medication. With at all I do mean at all, I tried and I couldn’t sleep all night, nor could I sleep the next day, nor could I sleep up until I took my meds.

That feels frustrating. But I’ve been struggling with insomnia for such a long time I’m quite happy that this medication does anything at all. Will I need to stay on sleeping meds for the rest of my life?

I can still look forward to things. I gifted myself a new typewriter, I bought tickets to Radiohead next year, I am earning money with calligraphy again, etcetera. But there are also far more things I really hate to think about. That’s life for everyone, maybe it’s good feeling “normal” in that aspect.

Promises suck and break almost instantly — do I give a shit? Yeah, I totally do. But let’s pretend I don’t give a damn. I hope to keep following promise of posting more actually helpful resources soon.


Personal Journey

I Officially Relapsed Again

I’m back at the mental hospital. I’m back at the mental hospital. I had a four-hour long session with my therapist. At some point five people were involved. At some point my parents came to deliver my stuff. At some point they didn’t have a spot for me in a ward associated with mood disorders. At some point I got put into a ward with boys with anger issues. Their world seems to revolve around gaming.

Today marks exactly a year since I was admitted to this exact mental hospital. I’m back where I was when I was at my lowest point a year ago. Nothing seems to have changed, and I wonder if it ever will. I feel so out of place, so unwanted here. The first question I got was what games I played. Where did I end up?

They told me I had to stay a week in the hospital here. I hope that tomorrow, or before the weekend, a spot opens up at the ward I “belong” at. I secretly hope I get to spend longer than a week here, a week is just long enough to assure I won’t kill myself in this exact week. But by now, I don’t feel too sure about that either.

I have stayed at this hospital a few times already, and we get a ton of freedom in general. I’m not sure how I’m going to spend this week. I’ll keep you updated.

Personal Journey

I’m Not Doing Too Well

For the past few weeks, I’ve been feeling chased by another relapse. My sleeping issues and mood swings are playing the main characters in a movie that is my life. With seven therapies and five school days a week, it’s not supposed to come as a surprise that I’m ditching some. But it does, not only to my parents, but to me.

In so many ways I’m falling back into old patterns and old habits. The awful thing about relapses, is that they always come (1:) unexpected and (2:) they’re worse than the last one. Every smell I smell in every corner of my house reminds me of yet another traumatizing experience.

The braille on over-the-counter medication, old files and tests from the hospital, the locked door with nailed wood from an accident at my previous ward. People pacing, beeps, someone screaming, the exclusively iron smell of blood. Messages from old friends from the mental hospital who tried to kill themselves. Again.

I hate having depression. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. I would not wish it upon my worst enemy. Maybe because I’m starting to think my ‘worst enemy’ is developing a depression, too. I hate being so vulnerable to a slight relapse. I hate reaching for pills whenever someone yells at me, whenever I yell at myself.

I hate to think that I threw away these years of my life which I should’ve spent focusing on my education. But what I hate most about feeling awful, is that I know it’s gonna chase me for the rest of my life. I will always be weak towards signs of depression, and I will always start panicking when I think back about what I did. When I remember tiny pieces again, that I seemed to have locked away somewhere.

I often find myself wishing I could do it all over again, but I don’t think I would’ve done anything differently. Now, I have a chance to be better, feel better, and start over again. But I’m not taking it, so why would I have taken it years ago? It’s so much easier to give in than to fight.

Frustration. I’m frustrated because my parents only support me when I’m feeling good. Loneliness. I feel lonely because no one (at least, no one who doesn’t get paid) tries to acknowledge my problems and help me with them. Scared. I’m scared. I’m scared because I don’t have the 24/7 emergency service I had in the hospital. I can’t reach out.

Weekends are the worst for me. My therapist is off-duty, there is only a psychiatrist I can contact when it’s a severe emergency. I’m always home in the weekends, I can easily make an attempt again, no one is watching me, I have no therapies to distract me. I need to distract myself 48 hours long. I can’t sleep.

It takes so much to not reach for the box of painkillers in my sock drawer. The two things that are holding me back is that I know I’ll start throwing up as soon as I touch even one pill again, and that I might get help if I tell my therapist coming Tuesday. I normally have cognitive behaviour therapy and talking about stuff therapy on a Monday, but now it’s moved.

It almost feels like every little thing is telling me to stop resisting the urge and to give in. I lied in therapy last week, and now I wish I hadn’t so I would’ve gotten the support back then. You’d expect that by now, my parens picked up at least some of the signs. But they haven’t, and my dad is getting angrier and angrier instead of being supportive. They’re taking everything from me because they do not understand I’m feeling awful. In their eyes I’m just being incredibly self-centered and cross.

Even N, who is in charge of my home-based guidance, didn’t pick up any signs that might lead to what I’m feeling. How I’m feeling. I’m not doing too well.

"How To"'s

How To Stop Self-Harming (With 100+ Self-Harm Alternatives!)

No, this article is not going to be some magic cure to your self-harm issues. There is no simple solution that will stop your need to hurt yourself, no secure way that promises no relapses. But yes, this blogpost will cover helpful tips and tricks to help you on your journey towards being self-harm free.

Many people focus on how many days they’re “clean” from self-harm. I try not to. I think that recovering from self-harm has to focus on how you handle your need to do so. Hurting yourself is a coping mechanism, how you handle certain situations. So to stop hurting yourself, is to find a healthier way to cope.

And this healthier way will not work 100% of the time. Some days you will relapse again, but the trick is to not let that one time lead to a full-on relapse. First, you need to find out at what times you self-harm, and why. Try recording every time you self-harm for a week, two weeks. Write down what happened before you self-harmed.

If nothing happened before you did, think back. Maybe some issues have piled up and you couldn’t take it anymore. Maybe it was not a situation, but simply your thought process or putting yourself down. Whatever the reason, write it down as well as you can.

Then, you will hopefully be able to see a pattern. You’ll see when you are most likely to self-harm, and thus find out when to keep an eye open and know you’re on the verge of hurting yourself in a later situation. Whenever you recognize another situation, be one step ahead of yourself.

Don’t let it get out of control, and use positive distractions. What makes you normally feel good? What are your interests? I personally have made many lists and charts of positive distractions that work for me, and I recommend doing this. Examples are taking a hot bath, reading, going out for a run, calling with someone, chatting online, watching a show, etcetera.

It’s hard to break free from your old patterns, so switching your self-harm behavior to positivity, may be difficult at times. Try to keep your mind occupied when you feel a bad mood coming up. Maybe start a journal, gratitude journal, online journal, anything. It might help – but this isn’t the solution for everyone.

Next you will find a huge list of practical things you can do when you feel like you are going to hurt yourself, with links and ideas. Either write some of these down, or keep this post bookmarked. I have an A4 sheet with drawings that represent positive distractions up on my wall, you might wanna give that a try too.


Drawing where you would normally self-harm
Using ice cubes on the place where you would self-harm
Flicking a rubber band on your wrist
Drawing lines with a marker instead of creating permanent scars


Calling with a friend
Chatting online
Talking to someone close
Going To An Art Gallery
Venting to a listener
Venting to a community
Blah Therapy
Just Vent
Rating Your Day
Chatting with Helpline
Visiting a friend
Going for brunch
Reading Blog Articles
Talking To A Random Cat
Going To Church
Asking An Employee Information About Some Product

Anxiety Relief Gifs
Calming Music
Guided Meditation
Meditating before Sleeping
Blowing Bubbles
Listening to Music
Writing Down Reminders for Tomorrow
Drinking Tea
Doing Nothing For Two Minutes

Learning A New Language
Learning Another New Language
Watching A Ted Talk
Slam Poetry
Learning Basically Anything
Learning To Code
Listening To Podcasts
Having A Nonsense Discussion
Browsing Wikipedia
Reading Other People's Life Stories

Taking A Walk
Going Grocery Shopping
Going To The Gym
Going To The Park
Visiting Your Childhood Neighborhood
Going To A Thrift Store
Going To Ikea And Not Buying Anything
Going To A Clothes Store And Fitting As Much As You Can
Doing A Workout
Going Swimming
Doing Yoga
Going Ice Skating
Going Bowling


Binding A Book
Making Your Own Paint
Making A Collage
Playing An Instrument
Learning A New Instrument
Spray-painting something
Making Your Own Comic Book
Starting A Bullet Journal
Writing In A Journal
Following Recipes (Cooking And Baking)

"Relive Your Life"
Reading Confessions
Sending And Recieving A Postcard From Around The World
Having A Star Wars Movie Marathon
Cleaning Up Your E-mail Account
Downloading A Free Art Program And Having A Good Time
Learning A New Skill By Buying A Course
Browsing Etsy
Finally Finishing Your Essay
Researching An Era
Researching A Writer
Researching Anything And Everything
Cleaning Up Your Laptop
Playing Quizzes
Looking For Leatherbound Books
Reading Reviews On A Dull Topic
Expanding Your Netflix List
Playing A Children's Game
Responding To Scam E-mails
Writing A Bullshit Complaint To A Random Company


Cleaning Up Your Room
Cleaning The House
Planning A Yardsale
Preparing A Delicious Meal
Throwing Out Old Stuff
Giving Clothes Away
Donating Books
Cancelling Subscriptions
Cleaning Out Your Bag
Doing Homework
Preparing For A Meeting
Making Up Food Combinations
Baking A Pie
Personal Journey, Uncategorized

Why Being Suicidal Was a Relief for Me at Times

When I look back at what my rock bottom was, I am torn between two periods in my life: any of my suicide attempts, or the months right before I was forced into staying at a mental hospital. In those months I did actively think about killing myself, but I never considered myself suicidal at that time. Yet, when I think about it, that time was so much worse than my time spent being suicidal. Allow me to explain:

I wrote this post about a week ago, and wasn’t sure if I wanted to post it or not. I decided to post it today, just to share how I am feeling and someone might feel better and less alone after reading this.

To set the scenery of and about what was going on before I stayed at the mental hospital; I didn’t go to school anymore, I slept all day and spent the entire night either self harming, watching shows, crying intensely yet silently, and staring at blank pages. I probably ate around 400 calories a day – and I might have overestimated that count. This wasn’t because I had an eating disorder, but I had no appetite nor cravings for anything. I could often not climb the stairs to get to therapy anymore, was having nightmares every time I slept. I was and still am traumatized by elevators, mainly due to these dreams – my situation was simply awful.

I was forced to take sleeping meds and antidepressants, which caused me to feel extremely suicidal. This is a common side-effect of the particular medication I was taking. Which, ironically, I still take every morning. These thoughts increased while I was in the mental hospital, but I don’t look at this time being nearly as awful as, say, four months before that.

I had a safety net, if I may put it that way. If I ever thought I couldn’t handle anything anymore, I could easily kill myself. Despite being in a closed ward, I was also often being watched every minute of the day, I could still commit suicide if I wanted to. This felt like such a relief. I had a plan B for when nothing would work out.

It also made me feel like I had nothing to lose. I was always scared of animals attacking my parents in the middle of the night, and then slowly killing me, piece by piece. Call me crazy, but I did absolutely not call that the worst-case scenario anymore. I would be dead, no one would pity me, it was a win-win situation. I even managed to get in an elevator once or twice.

My other rock-bottom however, felt so much more awful. I didn’t have any way out. I didn’t have the energy to try to recover, I had short-term memory loss and often had the exact same reaction five times in a row when someone told me something because I just kept forgetting. What could I do when I felt so bad? I didn’t have the courage to kill myself. I had no plan B and started thinking about the most horrible things I could do to myself and having the most amount of pain – but not dying.

So yes, being suicidal was such a relief at times. Do remember that this post does not promote suicide, I just wanted to share how I think about what feeling at your lowest is like, without a safety net.