2018? Completed it mate.

First and foremost – big dog points to whoever gets the reference in the title of this post. You a real MVP.

Hi. Yeah. It’s me.

I realise I haven’t been very active on this blog the second half of the year and I can only apologise. I guess I’ve had a lot on my plate and it’s just not been a priority, really. That and I feel like the site needs a revamp desperately. Get some fresh new graphics and that. Reorganise some pages. Like when a girl has a breakup and dyes her hair and loses weight and gets her makeup done and looks all stunning. Except no breakup.

So I felt like writing a lil something about the past year as I guess this blog is a whole ass year old now and a LOT has changed. This time last year I had a huuuuuge mental breakdown. I was self-harming, I was toxic to be around, I was suspended from my job, I had a huge surgery and an untreated mental illness. I was basically a hot mess. Trash. Like Oscar the Grinch but Bristolian and less green. I started this blog as writing had been an outlet privately for my PTSD for some time and I guess I just wanted the world to know that 1. I’m struggling and 2. It’s okay to struggle. Looking back, I could have chosen a better name than Indy Darling but I guess as person it sums me up pretty well without screaming total weirdo.

So yeah all that shit happened in November/December and in January, a new year started and so did my recovery. January was okay I guess. I got to celebrate my birthday absolutely wasted at the wrestling with my favourite wrestler at the time as a surprise booking and that was pretty awesome. Apart from that, I guess I was still recovering from surgery and still out of work and trialling some new antidepressants, which made me cry so much less and made me a lot more emotionally stable. I got a tattoo of Lisa Simpson too. Was kinda impulsive but she’s always represented my kind of personality. Feminist. Loves animals etc. You’ll pick up more on my impulsivity as I go on. It’ll make sense at some point I swear.

Is me. Am drunk. Is birthday. Yeet. Soz Zack.

February comes around and I take the plunge and get signed off sick for work. It was scary but I knew I wasn’t ready to go back. I started to see a support worker. He was okay. My cats seemed to really love him and it was really embarrassing to see them rub themselves all over him whilst I’m talking about the want to end my life but hey ho. I got out a lil bit more and saw my friends but I ended up spending most of my time alone in my bedroom. So along comes a spontaneous idea: what if I had something with me in my bedroom so that I wasn’t alone?. And thus the imminent arrival of Trixie the hamster.

Trix when I first got her. So teeeeny!

Trixie has been absolutely pivotal in my recovery. She has reignited my love and passion for animals and encouraged me to leave my bed on those really bad days. To take care of her, I had to take care of myself. She’s a noisy, naughty little shitbag sometimes but I love her more than anything. My bank account, however, probably does not.

March. Again I’m just trying to truck on. I was finally cleared to exercise by my doctor and so I joined a local gym. I won’t lie: I looked HAWT for a while. A true skinny legend. Due to a mix of depression and returning to work, I haven’t been able to go for a while, but it’s my new year’s resolution to go back. My legs were fucking hench. Anyways. I got to go to a Cupcakke concert and meet her too. She’s super cool and so free and open and inspires me to keep on being the nutter I am. Shoutout to Cupcakke.

Me and Marilyn MonHOE. Her mom was there and gave out actual cupcakes. They were so peng.

End of March I did the DTTI 3 day bender with a bunch of pals. It meant the world to me. I was the best I had been in a while and was just surrounded by so much love. And alcohol. I believe there’s a video of me crawling along the floor on my back like that scene out of the Exorcist. Everything’s coming up, Dizzle.

The following few months I’m in and out of work more than Drake is in and out of the charts. A bunch more wrestling and getting to hang with people there was what I lived for. But I guess the medication only worked for so long before it drained the life out of me. I was finally discharged from the recovery team so I had to seek help from my GP. And that’s when I’m suddenly told. Borderline personality disorder. Everything made sense. The impulsivity. The depression. The reckless living and spending. The binge drinking. The mood swings. It came as a huge shock, considering I had been diagnosed in January and never told, but it was a chance for me to realise what steps were right for me when it came to rebuilding my life. Lots of trial and error, but I think I’m finally getting somewhere with it. I’ve since changed my medication and it’s hella better. My work, however, just weren’t having it. They just wouldn’t make reasonable adjustments to help me. I needed something to take my mind off it.

We move now to the end of September. Project Mayhem weekend in Wolverhampton. Fucking belter weekend. Got to scream at my favourite wrestler a bunch (sorry Timo) and hang out with the coolest people. The week after I took the plunge and flew to Germany for 5 days for the graps. This was massive for me as I’d never been abroad alone before and I’d not been on a plane for over a decade. I met more great people, tried the world famous kebab and realised I had a heart meant to travel and explore. I cannot wait to go back in 2019. Another goal is to travel to Dublin. I hear it’s all the rave. My bucket list life goal is to visit Egypt. I’ve been OBSESSED with it since I was a kid. Maybe one day.

They say gingers don’t have souls but I’m sure I left mine in this building. Jay Skillet, I love you.

I also travelled to Holland in November and spent a week there. God what a great country. The McDonalds are so posh. It was when I was there I realised I had reached the end of my tether with my job. I had stuck it out for a good year after problems started occurring there and I was just done. I handed in my notice. It was a massive weight off my shoulders knowing I didn’t have to go back there. I knew it was gonna be difficult being out of work – I still am, but it’s still so much less stress than working on my own in a tiny booth, surrounded by borderline crackheads and entitled twats.

And well here we are; December. Made a whole year without topping myself. I realised there really is that light at the end of the tunnel everyone talks about. I’m not out of that tunnel by a long stretch, but I’ve driven 100 miles down it and not crashed. Right now in my life I’m focusing on getting back into work. It’s disheartening being on Universal Credit (aka no fucking money to do anything) and not getting jobs I’ve gone for, but I so badly want to go back into veterinary work. I’m so passionate about animals and anyone who doesn’t see that needs to go to Specsavers. I even rescued and rehomed another hamster out of my own time and pocket (miss ya, Milo!).

Christmas will always be a tough time for me as I have mad social anxiety and hate being the centre of attention, especially in a dis functional family. I’m looking to the dinner though. Another thing that happened to me this year is I started to develop a lactose intolerance. Anyone that knows me knows I LOVEEEE cheese and it’s broken my heart not being able to eat it without running to the toilet. I suppose it might make me skinner in the long run though. I guess I just want people to know it’s okay not to be okay, especially at Christmas. Mental illness doesn’t stop for a Christian holiday. The clouds will start to part and you will learn how to dance through the storm.

One year apart. Personally, I’d say this is a hella glow up.

My goals for next year are as follows:

  • Maintain treatment and self care for my mental illnesses, even if I have to drag myself out the house with no eyebrows on. Now that’s a fucking sight and a half.
  • Go back to Germany again and get smashed and watch the wrestling. My favourite past time. Hell yeah.
  • Go to Ireland and watch the wrestling. Sounds like it could be fun. Guess it’s just dependent on having money. Brits out, tits out?
  • GET A FUCKING JOB. I have a bunch of interviews lined up so I’m hoping I get something. Yall better pray for me. Mama needs some mooooney.
  • Get that Lisa Simpson tattoo reworked. I got it infected and it’s been fucked since. Might continue on my arm sleeve if funds will allow me. Tattoo pain is my faaaaave.
  • Go back to the gym. Get them gains. Get my booty back. It’s honestly disappeared off the face of the earth. RIP.
  • Go vegan maybe? I’m gonna do Veganuary. I already don’t have dairy and the only meat I really have nowadays is chicken. Veggie burgers are my lifeeee. I guess it’s just finding foods I like with no egg or meat in or whatever. I’ll give it ago but I’ve already tried it and I’m not sure the veeg life is for me.
  • Post more on here and get some graphic work done for it when I have the money. I already paid for the domain so I guess I might as well make it pretty. I have so many have finished blogs I should post too.
  • Finally, my main goal is to get my own place. I’m content that it might not happen in 2019, but it’s a nice thought. Some freedom. A place where I can run around nude. Shower and shit whenever I want to. Eat whatever I want. It’s a proper massive thing for me and the sooner, the better. I realise a bunch of my friends are having babies and getting married, but I’m still young and I don’t want that for my life. Soz mum, Trixie is your grandchild for the foreseeable future.
  • If you’ve gotten this far, I applaud you. I want to thank everyone who has supported me in anyway this year, even if it was just a message or two. You have seen me at my dirt worst, when maybe I didn’t deserve to be helped, and still saw something good in me. I can only promise I’ll keep trying my best. To keep pushing through. To show you can live a great life, even with a personality disorder. It’s now 4am. I guess I’ll post this in the day once I’ve proof read it and had some nice fucking roast potatoes and gravy. Oof. Let’s all raise a theoretical glass (any beverage, your choice) to absolutely smashing the doors off 2019, and to Louis Theroux. No particular reason. I just think he’s fucking mint and he’s had some belting documentaries this year. Nothing will ever beat the one about rapping though. What’s your favourite Louis documentary? Lemme know in the comments or on socials!
  • As a wise man once said, “Do you want some Lucozade?”.

    Love,

    Em/Dizz x

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