Melissa Watson
Stories (3/0)
The struggling mind of the mentally ill
I hate myself. I hate how I look. I hate that my belly isn’t flat. My bum isn’t big. My breasts aren’t perky. I hate the scars my body carries. The ones from picking at scabs too much. The ones from accidents. The ones from self harm. I hate the memories they hold of times when I couldn’t take it anymore. I hate their ability to send me spiralling into dispose when I look at them for too long. I hate that one evening of being alone can make me feel so hopeless and crave having a knife in hand to take my frustrations out on my body. I hate that I have to constantly ask loved ones for validation and reassurance that I actually matter to them. I hate that my insecurities have pushed people away. I hate that I freak out when I feel clueless. I hate that I need to know loved ones plans all the time. I hate that I need to be in control. I hate that I never have motivation. I hate that I live in a dump and never manage to clean it. I hate that I rely on everyone else all the time. I hate that I have no independence. I hate that I want to end it all. I hate that I can’t bring myself to.
By Melissa Watson 2 years ago in Poets
My year of Candle making
During the initial lockdown a lot of people got bored. That’s a gross understatement to say the least. People sat around mourning the days where we could go out and see our friends, go clubbing, go to a pub quiz or to the gym or on holidays. It was hell. A lot of people got into new hobbies. At the start a few of my friends and I started knitting, until I gave up after realising I gave myself a very long knitting project which has now been abandoned for almost a year. Now with no hobby to keep me entertained as my boyfriend and our flatmate played video games together without me I had to search for something new. Something a little less time consuming where I could see a finished product sooner. I started making candles.
By Melissa Watson 3 years ago in Journal
Fleeing the nest during Covid
When the UK lockdown hit back in March 2020 I panicked. A lot. I love my family to pieces but being around them so much was a huge trigger for my anxiety so when I found out that I would be under house arrest with them for good I didn’t react too well. I moved out. At the time I had been with my boyfriend for two months and was staying over almost every night, we were best friends and when the news of us being apart and him losing his job and part of his income that would have been his rent came up we decided that I would just move in.
By Melissa Watson 3 years ago in Humans