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the problems with society and the media glorifying mental illness


It’s no secret that the media we consume and today’s society has the tendency to glorify and romanticise mental illness and the symptoms of people with serious illnesses, and has done for a long time. As a kid I remember one show that vividly portrayed mental illness, and the symptoms of depression, anxiety, eating disorders and even psychosis in a way that, not obviously glorified it, but made the show and the characters show their struggles in a way that was “quirky” and almost “cool”, and it’ll be no surprise to people of a similar age group to myself when I say this show was, Skins. In particular the characters of Cassie from season one and Effy from season three. (The less said about season 5 the better let’s be honest) 


In skins season one, Cassie, one of the main members of the group has very obvious struggles with an eating disorder, Anorexia. She is always seen as the “quirky” one, the quiet, away with the fairies character who because of this is quite loveable and almost ‘cute’, a famous phrase of her that was always layered over a grungy black and white image of hers was “I didn’t eat for three days so I could be lovely”, that circulated the tumblr era for years. It was my first experience of “pro-ana” media growing up, and as someone who also suffered with anorexia at a young age in her teens, she was almost an idol to me, a way of me seeing I could be loved and “lovely” if I also didn’t eat. The lack of recovery or serious professional intervention storyline with Cassie is a poignant reason this show was so toxic, it enforced the sadly truthful portrayal that not many people with an eating disorder fully recover or receive truly impacting treatment in their care. In season three, Tony’s younger sister Effy and her friendship group become the focus of the show and as the series goes on it becomes evident that Effy is struggling with manic depression and after attempting suicide and leaving psychiatric inpatient care is shown to be in a strict recovery regime. My biggest annoyances with the Effy storyline is she is seen to be more loveable when she is unwell, and is deemed interesting and desirable to men who wish to “fix her” in a cutesy romantic manner. 


Speaking of skins and the era of tumblr blogs, tumblr and social media’s in general have always been a toxic wasteland for glorifying mental health conditions and symptoms. With pro-ana accounts (accounts that show images of extremely skinny bodies or quotes that encourage starvation etc) and images of self harm rife back in the day it’s no surprise I was myself led into the life of self harming and disordered thoughts around eating in order to feel “beautiful” and “worthy”. 


Although it is a positive thing that mental illness is being portrayed more often in the media, and can be argued that it brings more awareness to debilitating conditions and reduces the stigma of opening up, there is also a downside. How many times have you opened up about your condition or illness and the symptoms you present with to be greeted with the painfully annoying response “oh I’m a bit like that!!”. Personally I’ve received this more times than I care to admit and have to stop myself from putting my head through a brick wall each time. Because of people realising how common mental illness is, some people seem to almost cling onto it and think well maybe that’s me? And of course, that can be a good thing too, it may help people realise their symptoms and the underlying cause of them, after all that’s how I realising I had bpd and autism. But it can also mean that people take very normal human traits and assume they have a mental illness. 


For example, everyone feels and gets nervous, job interviews, speaking in front of crowds, first day at a new job, you name it, nearly everyone will feel anxious about this. After all, anxiety is an emotion that is perfectly normal to feel. But where people go wrong is assuming that they therefore have an anxiety disorder because of their very normal experiences with anxiety. Anxiety becomes a problem and a disorder when the symptoms start to cause serious distress, discomfort or disrupts your ability to do everyday activities. So let’s say two people have to speak separately in front of a crowd, and are both understandably anxious about having to do this. The individual who is anxious may have sweaty palms, worry that they will forget what they have to say and think of the worse situation, but they take themselves on stage, speak to everyone, come off stage and move on with their day. Whereas the individual with an anxiety disorder may experience the same symptoms, but instead of going on stage anyway, they may have a panic attack or begin to hyperventilate and be so anxious that they are unable to go ahead with their speech and have to cancel last minute. Where both individuals experience symptoms of anxiety, only one of them is impacted in a way that affects their daily life and abilities. 


When mental illnesses are portrayed in film and TV, we usually see a very dramatised portrayal to make for a more interesting watch. This can also lead to false assumptions on mental illness, and believe that everyone with that condition acts that way. This can be especially prominent with borderline personality disorder, psychosis, schizophrenia and other conditions. It is a well renowned stigma and stereotype that individuals with bpd are manipulative, expert liars and overall bad people, which of course is not true. In many portrayals of bpd in the media, it is someone who manipulates and lies their way out of trouble, or the very common “psycho ex girlfriend” trope, where the traits of abandonment issues, extreme emotions, suicidal tendencies and others  commonly associated with bpd are used to make us appear to be crazy, a nuisance or a problem. 


This is also a prevalent issue with other conditions of course, autism for example is a common one, with characters like Sheldon Cooper from the Big Bang Theory, Forrest Gump, Sam from Atypical and many others, which further enhances the problem with females and falling through the cracks of the diagnosis criteria for autism. These characters make people assume that you cannot be autistic unless it is extremely obvious in the way you speak and act, because not many producers and directors see a female with autism who is visibly “normal” and who masks their autism so well as a, well, boring character. It is much easier for them to cast a neurotypical male and have them act out stereotypical autistic traits such as not understanding sarcasm, being blunt and to the point without much empathy or interest in others emotions, rigid and black and white thinking, obsessions with specific objects (fucking tRaInS) and a general “awkwardness” about them. 


Don’t get me wrong, mental illness can be portrayed positively in the media, and there are positive examples of those with influence speaking out, such as Demi Lovato and her openness about her struggles with bipolar, addiction and bulimia, or Carrie Fisher and Stephen Fry, both also diagnosed with bipolar disorder. Chrissy Tiegan advocates for her struggles with post partum depression, Lady Gaga has also openly discussed her experience with PTSD following her rape ordeal when she was 19. These people can often be the butt of jokes and used as comical anecdotes in film and TV (e.g Britney Spears very public breakdown, Lindsay Lohan and her substance misuse addiction etc) but it’s important to remember their bravery in opening themselves and their very vulnerable personal lives and struggles to the public eye, something many of us struggle to even tell our own families about. But despite this, mental illness is way too often either romanticised to be cute, quirky and different and funny personalities, or even worse, demonised to the public eye that further enforces stigma and shame - a prime example is white terrorists, where instead of just outright calling them what they are, terrorists and murderers, they are named by their illness or categorised as mentally unwell, schizophrenic, or psychotic. But that’s a whole other post. 


I guess the moral of this almost ranting post, is yes use mental illness in the media to encourage you to educate yourself and further your knowledge on mental health conditions, but don’t assume the life that one character portrays is the same for everyone with the same diagnosis, or assume that someone in your real life can’t possibly have that illness because they live a starkly contrasted lifestyle to the character on your screen. Essentially, take tv shows and films with a pinch of salt and use your own knowledge and education to help others to not make this mistake either. 


Meg x 

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I think it's completely reasonable at this point to assume everyone's 2020 has been utter horse shit, a write off, a flusher of a year. But for me 2020 has been the most challenging, heart-breaking and life changing year yet - and I'm hoping ever. But I haven't written on here in a long time and I think I owe myself a round up of everything that's happened and to also remind myself that despite all the shit I've been through this year, I'm still here and standing and that is something I should be proud of myself for.

Despite my january relapse, my mental health slowly started improving at the start of the year, I got myself a new job I was due to start soon and had started a relationship with a man from nottingham where I frequently visited him, me and my friends had our usual messy night outs and it seemed like this year would be the same as the rest of them. Until of course March, and the first covid lockdown was announced. At the time I was at my boyfriends and unsure what to do for the lockdown, and after only two months of dating we made the decision for me to move in temporarily. 

I then started my new job at a nottingham branch, as a residential childcare worker in a childrens home, and I fell in love with it. I loved my job, every incident of name calling, banter with the kids, talking with the other staff, driving around, it kept me going. And then I relapsed, and again. 

I'm fairly used to the highs and lows of bpd by now, but this year was something else, one minute i'd be on cloud nine, and the next it would all come crashing down around me, and I'd be back in handcuffs, by the riverside with my boyfriend crying on the phone to my crying family telling them I'd once again tried to end my life, and this cycle continued until September, where I was finally admitted to a psychiatric unit as an informal patient - I luckily escaped a section - and my boyfriend called our relationship to an end. 

So much in my life changed this year, I moved cities, I started a new very quickly very serious relationship, I started a new job and my life I had gotten into a safe routine of crumbled and everything was new, a life of masks and fear and social distancing and for the first time in 22 years I was away from my family and making new routines of my own in a new home with a new man. So it's hardly surprising when all these changes started to take a noticeable toll on my mental health and how I dealt with it, and the topic of an autism diagnosis was brought up for the first time since I was 15 when it was first questioned and never resolved, so I finally plucked up the courage and spoke to my doctor about a referral and  I'm now awaiting a formal diagnosis. This year has brought out the worst in me, I've had to adapt in ways I didn't think I'd ever have to and deal with things I'd never dealt with before.

And on the 16th July, we lost my beloved grandad Brian. A man that I will miss and think about forever, truly the most wonderful and gentlemanly man I have and will ever meet. Even when you know the death of a loved one is not far off, and we'd known for a long time this was coming, it never gets easier, that long awaited and dreaded phone call comes and they're just gone. Forever. It really really sucks. And I know I'm far from the only person to have lost loved one this year, and to those of you who also have my heart and love goes out to you, it is awful and something nobody wants.

So there I was, heart broken and at my lowest, sat inside a psychiatric ward for the first time being a patient and not a member of staff. It was only two weeks of an admission, but it was one of the worst times of my life. When they told me after a week that they wanted to discharge me a week later with no changes to my meds or care, I was terrified, but then the day before my discharge my doctor pulled me to one side and told me I'd be moving to a supported living unit called Beacon Lodge in nottingham where I would live with 24/7 staff support for 8 weeks. I thought it was just to get me back on my feet, but eventually when I moved to beacon I was told the plan for me was to help me get onto the nottingham council house list and get my own home and start my own life down here with the help of my CPN's and mental health team. This didn't go quite to plan as 11 weeks later I was still living at beacon and still no luck on the council list. but by week 11 I was told I had a flat, but it wouldn't be ready until february and since I couldn't stay at beacon lodge and start my new job (I was dismissed by my old job and had to find something new) I had to move..

and now it's December, and I'm currently living in a homeless shelter. Which sounds pretty dramatic, but it's okay. It's my own self-contained flat, and sure it smells of weed and it's noisy and it was scary at first but it's a roof over my head with a brighter future of my own flat and a new job to look forward to. 

So that's where I'm currently at. It's been the longest, winding road of shit storm of a year, but we've made it. I honestly thought this was the year I'd be gone, the year I'd finally do it, and all I can say is, I'm so glad I didn't and I finally got onto the road of help I need. I have two CPNs, regular appointments with a psychiatrist and plans to start therapy in the new year. Life still isn't perfect, I'm pretty lonely down here with no family and friends and a tier 4 to restrict me seeing them anyway, but the future seems a hell of a lot brighter than it did a few months ago, and even thought it's a small improvement, I will gladly take it with  both hands.

I know this year has been tough, on everyone. And if you got to end of this post and you've also had a shitty year, just know that you are not alone. Your feelings are valid and please please talk to someone if you are struggling. I know all too well what it feels like to want the world to just stop and keep that bottled up inside, please let it out. 

I really genuinely hope 2021 is better. I have to believe it will be or boy are we in trouble. Manifesting a whole lot of love, happiness and all that shit to every single one of you. Keep going and stay strong.

Meg x

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 "you used to be this confident, 'didn't need no one person'" 

Used to be.  Because I'm no longer confident, I no longer think I can conquer the world on my own, I no longer know who I am. 

Who am i? 

I don't recognise myself in the mirror anymore, I don't know who the megan in the reflection is, or who Megan is at all. 

I remember laughing, and happy times, and now I don't feel like I'll ever laugh or feel happy again. It might sound dramatic, but that's what mental illness does to you, it drains you of all positive emotions, makes you forget the good times you've had, and think you'll never have them again. 

My mental illness has tore me apart for going on ten years now, and I'm tired. I'm tired of feeling down, of feeling depressed, of losing people because I can't contain myself. I've lost the person I thought I would love forever, because of my illness and what it causes me to do and be like, it's changed me into a person I don't even recognise anymore. 

I don't want to be angry, or violent, or lash out, or upset anyone. But that's all I'm capable of doing right now, is pushing people away or making them leave because of how I am. And I can't do it anymore but I don't know how to stop it. 

When I feel anger, I don't know how to stop it, I don't know it's coming and I can't stop myself to take a breath, I don't remember what I say to people or what I do, I just remember words and then shaking and feeling this fire within me, and  I don't know how to make it stop. I don't know how to stop being this angry horrible version of me. I don't want to hurt anyone, or upset anyone. But I can't cope with this feeling, this feeling of someone taking over me, and making me say these things and lash out, that's not me. That's not Megan anymore and I don't know who this person is.

I have moments, brief moments, where I want to live. I want to live my life and be happy and do all the things I want to do, and then they come crashing down to the tune of the voiceless person living in my head who says no, no you can't do any of those things. This person wants to kill me, whether it to put me out of my misery or to harm me I don't know but this is the person behind the suicide attempts, it's not Megan. 

Megan wants to live, wants to move out and get dogs and have their own place and work and earn money to travel, spend time with her family, take her niece places, play with her dog. And for brief moments this seems possible. 

When I look in the mirror, I see a hollow shell of a person. A girl lost to her mental ill health, a girl lost in the world, unknowing of who to turn to or what to do. But that's not who I want to be anymore, I just don't know how to find her again. 

I suppose the whole point of life is to find yourself, but right now it seems a dauntingly hard task. A task I'm not sure where I can start with. I suppose I go to the therapies I'm offered, live each day and learn who I am. 

Meg x

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Today is the 16th, and as of today I have been admitted to a psychiatric unit as an informal inpatient. 

This is not something I necessarily wanted for myself or what my loved ones wanted for me, but my recent actions and my actions of last night where I attempted once again to take my own life mean I am at too much of a risk to myself to be supported in the community anymore.

I’m very scared, I feel very alone and I’m not sure what the future holds for me, but for my own sake and the ones I love, I hope this is the start of a better future and a better life for me. 

I’m past the point of being supported, I need real help and the only way I’m going to get that is by being taken care of elsewhere sadly. 

I am safe, and that is the most important thing. 

See you all on the other side,

Meg x


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So my last post was all about relapsing, so I guess world suicide prevention day came at an apt time. I want to talk today about suicide, and suicidal thoughts. I've written a post about feeling suicidal before which you can catch up on here, but today I want to come back to the topic

Feeling suicidal is so much more than the want to die, sometimes, yeah that's all I can feel, is this overwhelming sense of "I just don't want to be here", but others it's so much more.

It's feeling like you can't be helped anymore, no therapy, no talking, nothing can help this depression, this sense of worthlessness. It's feeling as though your loved ones would be better off, better off without the burden of taking care and worrying about you all the time. It's not being able to move because your limbs feel like lead, just laid in bed feeling helpless and although life is pointless now. It's feeling like nothing, not one thing is worth feeling in this much pain, not seeing your loved ones, nothing that makes you happy is worth the relentless agony that comes with mental ill health. 

When most of us say we're feeling suicidal, what that translates to for me, is that I've had enough of feeling this way, of feeling so overwhelmingly shit that I feel like I simply can't go on. It means I've hit rock bottom, and there's no way of bringing me round anymore, I'm lost in the wilderness of my mental illness, unable to find my way back to stability. It means that nothing that brings me even an ounce of happiness compares to the pain I feel just by waking up to another day of tears and sadness and emptiness. It means I want to kill the dark black hole inside of me that tears me apart, and keeps me up at night. 

I've felt suicidal on and off for around 4 years now, in the crux of my ill health, when I was first diagnosed with bpd, and I thought my life was over. But I haven't always felt this way. I've had problems with my mental health since I was 12 years old when I was diagnosed with anorexia nervosa, but even then I didn't want to die, I just didn't want to eat and gain weight. The last few years my suicidal thoughts have got me at my lowest, crept into my brain in the dead of night and eaten away at my thoughts, or sometimes they've opened my brain during a normal day, walked right in and made themselves at home. 

Suicide attempts are aplenty in my past, but they don't have to be or define my future. Nor does it have to define yours either. 

I refuse to be a statistic, I refuse to be a sad story, I refuse to be lost my mind and my illness.

I'm going to fight, and if you're out there struggling like me, I hope you will join me.

Meg x

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I relapsed. A few weeks ago on a monday evening I tried to take my life three times, and not for the first time this year. I was subsequently detained under a section 136 of the mental health act twice in 24 hours, and in total spent around 45 hours sectioned and released back home twice, I'm exhausted still, but I am safe. I am home and trying to get some help - as impossible as that is these days - and trying to move on, but I want to talk about it, so I'm here. 

I don't ever share my personal stories for pity, or empathy or attention. I share them because I think we live in a world where the only things people share online are positive stories and good things they're doing, and thats just not real, life isnt that rosy and nice. Life is gritty and horrible sometimes and I think it's time we showed that part of it too. 

My life definitely hasn't always been rosy. It's been rocky for a good ten years, but you look at my instagram and my facebook and I look fine, I have a boyfriend, a loving supportive family, a job, a flat and a life. But that doesnt equate to happiness, that doesnt take my demons away, or hide the pain I feel. It masks the realness of real life, the sadness I feel deep down and don't share, and I refuse to live in hiding, in fear of shattering the glass of my online life. The shards are already shattered,  I may as well carry on and bring hope to people - that no one is ever alone in their struggles, or the only one to feel this way. No one is beyond help, or unable to find happiness. 

Relapse always seems like such a dirty word, you think of relapse and what do you think and feel? For me it's shame, weakness and failure. During my episode, I relapsed on self-harming twice. It had been over 18 months since I last hurt myself so the disappointment in myself was real, but something I need to remember myself is that, healing is not linear. It isn't one straight line graph of you starting at the bottom and going to the top, it's a humongous rollercoaster of ups and downs and blips. But that is okay, if you relapse, you are not a failure, you are not weak, you are struggling. 

To struggle is okay, it's normal, it's human. But it means it's time to get help, something I'm slowly realising as i get older. I've always been afraid to ask for help, scared to reach out and be rejected as I usually have by my mental health team. But this time it's different, as my boyfriend said to me the night I came home, it's gone too far now, I've hit rock bottom and I have to ask for help on getting myself back up, and I'm trying. 

But for now, it's time to do a whole lot of self-care, a bit of crying, and a lot of recovering. Remember, if you're out there and you're struggling, please reach out, get some help, even if that's in the means of telling a friend how you're feeling. And it's okay to have these feelings too, you're human and your feelings are valid.

Stay safe and stay lovely,

Meg x

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Hello again! Today we're talking about unstable self image, the negative and unstable way people with BPD see themselves and how this affects us. To have a stable sense of self you can see yourself as the same person in the past, present and future, and understand who you are. 

For those with BPD, it's not as simple. We simply do not know who we are. It's hard to explain, so bare with me through this post. But essentially we are actors, chameleons if you will, constantly changing and adapting to those around us to make the best fit, personality and character for the role. A "normal" person may change who they are, for example, they may be silly and loud with friends, but quiet and serious and professional with colleagues, but for those with BPD this is a much more profound change, we are whole new people, with a whole new set of traits to go with it. 

Growing up, I never understood why I couldn't figure out who I was. I feared that simple phrase, "so, tell me a bit about yourself" I didn't know what to say. When prompted in therapies and at school and to write in social media bios, I just couldn't find the words to describe myself, I couldn't think of a single thing I liked, liked to do, who I was, it's like I became this shell of nothingness. I spent a lot of my time growing up longing for something, I didn't even know what it was, but I wanted something that would make me understand the person I was. Now I understand I was looking for a reason to be worthy, a purpose in life. 

When I was a teenager, I would copy everything my friends did, the clothes they wore, I bought. The music they liked, I downloaded. The friends they had, were the friends I had. The way they spoke and their mannerisms, were now mine. Everything I did, I did to fit in, to feel "normal". I so wanted to be normal, liked, funny, appreciated. Because secretly in my head, I was fighting a constant battle with my sense of self, of belonging, and with my mental illness. I remember liking books growing up, but my newer friends didn't, so I stopped reading, I started to listen to the same music they did, asked my mum to buy me the clothes they had, I wouldn't ever disagree with their opinions in fears they'd leave me, and so kept quiet. 

Now I'm a bit older and understand my illness much more, I have a more stable sense of self. I'm no longer afraid to say to someone "I think you're wrong" or "I disagree" because I have my own opinions and I know them. I know I'm a good person, I know that I like dogs and drawing and writing and that i have a good sense of humour and can be very intelligent depending on the subject (not science pls god no science) . I no longer rely on the people around me to validate my own thoughts and feelings, because I have my own and I am my own person.

I am still a chameleon though, an actor playing a role. Because I have BPD, and that may be how I am for a long time or it may be something I keep working on and learning and growing and grow out of, I don't know. I still look to other people for my way of how to behave, I still get extreme anxiety and have attacks when I'm meant to go somewhere and I don't know what everyone else is wearing, will I wear the wrong thing and be embarrassed? Laughed out of there quicker than I can say panic attack? And I still struggle to define and describe myself to others. 

But that's okay, and having an unstable sense of self is okay. I know that I have BPD and that it changes the way a "normal" brain may conceive of everyday things and that's why I react the way I do, I know that sometimes I need reassurance and the approval of others to feel comfortable in being me, and I know that I am a good person and I know I am worthy. 

I also know that I am adaptable, I know how to change myself up for new people and new situations and I see this as a positive. My career history and present is with children and adults with mental health issues or learning disabilities and difficulties, and therefore being adaptable is great! I know when I need to adapt my way of speaking and my mannerisms and my professionalism to each and every person and I can adapt who I am to fit in with that person, to build working relationships with people and be onside. It also makes me friendly and approachable to all, I would never want someone to think badly of me so I would never behave so to get that reaction. 

I am still learning who I am, but I know that I am worthy and I know I will never stop learning who I am so that's okay. I know what is meaningful and important in my life and that's all that matters. And in time, so will you.

Meg x 
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Meg Hobson

Meg Hobson

About me

Hello lovelies!
I'm Meg and I'm a mental health blogger from South Yorkshire, UK.
Get in touch! meg.elizabeth.98@hotmail.co.uk

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