In just over 24 hours, it’ll be 2020.

This year hasn’t been the easiest, but there is always light in darkness, and that light is you.

You make me feel alive, when I don’t want to live. You make me feel strong when I’m beaten down. You make me feel valued when I’m nothing at all.

I don’t know how we got into this position, but I am sure as hell glad to be back in your life. 7 years ago we were clueless teenagers. 5 years ago we stopped speaking. 2 weeks ago you came back, stronger, better and kinder. It’s hard to see what you see in me.

I’m broken.

But you don’t care. You make me feel safe. Calm. Hopeful.

After a year that made me lose faith in everything, you’re a glimmer of hope. The potential of a future with you lights a fire inside me that makes me want to be better.

You make me want to be better.

2020 is not the year I give up. 2020 is a year of hope.

Katie-Lou x


Hello to anyone reading this 🤷🏻‍♀️

I started this blog in January 2019 hoping to document my year, and recovery from a significantly bad spate of poor mental health. I thought 2019 was going to be my year, that I would re-find myself, and rediscover my passion for writing and love of life. Things didn’t quite go to plan.

The beginning of the year started off as any other, the business of work kept me occupied from February through to March, as it usually does following the Christmas break. I was feeling okay in myself, but my mental health was still poor and I was operating as a hermit once again, only leaving the house for work, and my promised-to-my-mum quick walk around the local shops every Saturday.

April came and things took a turn for the worse. My mental health limiting my outings brought arguments with my then-boyfriend, which turned to more significant issues with our relationship. This itself only made my mental health worse, and deep down I knew things weren’t going to last. Still, I soldiered on, praying that his attitude and thoughts would change, and my confidence grow.

The beginning of May we broke up, and with that went my custody of our cat, Bee. I was devastated, but the threat of “I won’t survive without him” rattled me, and I gave him up to my ex for good.

The days that followed were hard. A combination of my closest colleague leaving, my two best friends breaking up and fighting, and the end of my CBT shook me to the core. I was low, desperate and nearly at the point of relapse, but my friends rallied and didn’t let it happen.

The weeks that followed I became stronger. I felt more alive than I have in years. One of my closest friends from the States visited me and I toured him around the city with newfound confidence. I was my own person again. Anxiety still haunted me, but I pushed past it and tried my best not to let it control me.

Now we are in September, I am hopeful to begin writing again with a fresh new start (having deleted all my previous posts).

Maybe I will finally document my recovery as I planned at the beginning of the year. Who knows.

Katie-Lou x

P.S. I got my own kitten at the beginning of July, his name is Casper and he is beautiful.