Wednesday, 25 November 2015

The Tampon Tax?

Okay, so I've seen this a lot on social media and tbh I've never really thought about how things are taxed but after having a little read up I am absolutely infuriated. I'm not going to explain in incase I get it wrong but here this explains it better and gives you a list of things that are taxable and exempt.

So according to this incontinence products are not taxed but maternity pads and sanitary products are... Hang on one motherfucking minute. Incontinence products are basically like nappies... or pads... P A D S. They are basically the same thing! Why are tampons and sanitary towels taxable but adult nappies aren't?

I keep seeing things like "does it really matter?", "how much are you girls gunna save?", I don't know if it's really the point. It's not about the money as much as it is about fairness. Why is it that sanitary products are taxed when condoms aren't?  They are in the same sort of region. Nuts in their shell aren't taxed but nuts without are? It's just so stupid.

Lets just break it down for me:

So every month I buy a box of tampons, a pack of nighttime pads and a box of liners. The tampons cost £2.29, night pads £2.10 and the liners £1.65. I use almost all of them every month. I'll have a few left over but it isn't enough for the next month so I will always have to buy more.

Let me walk you through shark week.

Day one: A really bad nosebleed and that moment when Flyn got stabbed in Tangled but repeatedly plus an impacted wisdom tooth but not in my face... Halp I'm fucking dying. Can I eat everything all at once, also don't look at me like that. I think I'll cry over something that didn't happen and chocolate. Do not ask me to move. Oi husband, I want to do things with you but I can't so I'm annoyed. Also, fuck, fuck them, fuck off, fuck all the fuckers.
(7-10 tampons and liners)

Day two: Sliced my hand whilst chopping veg and I slammed my bike brakes on too hard and hit myself on the handle bars... I may need to go to the hospital. This isn't so bad. Chocolate. Do I smell? Have I bled on everything? Chocolate. At least I'm not pregnant. Chocolate. Hot water bottles are life. Chocolate. Also, fuck off. Chocolate.
(5-7 tampons and liners)

Day three: Cut my leg shaving and I dropped my phone on my face... But it hurts in my abdomen. It is nearly over. I need to buy more chocolate. No. Wait, I don't want anymore chocolate. Also, fuckbucket.
(3-5 tampons and 7 liners)

Day four: Sneezes during a small nose bleed, I may have eaten too much chocolate. You know that random stitch you get in your ribs, that but not in my ribs. Also, fuck you.
(2-3 tampons and 5 liners)

Day five: I brushed my teeth to hard and my gums are bleeding, ow. The end is nigh. I'm okay.
(1-2 tampons and 4 liners)

Day six: What even? It is still happening? Oh wait... Yes. Yes, it is.
(3-5 liners)

Day seven: Oh God. It's finally over. I am free. Master has given Monica freedom.

So per cycle I spend about £6 and every year I spend nearly £80 on not bleeding on everything I love and being hygienic. If it were to not be taxed it would only be about £4 cheaper for me but it's not the point.

It's the concept that not bleeding on everything and being able to carry on normally is somehow luxury when taking time off because of "lady problems" is frowned upon and deemed a cop out, it apparently cost businesses thousands every year, if we didn't have feminine hygiene products we sure as shit wouldn't be able to come into work because we would be bleeding all over the fucking place.

Tampons shouldn't be taxed.

It's not about misogyny or feminism. It's about common sense and fairness.

Women's products tend to cost more than dudes do even when they are almost identical. If the difference seems trivial to you then it shouldn't matter if it cost the same either.

If you can say "is it really a big deal?" then you are pretty much answering your own question. It should cost the same because it isn't a big deal or difference.

If I still lived with my mum, three women in one household- we would be spending £240 a year, that is a big deal. If you just say everyone uses the same kinda thing I use to make it easy, then there are just over 30 million women in the uk that are of average menstruating ages that would be (by my estimate) £720,000,000- £36 million of which (again, by my estimate) would be tax. In individual terms, just speaking per person it seems infinitesimal, but add it up and it's shocking.

Before anyone says anything, I'm not jumping on the feminism band wagon. I'm just thinking logically.

Condoms not being taxed to me doesn't seem like it's in favour of males, chicks buy condoms too. It's not like you have to dress up as a dude to buy condoms, you don't need to show your "I am a man" ID to buy condoms. Anyone can buy condoms, anyone can get them free from clinics, anyone can use them. So how is condoms not being taxed misogynistic? It's not like female condoms and dental dams are taxed, just dick condoms aren't. Most types of contraception are available free in the UK for women and men through the NHS.

The tampon tax is outdated, nonsensical and should be abandoned.

Also, David Cameron saying that he can't change it because of EU ruling is funny as fuck. The UK does as it wants. We all know this.

EU: Greece needs cash. They is broke AF.
UK: Naaaaah, we're good. Soz.
EU: What? You gotta.
UK: Did I fucking stutter?
EU: Umm... Okay.
UK: Laterzzz


Anyways, I'm out.


Saturday, 21 November 2015

I am a high achiever

Why do some people my age feel sorry for me? Why do they ask "do you wish you'd married later?" or the say "I would have at least gone to uni" and "you have barely even lived!". Why were my teachers so disappointed when I said I wasn't going to be continuing education? Because I had so much potential and it was a waste of my talent? My potential and talent hasn't been somehow dissolved, it is still there; except now I'm not using for a test or a piece of coursework, I am not in a classroom answering questions.  I get to use my brain when I want to, I am not forced to. I learn all the time, at the moment I am learning Makaton - at my own pace, of my own will. You don't need to look down at me because I'm (in your eyes) "just a housewife" or feel bad because (in your opinion) "I didn't get to live out my freedom". You don't need to concern yourself at all with my wellbeing. 

To be frank: Dude. Back. The. Fuck. Off. 

My biggest achievement is being happy.

I am happy with the life I live. I am happy with my husband and the relationship we have. I am happy with the beautiful son we have bought into this world. 

I'm happy with the person I now am, I'm proud of the wife and mother I am. So why don't you just do you?

Let me try and break it down for you as best I can... You know when you look for a job and they say "must have this-many-years experience" and you're just like "how am I meant to get that, if no fucker will hire me?". Well it's a bit like that. There are people from the generation before you that are doing the job you want with none of the pieces of paper and years of training you have but they are regarded as better and more qualified because they have been doing the job so long, they know the ins and outs better than you ever will, you may have all the programs and processes on your computer but they have a better understanding of their clientele and the industry. I may not have the qualifications you have but I have experience in actual life. Things you just can't seem to get down, I have figured. I can run a home - to you washing up, laundry and cooking isn't really important but do you remember how much you loved being at home? Your mum kept you fed, clean and happy, well I get to be that now, that feeling you got when you came home to your favourite meal or got in to bed with clean sheets- I am the supplier of that feeling. Responsibility - I am raising a child, I am a mother; darling, you can barely look after yourself and the concept of being responsible for another human is terrifying. Commitment- I have a marriage whereas you are still looking over at your boyfriend/girlfriend and thinking "I hope this lasts". I'm no longer a newly wed, I'm an old hand at being married. I'm not a new mum anymore, I've got this parenting shit down. I'm life-ing. I'm adulting the shit out of life. 

I may not have a conventional job or a degree but I am a high achiever in life.

I. Am. Happy.

You are still working to get to your happy ever after- the job, the house, cars, partner, kids, holidays, whatever. I'm 22 and I'm not lost anymore. I'm found. I know whom I am (for the most part). I wake up every morning knowing I am doing what I love so who are you to tell me my life and passions are meaningless and small. All I ever dreamed of as a child was to be happy, job ambitions came and went for me but wanting a family and being this happy was a constant. 

Your dreams are yours, stop pissing all over my parade and belittling my happiness. Stop dreaming for me and telling me my happiness is not what you want, guess what? You don't have to want it because you aren't me. 
My sister wants to be a dentist and my brother (atm) wants to work in Formula One as a tech, you know what I say to them every time we talk about it?

"Go for it!"I tell them to work hard and achieve the goals. I remind them time and time again that if they want something in life they have to work their asses off to get it and then even harder to maintain it. What ever they believe in, what ever they want, what ever they feel is right for them I support them whole heartedly because it is what makes them happy. 

Does this look unhappy to you?
That's my wedding day. 

Does this look unsatisfied to you?

Thats me with my son. 

Does this look like I'm wasting my talent?

This is my life. This is my job. This is my happiness. 

What do you want the most?




Sunday, 15 November 2015

A great wife or a great mum?

When I was young I was told you have to choose which you want to be - a great mum or a great wife because you cannot be both all of the time, whilst I was growing up I had very much decided that being a great mum and a mediocre wife was the obvious choice. My partner is an adult and my child is an infant and as such the decision to give more energy and attention to the infant made more sense, I mean adults do not require twenty-four hour attention and diligence. 

Then I turned 19, I got married and all of that began to blur. 

For starters I was told I was sterile and if I, by any miracle was to conceive the pregnancy would never carry to term or one of us wouldn't survive birth and as such it was quietly decided between us that children wouldn't be a part of our future unless we changed our minds and doctors gave an all clear. So I didn't have to think about picking what role I would be better at. I was, by default, allowed to be a wife (although for the first year or so I was a shitty wife) and choosing wasn't an issue. 

However, life has its own plans and there ain't diddly squat us lowly fuckers can do about it, and a lovely incredible thing happened - I got a little bit pregnant, then a lot pregnant, then hella pregnant and then not pregnant at all and was totes a mum. 

I became a mummy to a son and my husband became a daddy. We were parents.  

Parents. Like actual parents to a tiny little human being. He has everything we have just really little versions, like he has a tiny little heart and miniature fingers, he has fingerprints but they are just really small so if he was to commit a crime they would be like "hey, this is a really small criminal" not that he would be a criminal, he can't even walk.... anyway. 

All of a sudden, we had a new member of the gang. Our third musketeer and life was pretty awesome. Sleepless and very out of sync but awesome as fuck. 

After the first six months our new little friend wasn't so new and he began sleep through the night, he started solid foods and tried to chat with us. Now that I was sleeping more and could sometimes switch my brain off, I was more lucid and not so exhausted and this made me realise my husband had taken a back seat when it came to my undivided attention. Although he hadn't really said anything to highlight it other than the occasional "I miss spending time with you" and "you're always tired" I realised it was really hurting him but he loved our son so much that losing me to motherhood (and in turn a bit of himself) was something he had decided was okay. 

But it wasn't okay; not to me. 

I had let myself become "just a mum". I had forgotten the person that made me a mum and before that a wife, underneath piles of laundry and nappies and 4am feeds. We still spent a lot of time together but it was punctuated with feeds, fussing/settling, changing and me always falling asleep. We weren't arguing about anything and everything like everyone says you do after a baby is born but sometimes things were a little too quiet and screens became a little too occupying. We were still all over each other like a rash but you never really fully switch off the sonic hearing you acquire upon becoming parents so full mental attention was hard. I'm a clean freak but because I was so tired, a shower would be okay to skip another day than is really necessary (or hygienic) so I wouldn't want to snuggle too close in fear of blinding and stunning my lovely husband, my nails went unpainted and became ever shorter; a far cry from the nails I usually sported, even as I was in labour (hot pink glitter fade, if anyone is interested). I've never been one for makeup and actual clothes if I'm at home, shorts and vests, big T-shirts; anything that can be used as pyjamas but isn't actually pyjamas is fair game to me, but even that was replaced with ugly support bandages, ill-fitting tops that were easy to nurse in and long loungewear to hide my legs. I became more and more covered as my pregnancy/mummy body was unsightly in my own eyes, I was cut, sore, bruised, asymmetrical, too skinny and untoned. I'm not a particularly shallow or vain person but my body wasn't mine anymore. It was a nursing and caring machine that looked unfamiliar and foreign and that hurts like a motherfucker. I was proud of my body for what it had done and was doing but... I just wasn't comfortable in my own skin and that made it hard. None of my clothes fit quite right and I wasn't confident I'd be able to wear my heels with a baby carrier, I was body lost. 

But... I wasn't going to let myself drown in that, I had down days (weeks) but I worked my ass off to try and help myself find me and start loving me. 

I made sure I showered when I scheduled, instead of when I had become a matter of biological warfare. I took care in eating more and when I stopped nursing I drank all the fucking coffee and energy drinks when I wasn't allowed to, all the motherfucking coffee ever. Fuck yes. Caffffffiiiine, bitches. 

I stretched and toned myself up. Things like kegels and squats while your brushing your teeth and walking really help. 

I bought new clothes to wear, things that fitted and suited my new body, I'm skinny but my legs take up most of my body so I bought new skinny jeans. I got a bunch of cute vests and soft shirts. I chose makeup looks that I liked and my husband bought me new makeup. Little things like new underwear make you feels so much better, I remember not fitting properly into my favourite set it was so disheartening but trying on new, super soft, colourful t-shirt bra and microfibre undies counters it. I may have absolutely no cleavage and ass but these are soft, comfy and fun. Painting my nails was something I would take a whole afternoon doing but it's amazing what you can do in 15 minutes with a good nail polish layered with a glitter polish, that shit ain't going nowhere for days, do the washing up all you what that sparkly fucker is staying put. 

With help from my husband, I found me again. Moni, not Mummy or Munchkin (my nickname), I found Moni. 

Then I set about rescuing my husband from under the pile of motherhood I had abandoned him under. We bought back date night, every 6th we dress up a little, we take it in turn to cook or we get a takeaway, we watch movies and leave our phones alone. I lifted my 'No Flowers' ban and I started buying Raj presents. Once a routine for my little behbeh had been established I made time for me and my husband. In the evening, at seven, once little mister is in bed and that is that; I have a "cry it out" policy, unless I can tell something is wrong (you become very intuitive to the different cries your baby has) he can fuss until he falls back to sleep, please don't think that this was easy - it took so much support from my husband and at times a firm "don't go" to get our little boy to realise that once he is in his cot - he isn't coming out until it's morning. This meant that after seven the house was grown ups- all the toys went away, I mean completely away and out of sight. The coffee table goes into the far corner and the sofa bed gets made. The curtains are closed and the baby gate is left open. Peppa Pig is switched off and I freshen up. It's amazing what brushing your hair, changing your top, washing you face and a bit of tinted lip balm does. 

All day I am a mummy- I play on the floor with my baby boy, chase him around the house, tickle his little feet and read to him. I feed my little boy, change his nappy, wash his chubby little hands and face after snack time and in general be his mummy but once he is in bed, I am a wife. 

I love being Raj's wife, we have so much in common and share so many things that it is easy being together. We listen to music together, like just play song after song for hours. We watch movies and TV together because we share humour and interests. Both of us think that going to bed at the same time is important and being on our phones for similar times is crucial, unless the other is busy and it isn't distracting us from giving them attention. We have different facets to our relationship, now we know that we are really just mates. 90% of the time we are best friends- we joke, play, fight, tease, poke fun and annoy each other like you would your best friend in year 11, this is why we work so well because when know what we are when we say stuff. If your mate said "you're a dickhead" you would laugh and reply with a similar phrase but if your spouse was to say it you would be hurt, we know that when we called each other names and ask weird questions we are best mates, we have our own made-up language and inside jokes. But there are times when we are husband and wife, things like when we need to sort out bills or we need to do the adulting we are husband and wife. Like if Raj is on his meriod, I'll be like "you're being really snappy and mean for no reason and it is upsetting me" and he will be like "I'm so sorry, just a bit meh at the moment, I love you"; but I can't think of many instances that this happens so it's like 4% of the time. The the last 6% of our relationship is the parent bit. We consult each other on everything when it comes to parenting our child. From what snacks and meals he should be eating to what toys and activities would be beneficial for him. If Raj is around I will ask simple things like "Raspberry or Apple fruit bake?", it is so mundane and small but it includes his input. He is part of it. He matters. I made sure even when I was pregnant that I included him as much as I could, even when professionals would ignore him. As much as pregnancy is mainly a female experience, becoming a parent is a joint venture, people. Just as much as I was becoming a mother, my husband was becoming a father but time and time again during checkups and appointments he was disregarded, even when I would say thing to try and include him, he would, at most, get a glance and I felt that it was wholly unfair, as a result it made me want to include him in all decisions. The phrase "it takes two" is banded around when it comes to dads after the baby is born but during pregnancy there is no support for fathers-to-be. Their wives are changing, their lives are never going to be that same again and they are going to be responsible for this tiny little human that they are expected to love when they meet them but they aren't supported emotionally. No one prepares them for what is to come. No one tells them that it is going to be the biggest rollercoaster you will ever get on but it will be amazing and hard in equal measure. 

My husband and I, are very lucky in that now we understand each other and are very patient with one another that is why becoming parents wasn't an ordeal. We aren't very good at arguing, we have never had a screaming match, we have never sworn or cursed at each other. When something is wrong we go quiet for a few hours or a day and talk about it- we sit down and chat about it until it is resolved, and if it isn't we do it all again until it is. We ask each other things like "are you ready to talk about what is bothering you?" and wait for one another to be ready to be apologised to, just because you want to say sorry doesn't mean the other person is ready to hear it. We are each other's biggest fans and supporters so we managed to muddle through it together, without all the arguments and tears. But many people aren't - being a parent and maintaining a relationship is hard work, it isn't a walk in the park by any standard but you need to make it as easy as possible for your partner. When something is bothering you talk about it, don't let it fester and then argue. Someone not pulling their weight sit down and discuss it, can't discuss it? Write it down. Find ways that are healthy and productive to get your point across. 

It took me a long time but I realised that I don't have to pick which I am better at. I can be a loving and caring mummy to my lovely little son and a fun, kickass wife to my awesome husband but the key is management; time, chores and such are all doable as long as you prioritise well and manage your time. Sometimes, it's okay to leave the housework half done, that way you won't be tired tonight and you will be able to stay awake past 8pm with your partner. It is okay to say "it's a takeaway night because I am having a lazy day". The world isn't going to end if the dishes wait until tomorrow or the laundry isn't done, but your world might feel a little cold if your spouse feels lonely. It is okay to let my baby play in his bouncer and watch Peppa Pig while eating a rusk for a little bit while we snuggle on the sofa. 

I'm proud of the mum I am and equally proud of the wife I am but it all started with loving me again; learning to do that was a long process but communication and understanding between partners made it easier.

What's your favourite thing about you and your partner?

As always- love,

Tuesday, 10 November 2015

Male Suicide : Looking After Our Lads

So like many of us in the UK I watched "Professor Green: Suicide and Me", where he talked about the loss of his father and the circumstances surrounding his death and the emotional effect it had on him; I watched it with my husband and both of us found it heartbreaking to watch but it was such an eyeopener. 

Up until I watched it if someone has asked me what the biggest killer of men under 45 was, I would have very wrongly said "liver sorosis from binge drinking", or "car accident from reckless or drunk driving", or "overdose from the use of illegal and legal highs", I would have never said "suicide". The fact that every two hours a man in the UK will take his life because he sees no other way out is terrifying and heartbreaking. But I would have never thought of it, I like most people had bought into something so dangerous- we as a society are programmed so deeply to see young men as reckless, selfish and aggressive members of society when really men under forty-five are not all like that and one of the major factors that contribute to their "classic" behaviour is the perception and standard of what a man ought to be that we thrust upon them from a young age. They are drilled to think they are meant to be:

- physically strong
- emotionally stable (or challenged)
- driven and successful. 
- the provider
- handsome
- funny

Men are tricked into believing that if they aren't "tall, dark and handsome, with a great career, education, humour and bank balance" that they are failing at life. As a child I wanted to be a boy so much, but when I got to teenage years I saw what "being a man" really meant in this day and age and I knew it wasn't all about being tough. Things for women have been and still are (though there is a long way to go until equality is achieved) improving in the last couple of decades but things for men are seen as "if it ain't broke, don't fix it" and the generations now are looking back at their dads, uncles and granddads and seeing nothing but (what they see as) strength; "real" men with that "stiff upper lip" mentality and they look at their sons and younger brothers and realising that emotions aren't evil and don't burn, asking for help isn't sin but it is hard to change your ways when everyone around you is scared too. Scared of not being manly enough, scared of not being like everyone else, scared of others looking at them differently. 

Men have something quite unique to them as a gender; they possess this sense of camaraderie that women just cannot seem to replicate, and I honestly believe this is where it needs to start, guys, you need to use this to help one another. You need to make it okay for you to come to one another and say "mate, I'm not doing so well" and listen to what they have to say. Make it okay to man hug, open up. We need a more open dialogue between you guys. I'm not saying sit in parks and bawl your eyes out, I'm saying meet up for drinks and let them chat with you. You need to be there for each other, when you accept that emotions exists and it is okay to share them; everyone else will follow suit. You have to support eachother and show a united front. When you as a gender make it okay to have a chat about your problems and discuss mental health, people will start to change their view. 

We need to stop thinking that feelings, emotions and communication skills are female traits. They are not gender specific traits, they are actually tools to help as humans - emotions such as anger and hatred, come hand-in-hand with love and happiness. Why do we limit men to the emotional range of a thimble? 

Men have dark and sad pasts too - according to Mankind Counselling 3 in 20 men are victims of sexual violence/abuse. 4% of males aged 16-59 are victims of domestic abuse. Though figures are uncertain statistics from the most recent NSPCC survey shows that of the individuals interviewed 0.2% of under 11 males suffered sexual violence and 3.1% of 11-17 year olds suffered severe sexual violence. Of the 78,000 estimated rapes committed in the UK, 9000 of them are thought to involve male victims. 

I have a baby son. I have a teenage brother. I have an adult husband. They are males at entirely different stages of life. Three family members that for others, many, many, many others are in reality part of those statistic. Three lives that are directly linked to mine in many ways and would be devastated if anything were to happen to them.

Depressions is rarely something that comes alone, it likes to host parties at your place, without telling you for all its mental health friends and they all arrive uninvited and start trashing your house. They don't leave when you ask, they don't clean up after themselves. They start fights and ruin your things. Something like intrusive thoughts seem so trivial to those who don't understand it but (in the most simple terms) they are like having a really annoying TV advert jingle in your head but instead of singing the phone number to a car insurance company, it's thoughts that at times can be quite disturbing and distressing, you keep trying to stop singing the jingle but it stays in your head. OCD compulsions seem stupid, for instance one of my compulsions is locking the front door in a certain way, if I don't lock it perfectly I will lock it twice more so it have been locked three times, because even numbers make me highly uncomfortable and then lock it one more time. If I don't get it perfect and I leave it I don't feel safe. The door is still locked but I won't feel safe, all I will be able to think is that the creepy guy that lives in the next building is going to come and slaughter me. The reality is he is at work, he doesn't even know me and he is most likely a lovely person who wouldn't hurt a fly but I can't help but think he is going to harm me, leaving my husband a widower and my son motherless. All because I didn't lock that door exactly right. It seems trivial but when it makes me feel like I am actually in danger, it isn't trivial.

Mental health is so important. Looking after your wellbeing should be in the top three on your list of shit that you need to get done but in this day and age it can be so difficult to find time to make sure you are okay. There are so many avenues that you can take to start you on the track of feeling like you, normal happy you. You don't need to be ashamed of feeling the way you are and needing/asking for help. 

When someone I know really well, a friend or family member, is working through something and I can tell they aren't them self, I will ask; if they aren't ready to talk - I give them time. If that time is more that a few weeks then I tell them this is not good for them, that they need to start trying to talk about it. Write a list, write a letter to them self, a letter to me - anything that gets what they are keeping inside out into the real world. If it doesn't work I start with tough love. We aren't going until you start talking, I care about you and I want to help but unless you tell me what is wrong I cannot begin to help. If they still aren't talking to me then I go to a person I know they trust and tell them that I am worried. I haven't gotten past this stage before but if I was to need to take further action, I think I would get each person that cares about them to write a short note, attached to a small meaningful gift, I would send all of it to  them with a list of everyones numbers. After that I think it would have to be a full on intervention. But thats me. The people I have around me and care about know me and know that I am a loving, hands on person. You need to find what you think would help your loved one or friend. 

I can promise you that I know what mind set you have to be in to make that decision. The planning, the internal argument and reasoning. Please, please, please just stop, just stop and listen to me for just one second. I can tell you that each and every one of your problems - no matter how big or small, no matter how hopeless or desperate it seems there are ways of solving it, they may not be easy or quick but they are solvable. You are not a burden. You are not better off dead. You are not "doing them a favour". There are people that will miss you, wish they had done more, think about you everyday and miss you beyond anything they could imagine. You are not worthless and pathetic. You are not unfixable. You are not damaged beyond repair. You are so much more than you think you are right now.  You just need time. You need help. You need support.  

I don't know you but I know that you are a human being and you should not be feeling like taking your life is the only option you have.

Things get better, it is a long and hard process but it is worth it. If you end your life you will never meet your perfect partner and fall in love. You will never get to have you perfect family. You will never fulfil all of the dreams you had as a child. If you end your life you just kill all hope of ever finding the happiness you deserve. You will never know.  

Don't do it. Please get help. Please talk to someone, anyone. Please keep trying. 

If you are or have been feeling suicidal, depressed or you feel you are struggling to cope, seek help. Having a bad day isn't the end of the world but of you can't remember the last time you had a good day, you should see someone - a doctor, therapist, parent, partner, friend.

You can call Samaritans on 116 123. You can go to your local GP and organise an appointment. Just anything. Please. 

Things will get better, you just need to take the first step and when things get difficult keep moving forward. 

So come on lads, let's stop two guys every hour from killing themselves. Lets get talking. It starts with you. 

With all my love,