Things To Consider, When It Comes To 13 Reasons Why.

You don’t have to agree, I just needed to say that despite all controversy; why I thought 13 reasons started important conversations.

To give you a bit of low down, this show follows a teenage girl through encounters in her life that unfortunately add up to her taking her life. But I’m not here to give you the synopsis.

It’s confronting, not doubt. No one wants to deal with that. When you sit down at the end of the day you don’t think “oh that look likes easy to watch” because it’s fucking not. We’re not use to something so hard hitting – but that doesn’t mean that it shouldn’t have been aired.

Personally, I was able to watch the first 9 episodes by myself, but as soon as it intensified I always waited till my boyfriend was around to watch it with me.

(I’m going to put a side note right here; that if you are feeling suicidal, depressed, anxious that there are helplines (like beyond blue), and its important to look to those for guidance and understanding and not TV shows (no matter what show.))

The show has a rating of MA15+, because yes, it feels so freaking real.

DISCLAIMER: I don’t believe it is a wise idea to binge watch this show, as I stated it is not an easy show and needs time to be digested, and bingeing can lead to feeling overwhelmed.

But isn’t that the reality of it, that it is real? That people we surround ourselves with everyday suffer from anxiety, depression, thoughts of suicide everyday, and we’re not even aware of it. That is not okay. Isn’t it about starting the conversation, so they can too? I think that’s important.

I’ve read a lot of articles about the show since it’s released, a lot of them like to blame the antagonist.

They say things like “but it’s her own fault for not seeking help.” But she did and they didn’t listen.

“It’s not fair for her to do that to the other kids, say they killed her, when she killed her, and Bryce (her rapist) killed her.”

I don’t know about you, but the main point I got from the show was how essential and important it is to take responsibility for your own actions. In fact, in each and every episode; this lesson was hinted at again and again until the last few episodes where a few of the characters actually gave in, and took responsibility for what they did. It’s pretty hard to miss. Yet here are so many articles BLAMING people, which, (I think) proves the opposite point to what 13 Reasons Why was trying to teach.

Again, in response to the phrase above. The second lesson I thought that came from this show was that no one ever has the right to tell any other person what or how they should be feeling. You don’t get to decide, how other people feel about what you do, and say. Everyone is entitled to their own feelings and no one has any right to minimize them just because they don’t feel like it was really worth feeling that way. No, you don’t get to choose.

“Hannah is a brat, and way too over dramatic.”

Sure she is, totally agree. But she’s a teenage girl, who just moved towns, was abandoned by her best friend and is left in a town where she is classified as a slut and more for no apparent reason. Teenage years are hard enough, as it is, let alone with everyone else that went on. And you know what? It is a reality. Because there are teenagers out there dealing with bullying, and depression, and anxiety and I’m sure that sometimes they seem over dramatic too, to people who don’t know the full story. Because like I said, you never get to decide how someone else should feel, even if it’s too over dramatic for your taste.

Here’s the part where I change ships for a little bit. While I believe 13 reasons why is important, and teaches relevant lessons.

There are 3 scenes that I wouldn’t recommend watching, because like the rest of the show, they seem too real. These scenes are the two rape scenes that occur, in episode 10 & 12. And the suicide scene in episode 13, because while there are just as vial scenes on many other TV shows; a method of how to commit suicide should never be shown or explained, because you don’t know who is watching, or what they’re thinking. Period.

My last point, is one that really got to me.

13 Reasons Why glorifies suicide.” I don’t mind being wrong – but I don’t see how. In fact, the whole 13 episodes you know what I see? I see hurt. I see anger. I sweet heart break in all those who actually cared about Hannah. I see tortured souls looking for answers because they’re confused and hurt. Because that’s what suicide does; it doesn’t stop the pain, it passes it along to someone else. And they’re is nothing, to be glorified about that.

To finish, I think 13 reasons why taught some important lessons.

  1. How important it is to start the conversation, whether you are the concerned loved one, or you are wanting to reach out for help.

  2. No one has any right to tell anyone person how they should or shouldn’t be feeling.

  3. How important it is for everyone to act responsibly for their own actions (aka, don’t treat people like shit – no matter what you’re going through; you don’t know what they’re going through.

That’s all from me, you don’t have to agree. I just needed to say.

K x

18109749_1706703572689998_783334202_n.jpgIMPORTANT NOTEBeyond Blue is an Australian suicide and help hotline available at all times to all people. Never hesitate to call if you are a loved one are in danger and in need of support, or contact emergency services on 000. It’s always important (and encouraged) to ask for help.

How to last a little longer;

These past few months, I have felt and been lots of things. I have been healed, happy, and heartbroken, all at one time. My body had been torn down by a virus that spread to a more serious condition, that took all of my strength. I was left basically crippled, bed ridden, I can’t say that I was happy. I can’t say that being unable to move or function didn’t have a huge toll on my emotions, and obviously my every day life. Yet everyday, I found something that made me happy, that made me smile, because even if this virus took all of my strength – I wouldn’t let it take me with it.

I don’t know how to explain to you what the past few months were like for me, but there is this song, and it has a line that stuck with me.

“I was so much younger yesterday.”

And if I had to choose one sentence to let myself describe to you the past few months, let me tell you that it would be that, because oh my, I was so much younger, before these past few months.

Looking back now, I feel so many things, yet I don’t feel regret. I know that I pushed my body too far, took on too many commitments, didn’t look after myself, and as a result ended up hurting my body, but I’m not mad at myself anymore.

As the saying goes, you lay in the bed you make. It’s my own personal learning curve, one that I will never face again, because like the song says, I’m older, and wiser now.

I’m not angry, because I’m too busy being proud of my damn self. Proud that despite how hard my body fell, my spirit didn’t fall with it. Proud that I never stopped trying to pick myself up, and proud that I let myself feel each and every thing. IMG_1851.JPG

Because sometime healing, has not so much to do with a step by step process, rather then letting yourself run the natural course of healing, both emotionally and physically.

One of my main sources of happiness during this time was a perfect little kitten my mum bought for me, about a month after becoming bedridden. She was perfect in every way. She would sit on my heart every morning and help it to slow down. She would plant kisses on my nose and eyebrows.  She would cuddle me at night when I was lonely, and she was there waiting for  me, after every doctors appointment. Her name was Lillipad, and she was my little miracle. IMG_1995.JPG

I didn’t know, when I had there, that my healing would mean the beginning of her sickness, and the end of her little kitty life on earth.

Yet still, I wouldn’t change a thing. She was exactly what I needed, while I had her, and although my heart feels broken, oh man is it still so full.


The truth is, looking back now, acknowledging how lonely this whole life changing events made me feel, the truth of the matter is that I was never alone.

Although I was helpless myself, I was never without support.

Although I was, and sometimes still am heart broken, I was never without love.

Most importantly, although I fell, I stood back up.


I’m proud to announce that I have made it to the other side, and am back to being a functioning young woman again. Although some days are still hard, I will never stop trying. Take a look at my new display photo at the top.


Because I climbed, and conquered my mountain both physically and metaphorically.

I definitely couldn’t have done it without all the support I’ve had, especailly from my parents, family, boyfriend and friends. I can’t thank you all enough, and I can’t wait to see you all outside, because I can make it outside now, finally.

and of course, all glory to God.

Until next time,

~ K x

A Sour Taste 

It’s hard looking back sometimes. You know?
It hurts to remind myself that my body is crippled once again from a sickness I have already over come, a sickness I have already been healed from. I promised myself, once I got better, after putting my health first, and having to leave school that I would never be in this position again. I promised myself that I would never push my body so hard again that it felt as if it had to break. Yet it seems some lessons you have to learn more then once; because here I am in a different room yet I am still confined to it, in a different bed yet I am still glued to it, and in a different time of life yet I am faced with the same choice.

Health, or education? When… 

It was the middle of semester when I become sick again. It’s my second last semester. I started uni early after leaving school and completing other study’s. I’ve worked hard to get where I am, and knowing that I am, or was enroute to graduate six months before other people who had graduated from my year,was my “stick it to the system” you know? For not believing I was sick the first time around, for making me feel alienated, exiled, most of all, for making me feel stupid. I can’t blame the school system entirely, how can you deal with something you don’t know of?

Other then, of course believing that the sick girl who can’t get out of bed, can’t always think; due to the lack of blood going to her brain because her body is failing on her.


Yet, a lesson I’ve had to learn recently, is that you can’t fuel your passion based on someone else’s opinion. As relieving as it would be to still graduate six months early, the school system isn’t going to notice, or quite frankly care, it’s not like they helped me get here.

A lesson I’ve had to learn, quite loudly and without hesitation is that slow, and steady really does win the race.

So here I am, three years later, with the same decision and the same sickness, unwilling to give up, or give in. I’ve had to come to terms with a lot of things recently, but I’ve realized that at the end of my life, it won’t matter if I graduated in June, or November, as long as I took care of my self, and lived life the best way I could. Taking one step at a time, and loving myself, and everyone around me.

To be quite honest with you, I have no clue what is going to happen next.

But I know this;

I am not the illness the rattles inside my body, and I will love myself despite how many times I have to learn the same lesson.

Until next time,


K x 

One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

Last night, when I knew my body now needed to rest, I felt the over coming feeling of my all too familiar chest pains. The kind of pain that resulted in being in hospital, both last time, and the time before that. I felt my body become weak. I felt it freeze up. I felt it all, as I lay there unable to help it all, and I let it happen.


I looked back on the morning I had. I thought back to the first time I have seen the ocean in a month. I thought back to how I was able to sit in the sea breeze with one of my favorite people, and I thought about regretting it, I thought about wishing to take it back, especially now, with my body crumbling like this, in this moment. And I thought about it a little more, and decided I wouldn’t change a thing. I wouldn’t, nor couldn’t exchange the moments my chest got to breath fresh air for a moment without chest pain now. I wouldn’t exchange the many moments of laughter for the few seconds of tears now. I wouldn’t exchange the milestone of being able to go out with a friend (and not see my doctor) for the first time in a long time, even if it meant being set back now.


You see there is a fine line of what you can and can’t do when you are left somewhat unable to function. So you limit things, you limit how long you stand, you limit how long you talk, you limit who you see, and mostly you limit what you do, and where you go.

So on those good days, on those days where you feel as if you can stand a little longer, even if it means walking a little slower, you can talk a little louder, even if it means people are listening, you last a little longer, and for the shortest amount of time, you feel normal again. You feel okay again.

I can’t begin to explain to you what that feels like, to feel normal again after months, weeks, and endless days of feeling as if you are incapacitated.  But just like Cinderella, the clock strikes twelve, the magic wears off, and you have taken one step forward and two steps back.

You end up back in the same bed, feeling as if you did three days ago, before you felt yourself slowly improving. You knock yourself back kid, it happens, but at least you got to laugh, at least you got to smile, at least you got to see the sunshine and breath the fresh air before those moments were taken from you.


Like I said, it’s a fine line between doing what you can, and doing too much. While I’ve always been a firm believe in ‘listening to your body’, granted, I’ve messed up multiples times and henceforth ending up here, sometimes even though your body screams ‘no’, you take that little piece of energy you have, and you walk out that door because every single inch of your heart, of your soul, of you sanity is screaming ‘yes’.

I definitely don’t have it all figured it, and honestly, nor do I expect to, but a few moments of sanity, go a long way for a lonely girl glued to her bed.

Until next time,

I’ve attached a little recording of a song I wrote a few years ago called ‘tired’ take a listen. Please don’t mind the dodgy quality.

K x

A Day In The Life / Invisible Illnesses

To fellow POTSies, this is for you.

“I understand.

It’s starts off slow, one by one you slowly start to notice changes in your self. Less energy, less thinking capacity, more sleep. You slowly start to wonder about your self, but you’re probably just exhausted… despite how much sleep you have gotten recently.

It starts slowly, and then comes all at once.

That’s the thing about invisible illness’s, you never see them coming.

You end up in the emergency room, you’re not overly sure what’s wrong; but every time you stand, you faint and for the life of you, you can’t get your heart to slow down. It aches in your chest, you ache in your bones.

There are lots of questions, and quite usually lack of answers. So you lay there, being poked, prodded and praying for an answer to this misery.

Sometimes, if you really hit the jackpot, you will meet a doctor that knows what POTS is. They will be familiar with the symptoms and recognize them in you, and it will feel so so good to hear them say the name because suddenly it all makes sense. But like I said, this is based off the one and only chance you hit the jack pot.

In other circumstances, you will explain why you’re there over and over. You will tell each and every nurse how awful you feel, what happened and hear yourself ask why. You’ll listen to them as they explain it all again to the next nurse they’re handing over too, or the doctor that has come to see you, and more often then not, they will look just as confused as the one before.

That’s the thing about invisible illnesses, no one ever sees them at all.

So you’ll have tests, you’ll have blood tests, and have several ECG’s at different times, you’ll have echograms and anything and everything that might show an answer. But they never do, and the doctors and nurses stand in front of you, as confused as they were to begin with, which to be noted, is not their fault at all.

They can not know about something, they have never been told. That’s the thing about invisible illness’s, they have to be taught.

So you go about life, as much as you can.

A little differently now though. You quit everything extra in your life, hobbies, gigs, anything that takes away the energy you need.

You stick to what you need. You don’t drop uni because you’re too far through now and you need to finish this.

You haven’t been to class in weeks, you haven’t been anywhere in weeks in fact. You’ve been in bed everyday for the past 15 days in a desperate attempt to finish your assignments from home, knowing full well that your brain isn’t going to cooperate with you for much longer. So you don’t get out of bed on this day either, knowing you need every single piece of energy devoted to thinking, and completing this assignment before the lack of blood going to your brain clouds your judgment.

A few days later, you need to go to class today, it’s compulsory. You made a point of showering the night before to save any extra energy for today. You don’t waste energy on makeup, or anything to make you look more presentable, you put on the clothes closest to you.

You’re not allowed to drive at the moment, so you go through the list of family members who might be able to drive you and ask them kindly.

The walk begins from the car park to your class room. You walk slow, and you wonder what everyone is thinking. Is she lazy? Is she unfit? She’s so slow. So you stand to the edge of every path way and hope no one asks you why.


Each slow step is a desperate attempt to get closer to your destination, and to keep your heart beat at an okay speed. You pray you’re going to make it there, without fainting or feeling your heart run at a million miles an hour.

Ten minutes later you’ve finally made it, but this means you’re late. You watch as everyone stares as you walk in, wondering if they have even seen you in this class before. You walk faster to find a seat because you don’t want everyone staring while you walk slow. You quickly regret that fast walk when you meet your seat because suddenly your head is spinning, your heart beat is thumbing in your ear and you need to be present.

Your name is ticked off the role, and the teacher begins to speak. You try to pay attention to each and every word their saying but you have trouble making sense of it all. It took all you had, just getting here. You then notice everyone doing a task so you try to follow along and look as if you know what you’re doing, when in reality, your brain is now in the clouds and your body aches. But you try, and try for a little while longer because you made an effort to be here today.

Until eventually, your body gives in. You can’t quite stand up properly without loosing your balance so you take it slow, politely tell the teacher you have to go, you will complete the work from home, and beg another member of the family to come get you.

That’s the thing about invisible illnesses, the pain demands to be felt.

The rest of the day feels like torture. Everything is a mission, and a big one at that.

You don’t get out of bed for the rest of the day, and fall asleep knowing that you probably won’t for the next few days.


And you wonder, if it was all worth it. That’s the thing about invisible illnesses.” 


Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome was first recognized as in illness in 1993. In America, POTS is viewed as such a life crippling disease, that service dogs are trained and are available for POTSies to assist with every day actives. Unfortunately, POTS is not so commonly known in Australia, and a lot of professionals are currently unaware of this crippling disease, which sometimes, for patients, can lead to a misdiagnosis, or perhaps no diagnosis at all. My main purpose for writing these blogs, and raising awareness of POTS is to not only minimize the amount of individuals who are falsely diagnosed or not diagnosed at all, to bring it to the attention of health professionals whose careers would benefit from being aware of the existence of POTS, and all that it drags along with it, but mainly to bring it to the attention of everyday individuals of how much POTS, and ANY invisible illnesses can change a person’s life, even if you can’t see it.

*This post was originally written for a university assignment that shed light to what POTS is and what it is like to live with it. For more information about my health journey click here to view my original post. 

** If you are interested in helping me raise awareness for POTS, please do so by sharing these blog posts, or even simply taking the time to read them and share with your loved one your new piece of information for the day. One more person informed, is one person closer to the person walking around undiagnosed, unsure why they are feeling the way they do. So let’s raise awareness, together, because I don’t wish that loneliness or the uncertainty to if anyone believes you that goes along with it, upon anyone.

For further information, check out My Heart Website  and follow ‘Standing Up For Pots’ on Facebook for similar stories, or their website. 

Please message me if there is anything you would like me to clarify or expand on / any questions you may have.


Until next time,





A Revival

I ask myself over and over how I got back here. I am in a different bed, yet I am still glued to it. I am in a different room, but I am still confined to it. Different things surround me, three years changes a lot, but not everything. How, and why did this come back to me?

I wanted so badly to understand. I wanted to face everyone, when they gave me sorrow and sympathy and tell them that I knew exactly why this was happening. I wanted to have some idea. I wanted to know.

I turned to the man I love, and I asked him.

“Why is this happening to me?”

“I’m not sure.” He replied.

“There will a reason though, right? Something good is going to come out of this, won’t it?”

“I believe it will.”

The truth of the matter is, I have no idea what I am in for. Each day is a mystery in itself, and I am left confused on which emotions to act upon, which ones are temporary? Which ones am I honestly feeling? How much longer do you think I will be able to hold it together? Can I admit that I have been so scared? Can I admit that living it all again, but with so much more is not only unbearable but also terrifying?

Like I said, I’d like to be able to face people and tell them why this is happening to me, but I can tell you openly and honestly that I have no freaking idea. Yet again, I’d really like to hope something good is going to come out of it, something life changing, even.

I keep listening to this one song on repeat, because for some reason when I listen to this song, it is the one and only time I let myself cry. I sing the words over and over.

Whenever you’re ready. Whenever you’re ready.

Can we surrender? I surrender.


For me when I hear those words, I feel as if I give myself permission to surrender. I allow in the thought that maybe, just maybe I could let down the wall between what’s happening and how it’s making me feel that I’ve placed up so carefully and strategically. So, when I hear those words, almost all of me wants to surrender the battle of keeping up this charade, and for a moment, I do. I let the wall down, I let myself breath, I let myself cry, and I let myself grieve. Although I know this pain, is only temporary.

Alas, the song finishes and I am swung back into reality where I have to be strong. Where, I should celebrate for the good moments, because when I get them, they are so good. Yes, reality, where I am stuck in bed unable to move for majority of the day, in the bad moments. Yet I am still careful not to break. I like to blame my reasoning for keeping it on together based on what other people would think, how they would realize I am not always as optimistic as I may seen, scared of them seeing how terrified I am. While all this is true, it is also granted that I am so scared that if I fall I may not be able to get back up. If I crack, how will I put myself back together? How will I know how too? But I have done it before, I can do it again.

Falling asleep every night in those hospital rooms, felt so lonely but every moment I was there, I knew I was not alone. Every morning when I would wake up to more tests, and checks, I didn’t doubt that I was alone. Or at night when I was awoken by nightmares that shook me, I didn’t shake on the fact that I wasn’t alone.


I guess my point is, if even in my loneliest moments, when I am being doubted, poked and prodded, I didn’t loose hope, which means I can’t loose hope now. Not now, not ever. I am not sure if I am close to the ending of this chapter, but I know every day I am getting stronger, even if it doesn’t feel like it. Besides, the end is just the beginning of something else, is it not?

I am scared that if I cry, and grieve, people may perceive that I am loosing hope. No, this is not true.

The hope is there, and every time I say “Today I am getting stronger” I am not referring to my body, although each day I rest it, eat day I take care of it, I know that it is, slowly getting stronger again, I can feel it in my bones. Yet, I am referring to my hope. I am referring to the fact that another day gone means another day closer to God, healing me, like I believe He will. Another day of me writing about how I feel, about what happened and what is happening, is making me stronger. Although, my body is weak, I am not, and that is something I can never let go of, that is something I was always hold on too.


I also want to encourage you, for even in your loneliest moments. In your hardest moments, granted life can throw a ton of them, to find the hope in it, because you’re not alone, and you’re going to make it through this.

Until next time,

Say something sweet.



The Raw Truth (M.I.A part 3)

What am I suppose to tell you? What am I suppose to say?

How do I explain that I spent four days in hospital, to end up with this.

How do I equate that four blood test, five ECG’S, three cannulas, an x-ray, an endoscopy, and echogram add up to a lack of results.

While eternally, and overly grateful for the health system,  how do I mention I am still left with nothing to tell you?

Four days, bruised hands, and no longer high in spirits.

I should be grateful. I should be so very pleased because; no news is good news, right? That’s how the saying goes, isn’t it?

I should be over the moon because my heart is okay, structurally, and is that not reason enough to celebrate?

Am I being selfish for wishing that they would have found an explanation?

There is nothing to show as to why my stomach is not processing, so that’s helpful, right?

I know my body can function;

So why isn’t it?


I am left with negative results, and more questions then when I began. How is that even possible?

I guess it all comes back to Dysautnomia; the fact that my body tries to cooperate but physically can’t.

I don’t have much more to tell you, despite the fact that my body does so many things that I can’t quite explain to you, because I can’t quite understand them myself.

So this is me, giving myself permission to not quite get it, permission to be mad, and frustrated as hell. Permission to be completely and honest with you because I can’t continue writing these posts without you knowing everything.

So full disclosure; it’s awful.

But, with every inch of my aching body I know that there is a reason behind this and a purpose for all of this.

In times of sorrow, I choose not to believe that bad things happen to good people, or that the devil had this planned all along. No, I choose to believe there is more to know, more to learn, there is a reason and purpose. God is teaching me, He is guiding me to something that I can’t foresee.

So I walk blindly, and follow Him.

Even though I am at landslide of questions, and a lack of answers. I choose to believe.

In the truth of full disclosure, I do not write these words for sorrow. I do not write them for sympathy, I write them because these are the questions that occupy my mind when my body aches and mind can’t think straight.

So I write, and I write to keep myself sane. And I wouldn’t feel right, writing to you to tell you that I am okay, when the truth is far too valuable to jeopardise.

So full disclosure, full honesty, and full faith that God has healed me before – I don’t doubt that He will do it again.

Although so much of me struggled to write this – fully acknowledging that it is so much easier to write a series of events then it is to write about how it made me feel, I can’t let this go.

Until next time,

Take a listen.

K x