A Head Full of Beauty

Presenting Problem: Ophelia presented with symptoms of severe depression and severe levels of anxiety (as indicated by scores of 22 on the PHQ 9 and 17 on the GAD7 respectively). Ophelia told me that she is obsessed with her weight and how she looks. Ophelia explained that she will restrict her food for a few days, and then will eat a lot and vomit afterwards. Ophelia said that this is having an impact on her studies, and she won't go out to lectures if she is feeling particularly bad about her appearance. Risk Issues: Ophelia said that she often has thoughts of suicide, but said that she would never act on those thoughts. Ophelia also explained that she does self-harm about once a fortnight. She told me that these cuts are fairly superficial, and she has never needed medical treatment for them. Treatment Plan: Ophelia and I agreed that I would refer her for a further assessment with one of our high intensity therapists. In the meantime, I have sent Ophelia some self-help materials...

Water. No calories. In the right mind set it is extraordinarily filling. I'm drowning in it. Drowning is the glamorous way to go don't you know. I think I made that up. I want to thank you all for all your comments. You are the best support system a girl could ask for and I am so incredibly grateful. You have to forgive me for my lack of posting and commenting recently. I come on here everyday, numerous times a day, to read all your posts - I don't know why I can't write. I think sometimes it's because I feel so... unworthy? I will make up for it! This blog is the only place in the world where I don't have to lie. I lie to everyone else: my friends, my mum, my university lecturers. I even lie to strangers. Except I don't call it lying, I call it 'hiding the truth'. But why do I feel the need to hide the truth? It's simple, I don't want to hurt my mum, I don't want be labelled a freak, I don't want to be misunderstood, I don't wa...

I really miss James. There, I said it. He was one of the few people that knew about me. He was one of the few people I could tell. Well, it's lost now, what can I do... it taught me never to tell people. It makes me very sad in a way, because I know I could never have a good relationship that worked with a guy. I'd make him so miserable. I feel incredibly sorry for any man that would truly love me, for I would just treat him like crap and push him out of my life. The truth is, I don't think I could live with anyone. I love being able to come back to my flat, take off my restrictive clothing, wash off all the makeup and remove all the pins from my hair and just be myself as I am naturally. I do love that... but only so long as nobody can see me. There is no way that I would ever let any guy that I was dating see me in such a state - so how on earth could I live with them, or even marry them! The idea is horrifying to me. What I really don't get is a guy that would love ...