I used to be a person who saw the best in people, who knew that life was inherently good and that all was well that ended well – and if things weren't well, they just hadn't ended yet.

I wrote this after I found out that he wouldn't be prosecuted.

[Excerpt from It Gets Better. Originally written in 2008].

Someone said to me recently that I was at my core a happy person, and I would be again. I really hope that person was right.

I have many, many things to be happy about. Most importantly, I've discovered recently how many good friends I have, people who care about me, people who would care a lot if I wasn't around anymore. When I sent a group text earlier this week with some bad news, it was to over 20 people, family, friends… I never used to have that. And I honestly don't know what I would have done in recent months, and especially in the last week, without those friends.

But I've become so disillusioned I hardly recognise myself. I'm distrustful of people, of their motives, even my good friends. And I don't believe in karma anymore… I've never so much as hurt a fly intentionally, and this comes back to me…? And no-one answers for it? There may be some small oases of happiness and beauty in the world, but essentially, scratch the surface and it's got an ugly core.

I used to be a happy person. And now faking it seems like such an effort, so exhausting.

But being sad all the time, crying, that's exhausting too, and quite frankly I'm boring myself. Seems like I'm stuck between a rock and hard place, can't be happy, can't be sad… And then I just want to scream and kick and cry and cause a scene, but instead I stay quiet and keep it all inside.

You take each day at a time, you surround yourself with good friends, and you remind yourself that you've come this far, you can go just a little further, and a little further, and one day you won't be holding on with your fingertips but standing whole on your feet again…

And it was just a bad film you watched once.

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