The truth about Lola's life

The truth about who I am. I'm not the girl you see on screen. That's just a part of me. Sometimes that part is non existent. I used to be bubbly, confident and independent. That was until my buried traumas caught up with me unexpectedly. I started 2018, the same way I did every year. Scared and paranoid that bad things were going to happen. Little did I know, those bad things were around the corner and they were here to stay. 

March 2018, most won't remember much about it except maybe Beast from the East, that massive snow storm and blizzard. For me, it was the month things changed forever and I still don't understand it myself. I was getting ready for a photoshoot with my friends, I was about ready to go when suddenly and I mean suddenly I felt really ill. Unable to move off the floor without everything spinning or going dark. That luckily passed but more followed. Headaches, paranoia, delusions, psychotic symptoms over nothing at all. My world shut down, I couldn't do anything I did beforehand. No travelling, no college (it was rare it let me) no public transport, no leaving the house unless to my family. My brain started driving me into the ground, the harder I fought, the harder it would push me. I missed out on many things: ending college, having friends, my modelling, family events, I couldn't apologise enough. I still can't apologise enough. 

Every time I tried to defy the wiring in the brain, it would send me hysterical which often leads down a psychotic path. I never really had a full psychotic episode that I know of. Time just happened to slip away and so did memories. There's a lot of blank patches. So I'm sorry if I have no memory of places we went, I wish I could remember.

It got worse from there. The first set of anti-depressants. The first psychotic episode, it started with me puking nothing up for 2 nights in a row, paranoia, delusions then onto hallucinations. I don't even think I was conscious at times as I remember hitting my pillow every few minutes than repeated a vicious cycle while seeing a coat that changed colour and a tornado coming for me. It was very rough for a while. Meds actually worked on/off for nearly 4 years. I did have the odd episode during that period. Mainly while travelling. I still couldn't go anywhere. Never left the north east. Couldn't even go to Newcastle or Durham. I was mostly euphoric in that time, almost every day but my anger levels and recklessness were mad. I walked around on cloud 9 like I was invincible. Nothing could hurt me and I went after arguments for fun to fuel my ego. It would out of control vanity.

Around October 2021, things stopped. All the bad symptoms returned. February 2022, things crashed and burned to the point I could hardly leave my house or do my job. I was gone. I fell apart. Withdrawal for 3 weeks. Clean. New meds, sick to the point I couldn't stand. Withdrawal again. Another med. They wouldn't work by November. Thoughts that weren't my own manifested and they were out of my control. 

Full on psychotic episode. The thoughts took over to the point I had no control or sanity, it wanted death. Withdrawal again. More and more episodes happened. 

Tried to manifest my own thoughts but I was powerless in comparison to the demon. New meds again. This time similar to the original. Nothing working. Doors closed in my face. No help. Being told I'm just autistic and that it's autistic. It's definitely not. 2 psychotic episodes at least a week. In between delusions, paranoia and being triggered by anything and everything. I'm guessing they relate to my past but either way, it's painful. I wake up every day having no idea who I am or what will happen. It's torture. Some days I could be loving life and full of ambition (euphoria) the next day psychotic or depressed.

I literally have no personality, I go with the flow and have often stole my personality from fictional characters I kind of relate to. Now I look in the mirror and have no clue who I am. I'll wear wigs in hopes I can find an identity. It hasn't worked.

People think my life is glamorous, that I'm somehow rich or that I have a lifestyle. The truth is that I am very lucky if I get a day where I'm not suffering. A lot of people make assumptions about my writing work. I am doing projects to occupy my mind, it doesn't work a lot as it brings on delusions but it sometimes works enough.

This is my continuing story in raw detail. I want people to know that I am human and that my instagram feed is a work of art to keep me entertained. It doesn't reflect my lifestyle, just the fun times I was allowed in the struggle. 

Thank you for reading xox Lola