Hannah Shucksmith

+1 on that. I had the 2011 version for all of a minute until I decided to reinstall '09. It's such complete and utter wank.

Om nom nom nom nom.

Have you googled the little code thing it gives you? That always sorts me out.

Last night's dream was blaaaady weird. It started off with myself and two younger sisters in a house in Liverpool. My mum, stepdad and a few other random people were in the garden of this house and an alarm sounded; it was identical to the alarms that were sounded during WW2 when there was a bomb scare. My mum screamed "Hide! They're bombing!" My sisters and I hid under the stairs and I have no idea where my parents were at this time. From the cupboard under the stairs you could see through a tiny window. There were planes overhead all dropping bombs with tiny lights attached, meaning that I could almost judge their distance. One fell from the skies and I knew it would hit us. I said "I love you" to both of my sisters as the sound of an exploding bomb rang in my ears. Everything went black. We're suddenly in my stepdads car, my youngest sister is sat in the drivers seat, I'm in the passenger's and my other sister is sat in the back. The car starts moving at an incredible speed and I know we're going to die unless we brake. I'm screaming to my sister "THE BRAKES! ABBIE, PUT THE BRAKES ON!" She's laughing and saying "But it's fun, it's fun!" We're speeding along the edges of cliffs, long, winding roads that scream death in your face. She somehow manages to keep the car on the road and we survive as the finally applies the brakes. Again, everything goes black. I'm on wasteland now, alone and it's getting dark. There's a relitively dilapidated house surrounded by scaffolding stood in the middle of this land. I realise there's a fence around the area, one similar to a those that surround an outdoors basketball pitch. I take my coat off an hang it up on a loose piece of fencing and walk towards the house. I knock on the door and Jeremy Clarkson opens the door. "Come in Hannah," he says. I precariously walk through the door and it's dark inside, only a flickering light from another room is keeping the house partially lit. He offers me a Crunch Corner to which I accept and walk to a fridge. I open it to find it's filled with yoghurts and I pick a Haribo's Fried Egg and vanilla yoghurt one. I follow Jeremy into the lit room to find James May sat next to a small fire in the centre of the room. Nothing is said until the building starts to creak and the wooden beams supporting it from the inside fall and snap. Jeremy and I free ourselves before the house collapses, only to leave a screaming James inside. The dust settles and we pull James from the rubble. He's missing both his legs although he isn't crying, screaming or appearing to be in any pain of the sort. We call for an air ambulance to collect James and he is flown away. Then I woke up.

Yeaaaaaaah.

Sweeeet.

I'ma catch up with you on MSN Craig, fankwoo.

You beat me to it.

Screw you and your senior memberness

Hannah Rose Shucksmith likes this.

I've known since I was very young I've had depression and anxiety. I find having the label stuck on me quite relieving as I can tell myself that I'm not just sad and I'm not just being stupid. I'm being referred to a mental health team where I should be assigned a psychotherapist - obviously it's just nicer to talk to people who can relate to experiences and feelings instead of being dictated to from books and lectures. I do a lot of meditation when I get the chance to and I do find it helps indeed, along with doodling and generally escaping from reality.

Thanks Ali I know what you mean about thinking only good for the future - I've been trying to live by the law of attraction for a while now. I've been depressed on and off since I was around 9 but it's always felt remarkably different to how it is at the moment. I suppose it's just good to talk sometimes; that's one of my problems I think, I tend to bottle up everything until I just explode like I am right now, ha!

I would first off like to make a point of saying that I am not looking for sympathy or attention and I am aware this probably isn't the best place to ask. I've recently been diagnosed with both severe depression and anxiety. I know there has been a similar topic quite recently although I'm not sure who posted it and the search function isn't being too helpful. I read that a fair few people on the forum do or previously have suffered with depression and / or anxiety and I'd really like to talk to a few people about how to handle it and generally cope. I've had a gander around the internet and the only forums I can find in relation to both illnesses appear to cater for a vast range of mental disorders or problems. I don't mind talking over PM or through MSN (as found on my profile).

Heh. I wonder how many people looked at this topic and thought "I, BEING A GRAMMAR NAZI, SEEING HE IS LITERATE, ONE REP VOTE THIS MEMBER SHALL RECEIVE."

Right now I do not doubt it.

Nope

I had quite an odd dream last night. Everyone was dressed in tudor-esque fashion and there were hundreds of people all in a big manor on the edge of the sea. We heard cannons from outside and I looked out of the window to see an armada of old ships approaching. There were army members in the room, and they all started to grab muskets from cupboards. One man in a uniform, with a rather obvious moustache flung open the main door to the house and screamed "They're here!" With that, the army members lined up and marched outside. All I can remember was the ladies of the room gathering children and holding them tight - they were crying and some were even vomitting. I had no one to hold and I was stood still until a lady put her hand on my shoulder and told me "Hide." I lifted up floorboards and tried to fit into empty spaces in an attempt to escape from whatever was happening as the previously approaching boats had docked on the bay and unfamiliar men trod up the hill towards army. I managed to hide behind an old red curtain that hung behind the manors' main door. I can remember thinking now that if I hid behind that curtain, when the door was opened people would be looking straight ahead and I would be hidden behind both door and curtain. A deathly silence was cast over the manor and if I had not have seen the other ladies, mothers and children hide I would be none the wiser of their presence. I could hear my heart beating in my ears, my breath against the thick and musty smelling material. There was shouting was the outside, heavy footed steps appeared to be walking closer towards where I was standing now. The manor door swung open and another man in uniform walked inside. He spat to his left and I noticed a band around his arm that must have represented his country. He bellowed: "No one is here, they have escaped!" I thought it remarkably odd as surely a non-British man would not be speaking the English language without an accent. He turned to walk out of the door and as he did his eyes met mine through the curtain. He knew I was there and his hand slipped around and touched my arm. I flinched and he flung back the curtain. I begged him not to take me, I tried to reason and he said "I need to return with a victory." I fell to my knees and I said "I'm pregnant, please, please don't take me." (Note: I'm not pregnant.) He put his nose to mine and said, "I do not care. They will not spare you, and they will spare no one." He had me by my right arm, dragging me as I screamed and pleaded to the edge of the cliff face. He stood what I would imagine to be a metre or so from my face and he drew a gun. I heard the shot as he pulled the trigger and saw a bullet scream towards me. My eyes crossed as it met my head and then I woke up.

I think I draw differently depending on my mood. I tend to realise I draw different little scribbles. When I'm feeling down, angry or confused I recognise that I'll only do a black ink doodle and I'll tend to use a lot of arrows and stars - generally lots of little things that all compile to make one big mess. When I'm happier my doodles are more structured and colouful. I used the 0.3mm Staedtler Triplus Fineliners on the colourful one.

I know how you feel! How do you think when you draw? Is it preconcieved or do you just decide to pick up an instrument and get going?

Some proper bangin' stuff going on there Max!

Do we no longer have the ability to see if a member has edited their post, or am I going crazy? I've noticed some people have made their posts to say things along the lines of "Oops, meant to say..." or "Edit:...", and there is no little box to state if the post has been edited. I'm not really that bothered about it haha, it's just been irritating me for a few days. See I'm editing this bit right now. IT SAYS EDITED ON MY POST BUT NO ONE ELSES BLAAAAH

I preffered the first. Almost seems to portray happiness over a dull and meaningless scribble.

I barely 'draw' anymore. I'm bored and so I thought I'd reincarnate this thread: I don't do anything as intricate as I used to sooooo... Meh.

How did I forget?

Was pretty shit in the beginning but things picked up early 2010. Got my first proper job (although I don't have it anymore!), obtained my CBT, started college and got some voluntary work lined up for next year