09/12/2025
When we were living in Ōamaru,
and the abuse was at its strongest,
I slid into a really dark place.
Everything was upside down.
It was really, truly s**t 💩
And one of the scariest parts
wasn’t even the abuse.
It was my drinking 🫣♥️
Evenings were terrifyingly long
on that isolated farm,
with no support network,
no softness anywhere.
I needed something to pull me
out of being constantly scared.
Wine became that “something.”
It became the only outlet I had 🫠
Not in a cute
Pinot-and-bubble-bath way 🫧 😆
more in a
‘this is my emotional support liquid’ way.
For the best part of three years
out of the five we were abused,
I was hooked on wine
and didn’t even see it at first.
There always had to be wine
in the cupboard. Always.
Half a bottle was easy to smash.
By the end,
I could finish a whole bottle
without blinking ✨
Monday through Sunday!!!
And that terrified me.
I was not this person 😞
I could feel myself losing control,
but I didn’t know how to stop.
I honestly thought I was addicted.
And that added to the constant fear
I was already suffering from 🧡
It wasn’t until I finally
got proper psychiatric help
that things shifted.
Not rushed help.
Not “here’s a random pill, off you go.”
I had a full assessment that took hours, with a doctor who actually listened, understood my trauma,
and built a plan that wasn’t slapdash.
When I was put on the right antidepressants, everything changed.
* thank you ACC for this support! 🥹
Theres no way I could have done it
without my mental injury claim 🙌
The first few weeks were… wonky.
Wobbly.
Like swimming with jelly legs through fog,
and me walking around like a newborn giraffe.
But once the medication settled?
I stopped drinking 🕺
Instantly 🥲
Automatically 🤘
I couldn’t believe it.
Honestly, it felt like witchcraft.
If a cauldron had bubbled in the corner,
I wouldn’t have questioned it 🧙
I had been drowning myself in wine because my brain was screaming for help, not alcohol 🫠🧡
Once the screaming quietened,
the “need” just evaporated.
Mind. Blowing 🤯
And another thing I hadn’t realised
was even a problem: my sleep.
I was convinced wine “knocked me out.”
It didn’t 🤪
It gave me zombie dreams
and 3am electrolyte chugging sessions,
and a hangover that whispered
‘see you tonight, Pixie'! 🧚 🫣
Now, with the right medication,
I fall asleep naturally at 8pm most nights and sleep a full ten hours.
Ten.
Hours.
I could cry with joy just typing that 😭🤩
I slept so well,
I basically woke up in a new dimension 🌟
I didn’t know I wasn’t sleeping
properly for five entire years.
My body was stuck in
fight–flight–freeze,
running on fumes and fear.
Getting proper help gave me back my sleep 😴
It gave me back control 🙋🏼♀️
It gave me back me 🥹
If anything in my story
hits close to home,
please know you don’t have to keep struggling on your own 🧡
Your first step can be as simple as booking an appointment with your GP and saying, “I’m not coping and I need some support.” That one sentence opens the door.
From there, your GP can help with assessments, medication, counselling referrals, or funded mental-health sessions you might qualify for 🤗
If evenings are hard,
if sleep is a mess,
if you’re leaning on wine
more than you want to admit ♥️
you can get help,
and you deserve to feel safe
in your own body again.
Reach out 🙌
It’s not weakness,
it’s wisdom.
Stay sane, stay hydrated, stay safe.
And for the love of all things holy, don’t try to survive hard things alone.
I love you! Anna X
ps - I’m so glad to finally feel safe 🥹♥️🥲
