2019 Blog Stats So Far

Jesus, 19,000 views in a year and a half. I feel great. Almost 10,000 visitors. I am truly honored. It seems that my words travel a lot more than I do. Hopefully, they take you, my reader, to many different places.

482 posts is so much. It’s a lot of work but it was done with love 💘. I don’t feel like I wrote that much but it seems like I did, while struggling with depression, agoraphobia and BPD. Truly an accomplishment for a new blogger. Even if I only had 100 views, I would be happy. But this feels truly amazing.

So, this year, I wrote 107 posts. They received 271 comments and 2,223 likes. I wrote 52k words ( whoa). An average of 491.2 words per post. I love writing long posts. I sometimes ramble a little, that’s just how I am.

Looking at these stats only makes me want to do more and more. Keep writing, creating. It takes the strength of every fiber of my being to write sometimes. I delete lots of posts because I fail to finish them but I always write at least a post every week. That’s the secret. Pushing through and talking from your heart. Some people will relate, others won’t. Just keep saying what happens to you or your wishes, fear, whatever comes to mind but should be said.

I had a blog on Blogspot many years ago. It was a poetry blog. Only in 2017 did I start writing on this blog. And, boy, what a journey. I’ve cried, I’ve laughed. I’ve received kind comments. I’ve received a million spam messages, that WordPress filters so well. I have received praise and conpliments. People could relate and shared their stories with me. I read their stories in their blogs, we bonded. We all shared a dream: to write. It didn’t matter if we were good, great or mediocre. We tried and tried again. Our poems evolved, our journal became more intricate. We grew together, learning from one another.

When you have a mental illness, you can feel alone and disenfranchised. There can be periods of solitude and pain. There will be moments of contentment within our solitude. We will experience it all. And in those painful moments, we know we can post here. In the best and brightest moments we can write an ode to happiness. I’ve been sad but it this sadness has been highly creative. I feel like it opened and closed me. I remain open and closed. Spirit open, heart closed. Heart closed for maintenance, while my spirit flies. I grow spiritually and strengthen myself. It’s all I need. And while I heal, I write. I share my journey, my thoughts, anything I find useful.

I will go back to do more in-depth articles about mental health, as I used to do. I miss it and I think the blog needs. There’s a better chance of my spreading my word through organic Google search results. One of my articles BPD and FP(favorite person) has 1800 hits in a year, an average of 8 a day. Imagine if I keep writing articles about things that are widely discussed and others that aren’t, how much the blog can grow.

Thank you so much for reading and interacting with my blog.

Small introduction to SEO and why it matters

Stats of my blog
Stats of my blog

After a year of blogging and researching blogging, I’ve come to the conclusion that I have made some mistakes. Not many pictures on my posts, not the best structure at times, some grammar mistakes. But I think that it was a good year overall. I’m persisting and persevering. Writing doesn’t always come easy but I try to do it as much as possible; practicing is very important. There are days when I cannot write; on other days when I feel like writing and I write several posts. It would be interesting to know why this is. At least I have the discipline to continue to write regularly.


I have 594 followers and an average of 1000 views a month. It’s something that I’m proud of. There are some search engine views, which is extremely important. Maybe my SEO isn’t that bad. If you’re new or fairly new to blogging, you may not know about SEO. This is an acronym for Search Engine Optimization

SEO) is the process of affecting the online visibility of a website or a web page in a web search engine‘s unpaid results—often referred to as “natural”, “organic“, or “earned” results. In general, the earlier (or higher ranked on the search results page), and more frequently a website appears in the search results list, the more visitors it will receive from the search engine’s users;

Source: Wikipedia

There are things you can do to improve your SEO. Many people talk about it and there are courses, blogs and videos about it. It’s something that changes, as the algorithm changes. It’s important to be informed of what you can do.

You want to have views that came from search engines. Either you are thinking or not thinking of monetizing your blog, it’s important to reach people, if we want to share a message or raise awareness to issues; for people who look to monetize their blog, it’s crucial.From the title of your post, to the images, the tags; everything must be done in an intelligent way.

I would love to share some articles with you but I can’t copy links now, for some reason. Later this week, I will write a follow up post.

Image by Goumbik, courtesy of Pixabay.

I’m changing my blog’s name to Scarlett’s Corner

At my mother’s request, I changed my the name of my blog. From now on, it’s going to be called Scarlett’s Corner. She is worried about stigma and I understand where she’s coming from. Mothers, in general, always try to protect their offspring. I’m so glad I have her in my life, she is one of my biggest cheerleaders. It was clear to me that it made her uncomfortable and I will accommodate her wishes.

In the past, I have been so rebellious and contrarian so changing my blog’s name seems to be a minor thing. I’ve made her suffer so much that, changing the name of my blog is just a drop in an ocean. But I’m willing to concede in order to make her happy. I just want her to be happy and comfortable.

I’m going to continue to write in the same style and being as open as possible (while remaining anonymous). I will still write about BPD, from time to time, but it won’t be my focus. It was affecting my mental health, I was almost obsessed with BPD and knowing more. With BPD on my blog title, I felt like I had to talk about it frequently. I’m not repressing a part of me or ashamed of my diagnosis; it’s just that I want to forget about it more, be more oblivious; but mindful of it when I have issues.

There’s still a long way for me to be free of symptoms, I am aware of that. Some behaviors are not unlearned easily but I’m hopeful. I feel that it is possible to beat this and lead a life that is as normal as possible.

I’m hoping that my followers won’t get mad at me and unfollow my blog because of this. Mental health will continue to be important to me and writing about it will be as therapeutic as ever.

What do you think about it?

Comment below and let me know.

Image by pixel2013, courtesy of Pixabay.

Wonderful Monday

Today I went outside. I felt like walking with a friend. I actually felt good walking, can you imagine? It was good, stretching my legs, toning my body. I felt excited and in a great mood.I stopped eating sugar and switched to agave. I don’t know if that is why I’m having more energy. I’m just happy to have some!

My friend and I went to a few shops: he bought a beanie and I bought myrrh incense. It’s my favorite scent right now.We walked to a Café with tables outside. The view was beautiful: we could see the river and Lisbon. Ferries on the river, taking people home or to work. I saw movement and life. People, things, animals. I felt like one of them. I sensed that that’s where I belong.

I’m going to try to leave the house every day. Tomorrow I have to because it’s my boyfriend’s day off (happiest day of the week!). I want to walk again and be outside. I know I can get used to it.

I’m not giving up until I have a fulfilling life. I have had a job, a house and an independent life, I managed it as well as I could and made it work. I know I can do it again.I just need a little more time to adjust.

Feeling excited and happy is like a breath of fresh air. Yesterday, I was feeling so down and numb. I couldn’t feel anything. Just when I wrote. Almost everything else was frustrating and boring. That’s also how I felt: frustrated and boring. I sometimes feel like I’m a boring person. I know my medication has an effect on my personality. At least, until you have been taking it for a while. I think because my psychotic episode was almost two years ago, I’m starting to feel more like myself. The one that was always cracking jokes and having fun, talking and laughing. That was me. Though one good thing that depression gave me was the ability to be quieter. Now, I listen more and talk less but the jokes are still there. That’s how I cope. Jokes, irony, and sarcasm.

Image by Pexels, courtesy of Pixabay.

A fine day in my world

Today is a fine day. I don’t have to go out.
It’s just a quiet Saturday at home. The familiar sounds are soothing. I hear the buses outside and the train. I can hear cars and people. A remembrance that I’m not alone, though I am apart from them.
This separation is important for now. I need to be alone but I am not lonely. The words and sentences are my company. My expression is an escape from the mundane. I have my music and my coffee. My faithful laptop that was given to me by a good friend. I have all that I need for a good and productive night. It can’t all be leisure, I must work on this blog. I take it very seriously like my life depended on it. There’s an urgency in me to write, a need to understand and make sense of things. Art complements life. Without art, life would be incomplete. How would we express our emotions, thoughts, fears and everything that makes us human?
One of my friends called me. He told me he was in Lisbon and he was explaining what was going on there. I felt like he was calling from a distant land that is inaccessible to me. Right now, I’m definitely in a distant place. Every step outside is a struggle. Let’s forget about that today. I can’t be ruminating on the things I can’t do all the time. I will appreciate what I can do. I can write, I can read. I can have coffee and tea. I can listen to music. I can smoke. I can do some research on my issues. I can talk to friends. I will be able to do much more, I just know it. It’s only a matter of time.

Image by Free-Photos, courtesy of Pixabay.

Why I write when I’m feeling down

I don’t like to write when I’m upset but I need to. My writing becomes dark and sad.

I feel all emotions at once. I’m overwhelmed by uncomfortable feelings. Despair, sadness, hopelessness, frustration wash over me.

Feelings are like waves, they come and go. I allow myself to feel and accept them. They will be gone soon.

I want to write beautiful things and inspire people but I can’t inspire anyone when I’m feeling down and uninspired. I can see that’s not the point, either. Maybe what I write can make people, who are also down, feel less lonely and less misunderstood.

Venting helps and writing it down is a great way to feel better. At least I expressed my feelings of discomfort. At least I made an effort to write, despite all the negative feelings.

When I’m down and I write, there’s a voice in my head telling me that I’m a terrible writer and that no one will want to read what I write. I feel no pleasure writing but I feel relieved, so I do it.

I recommend writing as a form of therapy, especially when you’re down. Writing helps you to rationalize your feelings and think more clearly.

My motto used to be “to write until it stops to hurt” (escrever até parar de doer). I will write until it stops hurting and beyond that.

Image by raedon, courtesy of Pixabay.

A frustrating day

Today was a frustrating day. I had two appointments and I missed both of them. I asked to be woken up and they forgot. One of the appointments was with my psychologist. I shouldn’t have missed it, I really need it. I need urgent help, this is unbearable. I wanted this day to be a different day. I wanted it to be a day where I did what I had to do. Alas, it was not.

Just another day inside, more frustration and more despair. I won’t see my psychologist this week, as the week ends tomorrow.

I feel frustrated, hopeless and numb. I feel like someone is blocking my path and that someone is me. I need someone to guide me in this darkness. I don’t know what to do and that is unsettling. I have to wait, once more. But I’m so tired of waiting.

I took a shower and that helped me a bit. I feel better but I still feel sad.

I need to go outside and I don’t want to. Same old story.

When will this end?

It has been so long since I went out “normally”. It feels like it was a lifetime ago.

I see upcoming events on Facebook and I feel like going but not really. I could see me going if I was teleported there and then back. The way to the places is the problem But no, once again, I am the problem. My conditions do not help and I feel weak for not being able to overcome this. I’m trying as hard as I can.

Image by Ponciano, courtesy of Pixabay.

Gloomy day

My day started gloomily. Clouds in the sky and fear of going outside.

I had to go to the medical center to take my anti-psychotic shot. I asked a friend to go with me but I’m starting to feel like a burden. I try to think it through but I can’t find the reason why I don’t like to go out alone. I don’t have panic attacks outside but I feel extremely uncomfortable.

My friends get frustrated because I never want to go with them to anywhere. Only to coffee shops near my house. It is frustrating to be my friend, partner, and family member.That is probably why so many people have given up on me.

I would like to say to my friends that when they insist that I stay outside for a while, that I feel pressured and I get blocked. When people start to be insistent, I feel this urgent need to escape and go home. I don’t know why I do this but I do.

I’m truly sorry for my behavior, I also get frustrated with myself.

I think that many years of self-destructive and risky behavior left a scar on me. I now need to feel absolutely safe, in order to feel alright. I hope this goes away soon or that I find coping mechanisms.

I have found that listening to music helps, wearing headphones and going outside. You get distracted by the music. Anytime I have to go out alone, I take my headphones, my phone and listen to some music. I would love to hear about the coping mechanisms that you use.

Thank you for reading this.

Image by Mareefe, courtesy of Pixabay.

How I started writing

I remember when I started writing, I must have been about 7 years old. My Mother got me a diary for my birthday. My first entry was about my birthday and the gifts I received. It was a pink diary, with a princess on the cover and a lock. I would write every day, detailing my life and my relationships. As I was being bullied by my best friends, I documented it there. Writing became a necessity, a way of venting and sharing things I didn’t want to share with my parents or friends. I don’t think I’ll ever read it again. At least for now, I will not.

I had other diaries, that I also choose to not read. In fact, I don’t like to read things I wrote many years ago. Trauma made my memory fuzzy and I think that it serves a very good purpose. I feel more comfortable not remembering much of my past.

Then I started writing stories and poems. My pink diaries became camel Moleskine. I like to read my older poems. They are raw and full of emotion. Rhymes and sentences just formed in my head when I was younger. They would pop in my head and I had to write it. It was a stream of words, sentences, and ideas that flowed beautifully. All my pain and sorrow. All my overwhelming feelings and thoughts. The paper was their home. Every word came from my mind but sometimes it didn’t feel like it. I think some of it comes from the heart, the mind uses that raw emotion, that crude material and works on it.

Writing was my life until 2010. Then words stopped magically appearing in my mind. I had a very strong case of writer’s block. I just couldn’t write and it was heartbreaking. I missed writing but I couldn’t bring myself to write. I wasn’t reading either. I needed to rest my mind, that’s how I see it. Writing can be difficult and painful when you are taking a lot of medication. The mind doesn’t work as well.

In the beginning of this month, I started writing again. Words don’t esoterically appear in my mind. I just have ideas that I would like to explore. It doesn’t come as easy as it used to but I believe that, with work and dedication, I can feel completely comfortable writing again. Until then, I’m pushing myself but in a good way. I know that if I start becoming more active, mentally and physically, that things will start to fall into place. Writing takes work and a lot of reading. That’s what I’m focusing on right now.

Image by SofiLayla, courtesy of Pixabay.

Making sense of things

Good morning, dear reader. I made a post about how I was bullied. Now, I would like to talk about how that influenced me.

I never felt like I belong in that group, I was completely invalidated by them.

I think that has shaped me. All throughout my life I’ve been rejected by people, mostly friends. I only started to feel like I belonged in a group when I was in 8th grade but my best friend at the time, Sandra, ended up rejecting me because of a boy. It was in high school that I really felt I belonged. My friends loved me and really cared. I started to heal from my childhood trauma and I trusted them with my life. Then my life started falling apart, I started becoming another person. Someone who was unstable, unreliable. They started to pull away. I only started to notice towards the end of our friendship. I noticed that they started to invite me to hang out less and less. Once, I met one of my close friends and told her that I would like to hang out with the group more. She said okay but a few days later and no calls from her or them, I went to the coffee shop where we used to hang out and saw them there. It started to hit me but I couldn’t really see it. It hurt too much.

The breaking point came in a sunny afternoon in June. My friend who lived in Spain came home for the holidays and she invited me to have coffee with a few other friends because it was her birthday. One of the people that were there was Sandra. She had become friends with my friends and she still hated my guts.

People started giving her gifts and one of the gifts was a ticket for a concert. They all had tickets for the concert and it was sold out. So I left. I was heartbroken. How could they forget about me? I messaged one of my friends and she didn’t reply. I, then, talked to another friend on facebook and she told me that it wasn’t planned. When I replied, she didn’t answer. I felt enraged, bitter and out of control. I blocked all of them on social media.

I was devastated and overwhelmed by negative thoughts. It was like I had fallen into a bottomless pit, I just felt like I was continually being sucked into a hole. I started digging the hole myself, smoking more and more hash. In the morning, I would wake up crying when I realized I was no longer friends with them.

I became a shut-in. I had major depression along with BPD ( borderline personality disorder). I became scared of living and paranoid. I had a psychotic episode that year, following that situation. What kept me from being committed was my boyfriend. He knew how much I had suffered in psych wards, so he told my parents he would take care of me and he did. He was wonderful, he would try to reason with me in a loving and compassionate way. He would make me feel understood, loved and almost “normal”. He is part of my healing process, a big part. It is my first stable relationship and the first man that really respects me. I can never thank him enough for what he has done for me.

Thank you for reading this.

Image by Anemone123, courtesy of Pixabay.