“Down, down, down. Would the fall never come to an end!”

– Lewis carroll

Lets take the first stop on this crazy wonderful ride. Valentine’s Day. Oh ye ole’ Valentine’s day. The day of love. NAW, CUTENESS…is it? Hmm, I think not, actually. 

What’s made me get a bee in my bonnet about Valentines day? People getting made to feel like s**t that they’re alone. WHY?! Why does there have to be a day where couples come together to prove to each other how much they love one-another? Its fu**ing ludicrous. I’ve been in the same relationship for a decade, and married for two of those years. Do we celebrate Valentine’s day? Hell no! Why would we? My husband knows I love him, I know he loves me. I don’t need a day to prove it.

It’s a day for prepubescents and lovesick teenagers to stuff their faces with heart shaped chocolates and receive plush toys. Side note: those HUGE f***ing A1 sized cards? Do you remember those? Jeebus! No thank you sir, I’ll pass.

Sorry, back to the point. I don’t like how it’s another day in this already lonely world that people are made to feel even more sh***y about themselves. For what? You open a whole storage unit filled with personal hatred, self consciousness and confusion, all because we’re lead to believe Valentine’s day is a thing TO BE celebrated. 

The sad thing is, that’s only the half of it. Love… Well s***t on a brick. Isn’t it the most wonderful, yet sh**iest thing?  Don’t know about you, but I believe everything positive and negative stems from some sort of form of love. It’s potent, dangerous… in all the positive AND negative ways. Love makes you put yourself on the line, makes you give a part of yourself over to the person (or thing) you’re passionate about and love with all your being. Sometimes it ends in bliss, a state of never feeling the pits of loneliness anymore….

But I’m not here to talk about all the positive stuff – do you not know me enough yet? maybe one day I’ll be all mushy, mushy… not today.  Love can be agonising, torturous and sometimes life-threatening. This topic can go down many avenues; I’m not much into politics so you can leave now if you think I’m about to start blabbering on about all that s**t.

I’m talking about the kind of love that is all-consuming; the type of love that turns you into someone you’re not. A crazed little devil version of yourself. I’ve been there. I’m not embarrassed to admit it (#learning curve). So this is where my “F**K VALENTINES” series is stemmed from. It’s gory, sickening, revolting… and sad. Take a look, try to relate to the pain and desperation. Can you feel it? Can you relate to it? I could once.

Think before you shove your version of love in someone’s face; it’s not the same for everyone.

Instagram – dilyioladesigns.

My wonderland.

“Why, sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.” 

– Lewis Carroll.

Lets take a new path into the magical world of my fu**ed up and wonderful mind, shall we? I’ve given Anxiety too much of a spotlight on this blog. She doesn’t deserve it, so let’s take her down a few pegs for a while.

Lets get into the crazy, wonderful, colourful and sometimes dark world of my artwork. I know you may have read that sentence and thought, “Well, s**t a brick, this is going to be f***ing boring”; hmmm…, perhaps? Depends on what you find boring. I’m not going to sit here and make you feel like you’re in an educational setting, telling you all the ins and outs of how to create art, how art became a thing, and who the greatest artists so far in this world’s existence are. 

Nahhhhhhh, I’m going to delve into why I personally do what I do. The dark, the horror and negative drawings, to the sunshine and rainbows s**t… the latter being very rare. You guys like gore s**t way more than the “standard stuff” you crazy little hellions (you know who you are)! Anyway, let’s get this show on the road, shall we?

Why did I start art? Well, *rubs hands together* you know in films when you see a huge meteor coming to earth at a crazy speed, and all civilisation can see the burning ball of fire in the sky? To me, that ball of destruction and devastation was my teenage emotional trauma. How do you deter the destruction of everything you know? Well, that depends on the fictional scenario doesn’t it? Mine? I capture parts of the s**t ball (bad description) bit by bit and defuse it with art. Every part of the fiery mass contains a few emotions that are too powerful to explain in words, so drawing them… a breath of fresh air, easier to swallow, easier to understand and, in turn, easier to make other people understand. That’s if they can capture the correct emotions you’ve portrayed in your artwork. For instance, the illustrations for my Anxiety blogs. See where I’m going with this?

What I’ve noticed with my artwork, since drawing the gore and mental illness awareness pieces…drawing “standard” portraits is fu**ing harrrrd. You know how people always joke about artists being all “dark and brooding” HEYYY YO, I guess I fall into that stereotype. Hey, I’m not mad about it! I think some of my best work comes out when I’m all dark and brooding… HAHA, that terminology is ridiculous. Making up “happy drawings” is hard, because it isn’t how my brain is wired. Now, I know that sounds negative, and pitiful… but thats just who I am. I’m wired to be this way; I’m certainly not going to apologise for it. Yes, that makes me a grumpy, instantly pessimistic and so-in-touch-with-my-emotions, that sometimes I can be more of a curse-than-a-blessing person… but, I believe I wouldn’t be as good an artist or friend if I was different. Plus, if people cant handle me this way, then *middle finger*.

I relate to emotions more than anything; I work better when there’s a strong feeling behind the subject. I want people to have an emotional response to my work, as well as enjoying the art visually. Sometimes it’s so hard to feel something; sometimes you need to check into your emotions (whether it is willing or unwilling). So when people see my gore work and say, “F**k Dily, this is horrible!”,  I fu**ing LOVE it! I’m making you FEEL something! You may not like it, but I got you to feel something, didn’t I. You’re welcome, brain receptors. Daily workout is done for the day, sir. 

So welcome to the reasoning behind my crazy series of sickening portraits. It’s a rollercoaster ride, I will tell you that. So strap in tight, hold on for your life and enjoy the ride! 

Moving forward with the shadow of Anxiety.

“I’m not strange, weird, off, nor crazy, my reality is just different from yours.” 

– Lewis Carroll.

28th May 2019.

I believe that everyone has a box in their head where all the nightmares are stored, filled to the brim with past experiences or just horrific things your imagination has conjured up. My rule was to not, under any circumstances, let that box open. You will live… but to regret it; it’ll torture and torment you. Thats what I thought, before today.

Today I had my induction to therapy. I knew I was going to have to wrap my fingers around the lid of that box and rip it open, let all the nightmares and horror stories of my past fly out and whisper my secrets into a stranger’s ears. I thought by doing that, it was going to cause a ripple effect of pain, hurt and disgust throughout my body, but I was wrong.

Letting out your pain to someone who doesn’t know you, can’t judge or belittle you, is one of the most freeing things I have ever done in my life. I honestly wish I had done it sooner. I’m not saying it was nice – of course it wasn’t. Replaying the list of reasons as to why your brain turns into goop, reliving memories and darkness from your past and present – that in itself is never going to be easy. However, what thing worth having comes easily? I don’t know how everyone else feels, but I’m more than happy to break myself a little more to get myself back. It’s worth it.

I learnt a lot in that conversation. I learnt that although I feel like I’m stuck in the deepest ditch and sometimes feel unable to climb back out, I am, in fact, so much closer to reaching the surface than I thought I was. It also opened my eyes and gave me the push to change parts of my life that need changing. The main one being something extremely important, that completely shapes you day in and day out.

My ongoing story of friendships is sadly a sordid one in a lot of ways. At the present time in my life, anyway. I’m sitting here, with metaphorical cuts all over my back from past friendships. People who I trusted, who have turned around and stuck blades deep into my skin. They’ve left marks that never go away, and burn with betrayal from their actions. Cut by cut, the tears and pain, they’ve torn away bits of the trust I have left to give. 

Do I care that those people hurt me? Yeah. Honestly, I’m pissed I allowed people into my life who must have not known me at all, or not cared enough about me, to then go and hurt me without a second thought. I allowed them to find a way in. I let down my guard. 

However, I’m not sad they’re gone. Those people who I thought were colourful, wonderful and full of light, were in fact black and white, dreary and dark and not worth one piece of my time. 

My anxiety had stemmed from friendships. Mostly the bad and poisonous ones – people who accuse you of being something you’re not because they don’t possess the ability to trust in their friends the way that they should, especially after knowing you for such an extensive amount of time. Getting called names because they believe you’re not worthy of being a good friend, or have woken up one day deciding they don’t think you’re worth it anymore. Thats tough and lonely, and just damn well soul crushing.

Anxiety found the tiny parts of my heart and my soul old friends threw away and trampled on. She gathered up all the broken pieces, sewed them together then made a counterfeit invitation into my head. Somewhere she isn’t wanted, and doesn’t belong. 

One of the fundamentals of friendships is support. Good friends support each other, no matter what the problem. Which leads to another reason anxiety is a grade A D**kwaffle – added onto the never ending list of her f***ery. This is that you can catch her like a cold, and anything that can be caught that can take a toll on your body is NOT good. 

You can be a hero, you can support your friends day in and day out, but it does, and will, take a toll on you. My anxiety has always been underlying, it’s no one’s fault I am where I am today. However, pulling back a little from other people’s problems – not to mention that trigger inducing cesspool, social media – can really help you start to heal.

True friendships are rare. You find the people who stand out amongst the crowd. They shine brighter, hold you up when you’re breaking, they love you through all your flaws, help you through the toughest times in your life. You’re lucky to have people like that beside you, fighting alongside you. They’re my soldiers in arms. They’re all I need. They’re my extended family.

My war against, that Bitc….I mean, witch – Anxiety.

“I can’t explain myself, I’m afraid, Sir. Because I’m not myself you see” 

– Lewis Carroll.

Let’s carry on the sordid tale of the battle against the repugnant parasite that’s turning my brain into my nemesis, shall we? 

6th May 2019.

I managed to pull out Anxiety’s sharp nails from my spine. I was able to close my eyes and not be transported into the darkest parts of my imagination. I thought I had banished the douche canoe out my body… no such luck. Naivety can be such a little wench sometimes.
As the evening came around, sitting in bed relaxing, I had a tingle up my spine. It was then I knew I was being pushed into a way worse and scarier place than I’ve ever been before. 

“Thought you got rid of me Dily? Haha, you naive little girl. Now I will really show you the suffering I can cause, little pathetic puppet of mine.”

And show me, she did.My eyes clouded over and I was surrounded by darkness. I felt like I was suffocating; my heart rate was uncontrollable, my voice was stuck in my throat. I couldn’t let enough air into my lungs to regulate my breathing. I lay down in bed and closed my eyes hoping that I could just relax if I just let go – she’ll get bored of you if you don’t react. 

Just let go…

Just let go…

Pressure in my brain, pressure behind my eyes. Anxiety has released insects into my head. She’s toying with me. Close your eyes, it’ll pass…

Images of being in a hospital bed came to view, an out of body experience, if you will. I look down and see wires coming out of my arms and I’m crying. I’m all alone, I’m going crazy — no, I am crazy — in this hospital bed. 


New images of car accidents. My family distraught and crying. “If only she could’ve pulled over in time before she passed out at the wheel.” 


My clouded eyes became clearer, yet my body started to not feel right. Sickness. WHY CANT YOU JUST LEAVE ME BE!! Anxiety has a way to trick my body into believing that if I’m sick, I can make her disappear, but that isn’t the case. She’s always there, readying her tools of tourture and torment. 

7th May 2019


I’ve had enough of this demon sucking out the life from me. I can’t live this way. I can’t wait the three days till the appointment at the doctors. Three days is too long, I need to see someone now. I walked into the doctors surgery covering my tired and tear-filled eyes from the world with sunglasses. I broke down to the doctor, saying I need to get control. I can’t not have control and I will do anything to get me through this. I need my armour fixed and I need the weapons to destroy this witch. I’m out for blood, I’m ready for war.

I was starting to loose weight from the sickness, and it was starting to worry me how quickly the weight was dropping off my frame. To stop the sickness and deter the symptoms the b**** was bleeding into my body. I was prescribed beta blockers.I was on the beta blockers for two days, I started meditating and doing regular breathing techniques throughout the day, and it helped. I made progress. I’m stronger, I’m in control, I’m not your toy. I’m mine and mine alone.

21st May 2019

I can feel my heart beating at a steady pace. I can hear the world moving on around me. The sound of the clock, tick, tick, ticking as the minutes and hours go by. I’m safe.Ever since the day I readied my armour and weapons in my head and body to go to war with her f***ery, she’s stayed away. I know she’s there, lurking in the shadows. She’s waiting for me to let my guard down, but that won’t happen. She’s taken me down her maze of personalised darkness and despair, and I’m never venturing down it again.

Anxiety is dangerous, she’s a venomous snake, but a cowardous one at that. She won’t bite you if you’re not scared of her presence, and I’m not, not anymore. But ohhhh, I’m furious. I’m sitting typing this after reading over my writing from the start of this whole ugly state of mind, and I’m FURIOUS. Silver linings are a curious thing; its funny how, if you’re willing to look hard enough, they’re even situated within some of the hardest times in your life. Thank you Anxiety, you vindictive piece of s***, my glistening bright silver (no GOLD) lining is I know what I need to fix in my head. I’m not scared to get help because I don’t ever want to experience you rearing your ugly head ever again. 

I love my life, I love my family and I love myself enough to not let you take control of me. So I’m going to therapy, I’m hashing out all the good bad and ugly parts in my life to take away your weapons, and I’m going to rip you apart, piece by piece. I only wish you could feel the amount of pain and sadness you’ve bestowed upon me, but oh, am I looking forward to destroying you!

That bi***… I mean, witch – Anxiety

“You’re entirely bonkers, but I’ll tell you a secret. All the best people are”

– Lewis Carroll.

Today I’m tackling a tough subject. You already know what it is from my beautifully worded title. Maybe they can make a wordsmith out of me yet. So I’m posting this after the events of this dreadful day, but I wanted to make sure I wrote on the day so you could capture my wrath and… well, I guess feelings?…feelings? BLURGR. 
Enjoy my babbling, and trying my hardest to not swear the whole way through (which was fu***** difficult), which I’m very proud of myself for accomplishing.

1st May 2019.

Today I  woke up feeling great. Excited to see my mum and sisters for brunch in the sunshine. Little did I know the wicked witch of arseholery was going to creep up on me and dig her spindly nails into my spine to control me like a little puppet. 

The thing I’ve come to realise about Anxiety, from talking to lots of friends who also suffer under the hands of this insufferable gargoyle, is that her talents lie with how she makes you feel like you’re dying. From making you feel like your chest is going to incave, to making you feel like you’ve just been sucked into a vortex where you can’t escape. 

What is the personal nightmare the witch has bestowed upon me? Not being able to breathe, blurred vision, a numb spine (which causes me to walk like a newborn deer) and the most fun of them all, if she’s feeling extra devious, is sickness. Sounds like a jolly old time doesn’t it? You jealous? If you are I’ll hand it right over, free of charge because I’m nice like that.

Now, I’m pretty new to the all-consuming Anxiety, so I don’t know the tips and tricks to battle it yet. However, I do know I don’t want to live this way. So I’ve reached out for help, which was a huge thing for me to do. I’ve always (I mean ALWAYS) been the type of person to sort out my problems by myself, but this time…I feel helpless.

I’ve been through stuff in my life to earn me my armour, as everyone has. My armour is impenetrable (bar a few soft spots, of course) …or, well it was. I feel like a failure to be taken down so easily by Anxiety, but I guess if it was easy to win the battle, then it wouldn’t be classed as a mental illness would it. 

  • Saying that, when did this repulsive witch even rise from the depths of hell? I mean, sure, it probably always has been lurking in the shadows. Maybe when I was younger I was ignorant to its looming over peoples’ heads (get back to the point Dily). 

Anyway, I’m one terrified, worrisome person. Talking about my worries and fears etc is terrifying to me. Almost as though if I say them out loud enough they’ll come true (remember that Bloody Mary game? Yeah), that’ll truly break me. How funny, I said before (if you read my first blog) that I’m not broken…feels like I spoke too soon… ANYWAY negative Nelly.

I know there’s a lot of people out there who aren’t at a point where they want to seek help from a doctor, or whoever I will be going to. So, I will share my pathway to the killing of this (word that isn’t a swearword…word that isn’t a swearword…) sensor please! *beeping* *beep* *beep* haha, couldn’t do it.

Anyway, If you’re interested, keep an eye out for updates on my battle. I’m going in ready for a war, and I won’t stop until I win!

My world.

“Every adventure requires a first step.”

– Lewis Carroll.

Full disclosure – I have an idea in my head of how I want this first blog post to go but, in true Dily fashion, I will probably – no, definitely – go off on a complete tangent; but guess what? I’m dragging you along for the ride. I know, exciting right? You’re so lucky!

The best way to fully understand the posts in the future is to start from the beginning, right? So lets start there. Everyone has stories; most people call them memories, but stories are so much nicer. Lets bring back a little innocence to this scary world, shall we? 

These stories shape you into the person you are today, and after each story you’ll never be the same. This is okay though. In fact it’s fantastic! Who wants to go through life being stuck in a recurring cycle where you can’t grow as a person? I sure don’t. Now, these stories can bring you pain, happiness and even love (wink face, and if you say you don’t like a bit of romance, you’re lying). 

Anyway… right here, right now, I hereby declare that I am going to open some of my books up to you. “Why?” you ask. Hmm… good question! 

See, there’s actually a little bit of self-healing intertwined within this whole blog. I’m not saying that I’m broken and I need to be fixed. But I’m not ignorant to the fact that I do struggle handling my emotions, amongst other things, which go hand in hand with that witch – Anxiety – What a kill joy, am I right?

The other reason I’ve decided to do this is to also help others. Not enough people speak out or get heard when they’re struggling (and everyone struggles).That said, I’m not sitting here typing away on this tiny keyboard pretending to know what everyone feels. This blog is going to be full of my feelings, my opinions, my life and my everything — and if that helps people along the way, then… well, that would be amazing!

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