Well my young padawan’s it has certainly been a long time since I last posted on the blog!. This won’t be as long as the others. I don’t think anyway!. It depends how much I end up remembering. Without further ado lets gets this blog on the road!. (Watch out it cannot drive yet!)

HOW AM I DOING NOW?.

Life has its Ups and downs. Things have changed slightly. I’m older!. Which is a given lol. I also changed my name to Princess Consuela Bananahammock. I married a young man called Crap bag!. (OK that’s all lies I’m still Rose!). My family is dealing with a personal situation that I cannot talk about in detail here. This has caused me anxiety.

On a happier note I finally got my sleeping habits back under a manageable control. Of course, I still cannot sleep at times. It’s not suddenly cured. I still find myself some nights laying awake staring at the ceiling. Many of us have suffered or are suffering from Insomnia. It’s awful and can be really debilitating in our waking lives. It can make work or school so much worse. I was on sleeping tablets in 2015-2016 and they did help me. Don’t be afraid to go speak to your doctor. See if there is anything they can do to help. I myself now use ASMR and yes, I know people find it weird. But it helps me sleep and I am not ashamed to admit I watch it!. I am also not ashamed to say loud and clear. I am a survivor of suicide and I can say four years on. I am still here. Still fighting the fight. If you feel there is no end to your depression no light. I felt that way too!. There were days I could not get out of bed. But I had to because my family did not know about my internal struggle. I know talking is difficult. It still is now for me. But I am slowly getting better. Starting my live videos on Instagram is helping me over one my first of public speaking. It is still slow going. But if you want to see my lives follow me on @DivaDwarf though I may be creating a separate Instagram where I will discuss mental health and post inspirational quotes or just messages from me to all of you. I’ve not decided yet!.

So, I don’t talk about this much. But on Twitter right now I’m targeted and bullied. These bullies are spreading nasty rumors about me. They’ve taken things that were said in arguments and deleted everything they said and did to me. They are now just sharing what I said. So, people are blocking me. Calling me nasty names saying I am someone I’m not. I’m apparently a fake person. Clearly they’ve never seen or heard of Jordan/Katie Price!. I was actually show DM’s they’ve sent about me to people I talk to. In them they are lying saying I am a teen man. The person who is spreading this BS is one of the most toxic people I have ever met. I used to call her my friend until I realised how much of a drama whore she is. If there is no drama at all and everyone is at peace, she starts drama just to get attention. She will then delete everything she did and play victim. She had been known to tweet abuse at me and even DMED me. Then she would tell all her friends everything she was doing to me. But I was doing it to her in her world. They are clearly blind as her account was full of the abuse on show in her tweets. But they believed her and blocked me. She did stop when our mutual friend was sent screenshots of everything, she sent me. I said she can carry on if she wants. But I will out her to everyone because I don’t like bullies. She stopped and now it seems she is back. She has over 60+ accounts on twitter and already I am being blocked by people who’ve known me for years. I am saying this because I know I am not the only one being targeted on Social media as well. But I am here to tell you reading this. You do not have to sit back and take it. You control how you react. You control how it affects you. But if they are getting to the point where you feel like I felt a few days ago. That you would be better off dead. And yes I was told by someone on Twitter today that maybe I should try again and not fail this time because God knows no one will miss you!. Except I KNOW people would miss every single one of us!. I may never get to meet you all. I doubt I will. But you are loved. By your friends by your family and by ME!. I love everyone and wish you all will be happy and well. I will list my contact details at the bottom of this blog. So if you ever need to talk or need someone to listen to I am here!. Always. Well not while I am showering!. My phone says it is waterproof but I think that is taking it too far!.

If you ever feel bullied or that a friend online is being toxic. Never let them drag you to their level. Never let anyone bully you. Always report it to your parents or your friends’ parents. Tell anyone you feel safe telling!. They will help you I can guarantee it. I do have to be real though. The police?. They don’t do anything. They said when I contacted them that Twitter won’t do a thing and they never cooperate. Also remember screenshots are a good help!. Especially if it is girls from your school. If that is the case then report it to the head teacher. If they won’t do anything get your parents involved. My mum got involved when I was being bullied and beaten up and my school sorted out the bullies and they were expelled/suspended. Never be afraid to speak up. Hiding what is happening is the worst thing you can do.

That is all for now, I think. I am in a better place. But some days I do drop into a dark place that I have to remind myself I am strong I can get through this dark period and so can you. Fellow survivors of suicide and people still suffering from depression. Ne really give up never let your pasts define who you are going to become. You are all amazing and have the potential to be great!.

Love from Rose

Twitter: DivaDwarf

Instagram DivaDwarf

Snapchat MissCocoBay (Bet you thought it would be DivaDwarf!)

Hey, it’s me, Batman! Wait! Sorry, I really need to stop giving out those secrets. I could get in big trouble! Anyway, hope you’re all well. This blog won’t be about my depression. Well, I might mention it a little. But the main focus of this blog will be me talking about my childhood and what caused Social Services to take me into foster care. It’s no secret that I am adopted, but people have never heard the reason. I think now is a good time to speak out about it.

(I will be using a different name for my counsellor in case she does not want her name to be known. Will also be using different names for my birth parents)

Why I’m writing this blog: 

During my counselling sessions “Lucy” asked me many questions about my adoptive family which I answered honestly. I spoke a lot about them. But one day she said to me, “I want you to tell me about your birth family, if that is ok?”

I was surprised and I had no idea what to say. So I just went on to say everything I heard from my parents and my sister, who had heard things from her parents that I did not know. We chatted about them for a few sessions. Whenever she would ask me questions about my childhood with my adoptive parents, I could never answer because I have no memories of when I was a child. It was like I was hitting a brick wall. “Lucy” told me that it seemed that my mind had locked the memories away. When I finished counselling I kept thinking about what I had been told. That is why I decided to write this blog. I also chatted about my other brother. My mum adopted him from another family and I love him lots. I love both my brothers. 

What happened for me to be taken away:

When I was born, Daniel already had two boys from a previous relationship (my half brothers). I have never met them. I don’t know much about them. The only thing I know is one of my brothers has brain damage because Daniel and his ex partner beat him up because he would not stop crying. I wish I could meet them both but I doubt it will ever happen. My Mum said it would be hard to track them down and they probably don’t know I exist. After my Dad met Fiona they had my brother. I think at this time they were already known to Social Services. They were not living in a house at this time. I think they were living in a tent. Social Services told them they had to get a house or they would take my brother into care. 

This pushed them into getting a house and they settled down. I don’t know what happened with my brother and why he was removed from their “care, but he was and my Mum and Dad adopted him. I forget what month this was. I was born on 8th April1991and my adoptive Mum and Dad knew I existed. But Social Services decided to give Daniel and Fiona the chance to keep me. Fiona was taken to a mother and baby unit. I think people hoped that this would teach her how to love me. I already know my Dad did not love me. In all those photos I have of them, he never once held me. My Mum said he never held me at all. In one photo i’m stood In front of him and he is staring at me like I’m an alien he has never seen before. But then the next photo shows him holding this fish he caught and other animals he had. It was like he loved the animals more than he loved his own daughter. This still hurts a bit. Even though I don’t remember him, I lived with them until I was 16 months old, so I would’ve been sad at the lack of love. 

What kind of abuse did I suffer from? 

Fiona and Daniel had no idea how to care for a baby. Even the mother and baby unit could not help. When I was 2 weeks old I was being given hot dog sausages and other foods I would not be able to eat. I guess some of you reading this have seen the adverts and TV programmes about babies in China who are left In their cots to cry for days on end without love or affection. Sadly that was what it was like for me. (My Mum told me all this and it made me sad. Not for me, but for other babies that are going through that now)

Ever since I can remember I hated shouting and violence of any kind. It scared me and “Lucy” said that sometimes happens if people are exposed to violence and yelling from a young age. She also said my memories are probably locked away because my mind deemed that time in my life to be traumatic enough to hide the memories, and unfortunately it spread throughout my childhood, even when I was living with my Mum and Dad I have now. Sadly for me the memories of that time might be gone, but subconsciously I still remember and that is why shouting and violence scared me so much. I am better now and I don’t get as scared. But if my family are arguing it brings it back again and I have to hide in my room with music on. 

As you can probably tell I was neglected badly. My parents hated Social Workers always coming to my house, so they would hold me up against the window and tell the social workers I was fine and doing ok. They always checked me over though to be safe and one day when my Social Worker came to see me, Daniel shot him with a harpoon gun. He obviously loved me in his own twisted way that involved attempted murder, but it didn’t involve hugs and the love I actually needed. This caused panic, of course, and though the Social Worker was ok,  Daniel had made threats against his family. For my safety and his I was given a new Social Worker. 

During all this no one seemed to notice how dangerously thin I was. The excuse Daniel and Fiona used was that I did not like eating food and no matter what, they could not get me to eat. This went on until November when I was so ill I had to be rushed to the hospital. 

I was suffering from malnutrition. They tried me on solid food but every time I ate food I would throw up. This was alarming and the doctors thought I was going to die. A decision was made to try me on a drip to see if I would put weight on. They were suspicious already that something was not right. When the drip worked and I was getting healthier, the doctors realised it was not my body rejecting food that made me so poorly and malnourished, it was my parents who had not fed me the food I needed. By that time I had been so close to death the doctors had called the police to report Daniel and Fiona for murder. I was not released from the hospital until February and during that time my parents had visited twice. They said they did not like wasting money on the buses since they would have to get two. I suppose that is more proof how much they loved me…. I am just lucky I made it through and I was taken into care. Now I have a loving family who love me more than they can express. I love them just as much 

How my mum found out I was up for adoption:

My Mum was shopping in Tesco with my brothers. A lady she worked with at the adoption agency started to talk about me. My Mum was surprised I was up for adoption and her friend said she should adopt me. When Mum got home she told my Dad and he said, “Yes, let’s do it. Let’s adopt her.” That is how I ended up being adopted and that is how my parents thought they were adopting a beautiful angel and instead they got me. A little terror with a crazy sense of humour and well, let’s just say I’m not as innocent as I look. My mind is a crazy, sometimes disturbing, place to be. 

Thanks for reading 

Twitter: @DivaDwarf

Instagram: DivaDwarf

Hey, it’s me! Your friendly neighbourhood Spiderman! Oh wait! Sorry, nope, not supposed to give that secret away! I don’t know the identity of Spider-Man. *Looks around shiftily*

Anyway sorry this blog is so late, I think the last time I posted was last year (2016). As you probably guess, this is an updated Update on my struggle with depression. I have waited to write this until now because I wanted to have some positive news to share with you all. 

Luckily it is good news. I’m so much better than I was. Someone recently told me I seemed stronger and more confident. This surprised me. I never notice these changes in myself. But others who have not seen me for a year notice the changes. Even my family do not notice any more. We don’t speak about my suicide attempt. It’s like it is a taboo subject, a bit like in Fawlty Towers: Don’t mention the war! I find this hard sometimes as I do want to talk about it. I feel that speaking out about mental health is important and that people should be made more aware. 

Last year I started toying with an idea. What if I spoke up about it?? Not just online and in blogs, but in person to a room full of people. At that time I was scared, and convinced myself it was a stupid idea and no one would be interested. However this year after I had a chat with a lovely lady called Angela, I decided it was time I did something about it. Hopefully next year, if the Director of of the Diocesan Pilgrimage to Lourdes, France (A pilgrimage I go on every year. This year was my third) says yes, and thinks it is a good idea, I will be speaking out about my struggle with depression in person to people who wish to hear it. I hope to help people who have depression who have either kept it to themselves OR are too scared to ask for help. I do not wish to inspire people, although I have had many people say I have. I just want to be able to help people, no matter who they are. I don’t care what race, religion and sex they are. I will be speaking about, if I may, my friend who is transgender. I will be asking for his permission first. I do not discriminate against anyone. I try love the world and people in it. 

Sometimes it can be hard loving people if they hurt you. I mentioned in my previous blogs about my birth family and how I have forgiven them. This does not mean I want a relationship with them. As far as I know they are two strangers. Yeah, they gave birth to me and heard my first words and saw me walk, but they also neglected me, hurt me, put me in hospital for 5 months and visited me twice. My parents I have now made sure I was fed, clothed and loved. They would make sure I had food and water. They loved me more than life itself. When I fell, they were there to pick me up and hug me if I was hurt. When I fell off a wall In Year Three (before school even started) and smashed my head on the floor, my Dad rushed to the school to take me to the hospital, because I could’ve had a pretty bad concussion. I didn’t, I just had a pretty nasty gash on my head. But still they made sure I was ok.

Then when I was in hospital when I was 18 with appendicitis, my Mum made sure I did my GCSE exam before taking me to the doctor’s surgery and then home to have a shower, so I looked pretty for the doctors at the hospital. My parents visited me every day I was in hospital (3 days)  They made sure to tell me about all the food they had eaten those days because I was not allowed to eat any food until after my surgery (Thanks Mum and Dad). I always remember my Mum climbing into the hospital bed because she was tired and knew I was scared. We both had a good laugh when we were finally collected, only to be told it should’ve been a man. I bet those doctors were relieved we found it funny and did not sue them! But to me I was relieved. I was scared the surgery would go wrong. When it was my turn, I asked the nurse to put the needle in my arm AFTER I went to sleep. She did, which was sweet. 

My Mum and Dad told me that the morphine would make me tired and after I woke up I would be quiet and far too sleepy to talk. But when I woke up I was chatting all the way to the ward. My Mum’s face was hilarious. I think she thought I would be quiet for once. Shame she did not remember it was me she was talking about! Nothing can shut me up unless you pay me with chocolate! Actually just feed me chocolate for the rest of my life and I will be happy. Very fat but happy!. 

Now I know telling people can be daunting and scary. Sometimes people will not understand or they will leave and never talk to you again. If this happens  it just shows that those people were not meant to be In your life forever. They are temporary. Like those tattoos kids get that rub off. I lost a person because of my depressions. Not many people know this, not even my family. I was dating a young man called Luke and we were going to go “official” with our relationship. However I believe you cannot base a relationship on secrets and lies. So I told him everything that happened with me, my depression and my suicide attempt. We were skyping at the time and he said to me, “I don’t want to deal with that, I don’t want to have to deal with it. You tried to kill yourself, so what is stopping you doing it if we have an argument??” I was so angry and pissed off with him. The main reason was that he assumed that if we argued I would kill myself. When I tried to kill myself before it was not because of a damn argument. It was because I had decided that the world would be better off with me dead. I felt so numb and disconnected to everything. It felt like I was in a dark pit and the walls were impossible to climb up. Even when I did manage to climb up, something would always knock me back down. He was still talking to me but I had zoned out. When I became aware of my surroundings the last thing I heard him say was, “We cannot be together. I don’t want to love someone who can be so selfish.” I am reluctant to add my reply to him, but I will do. It took me a few seconds to actually work out what to say without swearing at him. I managed to say, 

(Swearing in this part. Skip it if you do not like swearing.)

“You fucking wanker, you think I’m being selfish??. Well what you just said was the biggest load of bullshit I have ever heard. If you’re gonna be a fucking twat then I’m glad I’m rid of you.”

(End swearing)

We blocked each other and have not heard from each other since. However before I blocked him on snapchat I sent him one last picture of me flipping him off. It was satisfying though what he had said obviously hurt. I was not going to let him get to me. If he can only handle me at my best then he does not deserve to be in my life. It still does hurt sometimes. While in Lourdes I visited a lake with many others and a song that was being sung reminded me what he did to me.

‘If you cannot find the light, I will sit in the dark with you’, that is a quote I saw recently and i will do that for anyone who needs me. No matter if you are having a good or bad day. I will always be available. 

Right now life is going well and I really, really hope it stays this way for me. I might be tired and grumpy at times. But I’m still random and silly deep down. You just need to wait out the grumpiness. 

If anyone is struggling with life and needs someone to talk to, contact me I will always reply and I will try help to the best of my abilities.

Last quote before I go swinging around the streets… I mean go to bed, I’m not Spiderman remember!!. 

All you need is Hope and Strength: Hope that things will eventually get better, and strength to hold on until they do. Never forget that. 

Twitter: @DivaDwarf

Instagram: DivaDwarf

Hey guys, it’s me again. I haven’t blogged for awhile. Hope you haven’t missed me to0 much!! I know you all love me really. I may be random and rather silly. But deep down I’m still random and silly. 😉

My other blog seemed to go down well. People liked it. So I thought I should write another one and let you all know how life has been since that day. I strongly recommend you read my other blog. That one deals with my struggle with depression. Anyway, for you guys who have read my blog: next week I will be slowly coming off my anti depressants, which is a daunting prospect for me. Doctor Malone said I have to take one every other day for two weeks, then I can stop taking them. This terrifies me. I know there is a chance I will just relapse back to the way I was. I never want to go back there. The feeling of being lost with no one to turn to was horrible. I have a loving family. That did not stop me feeling hopeless and lonely. It just intensified it.

I know some people have said I’m such an inspiration. i’m not an inspiration to anyone. I am writing my blogs to try help others in my situation. I don’t do it to inspire anyone. I do it to try save someone. I know it is hard. But if I can at least help one person I will be happy.

Many people have suffered from depression. Many people die because of suicide. I don’t know the figures. But I’m just one of the few that survived. Recently I have found myself crying for no reason, just like before. But I think I’m just more emotional and thinking about what happened hurts. I re-read my blog earlier and I was laughing and crying. I miss my Nana everyday. I found some birthday cards from her earlier. I still have a pen she gave me. It does not work anyway but it’s still special. The memories keep me going. My grandad died I was 7 so I don’t remember him much. I actually don’t have many memories of my childhood. I do try but I think when I was little my memories got locked away. You see, as most of you may know from my other blog, I was abused but I was 16 months old so not old enough to remember. I think I still have the feelings though. Whenever anyone is violent or screams and shouts I become scared. It’s like my subconscious remembers the days when my birth parents would get mad. That is what my counsellor said. She wanted me to talk about my birth family. She said usually people who come from abusive backgrounds have emotional problems. In a way I think I do. But I forgave them a long time ago. Holding on to negative feelings does nothing but cause you more pain than it deserves.

I hope to speak out about my experience one day but for now I want to concentrate on finding inner peace and finding a way to overcome my own issues.

Twitter: @DivaDwarf

Instagram: @DivaDwarf

I’m not really sure how to even start this. I think it would be best to introduce myself for the benefit of people who don’t know me. I’m Rose, age 24 from Halifax in the United Kingdom.

For the past 3-4 years I have been suffering from depression. When I was 16 my mum became very ill with a disease called MRSA.  There is a longer name for it, but I’m not even going to attempt to spell it. This happened during my GCSE year. I knew my mum was very ill. People don’t get rushed to hospital in an ambulance for no reason. My dad had mentioned the name MRSA when I was in the room. This caused me to google it. Which was a mistake, as it shocked me how severe it was. Luckily she was well enough to come out of hospital for Christmas Day. She went back in a few days after.

She was in a wheel chair for a year. Every day I would accompany her to her physiotherapy. A doctor told me my mum would never get better –  not fully. Eventually she would need to have an operation on her knee. Now years later she is able to walk. Her knee stills gives her trouble but she manages. I help as much as I can.

This worried me. I did not speak to anyone about it. I wish this was the end of the troubles. However my nana disappeared when I was 14. She turned up 3 years later married to a man none of my family trusted. I knew he was hurting my nana. He attacked my cousin and I had to protect my then-baby cousin from him. The next time we saw him I was asked to stay in the car with my young cousin (not saying his name since he is still a minor). I could hear yelling and screaming and it scared me.

6 months later Nana decided to leave the bastard. This was on a Friday. I came home from school and my dad was there but not mum. He explained that my mum, nana, and aunty were in the protective custody  of the police. Jack was out to get Nana. My brothers and I had  to have police officers watching us at all times. I did not know this until later. Jack had made threats towards me and my brothers. He would come around to the house while I was alone and try to terrorise and scare me. It backfired on him when I called the police.

My nana eventually got a house in Halifax. No one but my aunties, myself and my family knew where she was. One day I went with my mum to see her and she was acting strangely. Her bedroom door was shut which it never was. We were all supposed to go out but she refused. We left then and I now wish I had opened the bedroom door. Jack was in there – I hate the bastard. When my nana had a stroke he stole all her money because she was too confused to realise what he was doing.

My Auntie Sue (really just my mum’s friend) died of cancer, as did my mum’s friend Gail. My Uncle David had lung cancer and he passed away. This year my Auntie Elsie died at age 98,  a good age. I never left her house without telling her 5 times I did not have a boyfriend. Her favourite story to tell was when my nana was heavily pregnant with my mum she and Auntie Elsie had taken a ride in a donkey cart. Unfortunately it tipped over and the poor donkey was dangling in the air. We heard this story many times every visit. Being bedridden she would always cry “Don’t sit on me!!” when my mum sat on the end of the bed.

I have some things I cannot go into detail about. But my brother got into trouble with the police and he was arrested. That was three years ago now. It all finally ended in July of this year. This stress caused my dad to have a stroke. After he got better he was then diagnosed with skin cancer. Luckily he is well now and the cancer is gone.

While all this was going on I was feeling isolated and that nothing would go right. I myself sufferered from a very bad debt and I had to pay it off. This caused a lot of stress.At this time I started to feel suicidal. I think this was 2 years ago. I thought life was going well and it was for  a while. All good things come to an end and this appeared when my nana had a heart attack ,pneumonia a month later and to top it all off she had a giant stroke. The paramedics said we should come and say goodbye. She was in Blackburn Hospital. My mum was In Halifax. I called her but she could not come pick me up so I could go see her. Auntie Catherine said there was no time. She did not have long. She survived though she looked very ill.

She made us all giggle though so many happy memories. My happiest is when she set her napkin on fire in a restaurant and it nearly set the table alight. She tried to blame me and my mum. Another time she made me laugh was when she was in hospital. I had just walked onto the ward she was on with my mum and we saw a blue sheet run past us. it took me a few Seconds to realise it was Nana!! She had a hospital gown on trying to make a bid for freedom. she always tried to get me to sneak her out, but I never did.

The best times though were when she would try to kiss the young men liking after her. For a 90 year old she sure did like the men!! I remember waking up on my birthday (8th April) .The phone had just rung and I knew something was wrong. My auntie had been called by the ones who were caring for Nana. I sat and waited on the bed. The phone rang again and I heard words I never wanted to hear. My auntie said “She’s died.” I cannot explain how I felt. Only numbness. My mum and dad hugged me and I cried so much. My brother made a joke trying to lighten the tension. He said “Well, she never thought much of rose.” Made me smoke weakly as we did argue a lot. but I miss her so much.

I went to France (Lourdes) and it was so calm and quiet. It was like everything that had happened to me was not important. I spoke to people and they encouraged me to go to a doctor, which I did on 15th July. I was diagnosed with depression. This was no surprise to me. Not many people knew. But I had wanted to kill myself so many times.

I felt suicidal mostly after I had been attacked online by a girl who I will not name. Miss Abbington was so nice asking how I was. Then this girl started to attack other people when I talked to celebrities I followed. I always felt like people blamed me for what happened. I was shocked when Miss Abbington asked how I was. What she does not know is I had planned to kill myself that day. Her tweet actually made me smile. Someone who did not know me cared enough to reach out to me. Every tweet and DM after that reminded me why I was carrying on. – because people cared.

Many people helped me but then a group of people who were my friends started to have a go at me saying the bullying was my fault. They even tried to push me into saying I was not being bullied. Which is bullshit and I contacted the police about the bullying.  Abbi is another person who helped me. Autmn helped by just talking to me. There are many others who have helped.

On August 4th everything got too much. I had attempted to call people but no one was picking up. I had told my mum a long time ago how I felt and she said I had no right to be suicidal. I think she thought I was joking. But I wasn’t and on 4th August I went to work as normal. I tried to act normal and not like people would never see me alive again. My first stop was to a chemist. I bought a packet of 32 tablets. The cashier ironically was telling me to be careful because I could take an overdose accidentally. She had no idea that I was buying them for that exact reason. My second stop was a small corner shop to get a bottle of water. While I sat on the bus I hoped no one saw me or my face. I was convinced they would see me and realise what I had planned. My last stop was McDonalds.

I chose there because it had quiet bathrooms. Eventually I took out the tablets and slowly started to take them. I was going to take them all but I only managed 19 and a half. One half fell onto the floor and I started to be sick. A lady found me and realised what I had done. An ambulance was called and I was rushed to hospital.

I’m writing this blog today because i hope people read it . Because i want people to know what happened with me was because I had been too scared to tell anyone how I felt. My mum and dad  had enough to deal with. I thought I could deal with it alone. I went to the doctor alone when I got my diagnosis. I would have died alone in that McDonalds bathroom. But it was not my time to die. It is never time to die. So I thought it was the end of the world for me and that nothing would ever get better. I’m glad I am alive and I want to stay alive for a long time.  If you cannot speak to anyone else or you’re too scared please contact the Samaritans or talk to someone you can trust. if you have no one you can always message me on Twitter

Twitter @DivaDwarf

Instagram: DivaDwarf