Happiful April 2021

true story
My monsters and me: how a love of
horror helped me face my demons
Katie spent much of her life feeling as though she didn’t fit anywhere. Years
of bullying, loneliness, and anxiety eventually led her to self-harm and
suicide attempts. However, it was in the dark world of monsters and horror
that she found comfort, an understanding of herself, and a place to belong
Writing | Katie Evans
Have you found that place where you
feel you truly belong? That sense of
warmth, joy, and relief? Well for me, it
was Halloween. As a therapist, I feel I
should be talking about something more spiritual
or tranquil, but it was, and still is, Halloween.
You might ask why this corny event should
mean so much to a 35-year-old woman from
Liverpool, but the reason is quite simple.
Halloween is a place for the misfits to belong.
I have always felt like a misfit, either because
I hated the way I looked, or because as an only
child I didn’t develop the best social skills. I
struggled to make friends, and was painfully
shy. Everybody else seemed to manage in the
world, but for me it felt like a nightmare. I was
lonely and sad, and by the time I was in my midteens
the depression and desire to die seemed
inescapable.
I had a pretty normal upbringing. I lived with
my parents in a quiet area on the outskirts of
Liverpool. I was close to my grandparents, had
some friends, and enjoyed trips away and playing
outside. I attended a small primary school and
started to do pretty well, despite my shyness. It
was towards the end of primary school that the
bullying started, a theme that would stay with
me, in different forms, until my 20s. In high
school it only got worse.
I was a lanky teenager who hit puberty late. I
had bad skin, needed glasses in class, and at one
point had a head brace to rectify my overbite. I
looked in the mirror and hated who I was. I tried
everything to fix my looks, and I fantasised about
being somebody – anybody – else. In reality, I was
an average looking girl, but in my head, I was a
monster.
I didn’t have the tools to control any of this, or to
manage the huge feelings that I was experiencing.
So much was building up inside me, and the
medication that was supposed to help only seemed
to make things worse. When I was around 15, I
began self-harming. I don’t think it was a cry for
help, because I didn’t want anyone to see. But I
knew that I needed something. I wanted the pain
to go away, I needed to find relief of some kind.
I clearly remember sitting in the garden with my
parents on a sunny day, and telling them that my
life felt like a prison sentence, and I wanted to be
free. It was not long after that I took an overdose; I
still feel tremendous guilt about that day.
My later teens saw me start to discover and
embrace counterculture. I had one big passion
that had been with me since childhood; monsters.
The first picture of me from Halloween is at
around 18 months old, clinging to a mask and
smiling. From then on, I threw myself fully into
everything spooky. >>>
happiful.com | April 2021 | 95