BECOMING ME INTRODUCTION This zine was created by participants on the YoungMinds Writers Programme 2025. ABOUT THE YOUNGMINDS WRITERS PROGRAMME The YoungMinds Writers Programme is a year-long opportunity for young people to use their voices and experiences to create change around mental health. We first came together online in January 2025 as a group of strangers from across the UK. Over twelve sessions, we’ve grown into a supportive and creative community of storytellers, learning from one another and finding new ways to share our truths. ABOUT THIS ZINE The title of this zine is ‘Becoming Me’. This title was chosen because identity isn’t fixed – it’s something we grow into, shape, question, lose and rediscover. It’s a journey made up of memories, mistakes, joy, and everything in between. Each piece in this zine captures a part of that journey. Whether it’s about grief, healing, friendship, culture, recovery or self-acceptance, these are honest stories about what it means to be figuring yourself out. Wherever you are on your own path, we hope this zine reminds you that becoming yourself doesn’t have to look one particular way, and that you are never alone in the process. youngminds.org.uk/write-for-youngminds CONTENTS PAGE Mary-Anne - Mould 4 Pippa - bite your tongue; bleed 6 Sam - A donkey called Steve 8 Rain - Labels 10 Rachel - Changes 12 Amy - Starting over 14 Help and support 16 Share your feedback 18 TRIGGER WARNING The pieces in this zine include personal reflections on mental health challenges including anxiety, depression, suicidal thoughts, and self-harm. They also cover themes such as substance use, relationship breakdowns, grief, isolation, religious identity, and experiences of ableism. Please take care while reading. You can pause at any time, skip anything that feels too much, or come back to it when you’re ready. If you need support, please turn to page 16 for people and organisations you can contact. MOULD by Mary-Anne About the writer: Recently, I've tried to find solace in 'sticking out'. The more I write, the more I realise how alien I feel. I scan over my old poems and realise that the pain of being 'different' still opens old wounds and leaves fresh scars. But writing helps me cope with feelings I would rather ignore. What used to be an annoying, mandatory task in school has given me the freedom to be myself. Strangely, I feel like the place where I most belong isn't with family or friends but in the curve of every letter and the gap between each line. It's in those places where I can let down my guard and pause the performance I put on to feel and look human. On a page in my journal or a space in my notes app, I am me. My Instagram is @maryannemain I collapse into moulds shaped nothing like my outline. I chip away at my authenticity so that I can fit into a space I was never meant to fill. The thought of my sins whispering through my scars gnaws at my sanity, so I veil the roadmap I use to trace the way back to myself- the layer I’ve come to accept as a second skin- with cotton and polyester. I veil who I truly am and wrap my truth in silence, since I’ve grown to shrink myself into nothing. But nothing is heavy. At times, the weight of my insignificance mounts on my shoulders. When I clasp my hands in prayer and am met with nothing but the still silence of my room and the faithlessness I foolishly pass off as being devout Or when I catch their glances in between the pauses in my speech and feel my figure melting under their conversation- spoken in a language that won’t ever graze the tip of my tongue. But I try. I’ve spent the entirety of my adolescence searching for the code to unlock the fortress lying between myself and normalcy. I’ve tried and failed to get a taste of average. The same way I’ve failed, time and time again, to fight my way into a mould that was built for everyone else but me. BITE YOUR TONGUE; BLEED by Pippa About the writer: I grew up in the sleepy haze of the South Welsh valleys. I grew up with stories and soot. I grew up and fell into the warm embrace of my grave. Writing helps me come to terms with that. A catharsis. A comfort. Bite Your Tongues, Bleed is a piece that came about as a way of compartmentalising my return to normalcy after my cancer journey. My home: Blaenau Gwent has swallowed up a fair few folk. Their cells turned against them just like mine dared to do. Only, I was lucky enough to make it out still kicking and screaming. But sometimes, I don't feel lucky. Sometimes I just feel angry. This poem is an ode to my home that cradled me close, sang me lullabies and tried to devour me whole. Oh my sweet valley, you should've tried harder. Find me on Instagram @Philm.Phobia A poem by Pippa Kendrick bite your tongues; bleed. Something strange is happening here. These valleys are dying and we are dying with them. Can’t you see it? It’s in the shuttered shops, It’s in the religion trapped behind locked gates. This rot, the disease, You can’t feel it? It will make itself known to you; sooner or later. A sweet shivering caress down the length of your spine, Or a suckerpunch; your softness curling around its puckered fist. It’s there in the death of the old gods. Stuck beneath the fingernails of the old miners, like the soot that refuses to be washed away with bygone eras. It’s in the kids with cancer, it’s taken three of the dwts Since last year. I grew up here. In these sunken curves of earth. Raised in the cradled hands of Gaia. They’ll tell you these hills have eyes. They’re wrong. What these hills really have are teeth. They’ll swallow you whole one day, If you’re lucky. Or, maybe they’ll just chew you up and spit you back out Like the rest of us. A DONKEY CALLED STEVE by Sam About the writer: My name is Sam Sheppey (he/him). I am a 24-year-old whose main writing experience comes in sports journalism. My journey into personal writing began at the start of 2023, when I started journaling my thoughts to help make sense of a challenging time. Through journaling, I have discovered a voice separate from sports writing to help me document moments that have changed my life. I now feel ready to share my story, not only to help others but also to take pride in my identity. Upon my return from Tenerife and her return from Cyprus, I was excited to exchange presents. I had bought a dress and eco-friendly bottle from a clothes shop, and in return, I was given a figure donkey called Steve- a last-minute present from the airport. Although small in size, Steve represents something far bigger than me and him. He symbolises the bond I had with the person who gave the figure to me. I remember looking into his bright blue eyes, knowing he represented a growing imbalance- the beginning of the end of what was the most impactful bond in my life. Steve the donkey is a relic of my past, a reminder of a time when I was giving a lot more than I was receiving. But three years later, Steve remains in my room, studying my every move as he watched me practically self-implode, pick up the pieces and put myself back together again. The habitat Steve first entered was one of calm, which quickly transformed into chaos after I began to drift away from his first owner. Within a month, he would've noticed a deterioration in my appearance. My hair grew long, while my facial hair remained untouched, and my body went unloved. Steve would witness my private mental breakdowns, mustering up the courage to go to work, attempting to put on a brave face and show no signs of weakness. While my determination to stay sane wilted, I wallowed in sadness, seeking refuge and solitude in my room. Only Steve could see me wipe away my own tears, wishing for the pain to stop. I left my supermarket job where Steve’s first owner worked, unable to tell her or anyone else how my mental health was spiralling because I felt too embarrassed. Two months prior, I was graduating from university, dating a girl I loved, and had a good family life. Now, I was out of education, jobless, single, and the family dog had died suddenly from cancer aged nine. I had no idea how to cope with so many negative changes in such a short space of time, and it overwhelmed me. I began to push so many people away, spend a lot of time by myself, and splash my saved-up money on things I shouldn't have. I was getting drunk most nights, coming home completely legless and throwing up on my bed because I didn't want to exist in the real world. I was eating unhealthily, not looking after my body, and my mind went deeper and deeper into a dark place. My money was deteriorating, my room was a mess, and I refused to talk to my family because of the guilt and shame I felt. From when I was gifted Steve in September until December, the figure donkey saw more of me than anyone else. He saw me leave the house on Christmas Eve, not knowing what I was thinking. I’d had enough of life, and my head, I thought it was the last time I would see him, or anyone. I left the house that day with no intention of ever coming back. But I did. And why? Because I thought of who I was leaving behind. At that moment, staring at the train tracks in the cold winter’s dusk, I acknowledged my conscience had left me, but I knew some people still cared about me. And there always is. No matter how low you're feeling, always know there is someone out there who cares deeply about you. At that moment, I thought of them, not me. So I walked all the way back home, back into my room, in Steve's eyeline, and saved myself. The months that followed were all about self-preservation and picking up the pieces. I spoke to my family about my mental health, coming clean about my anxiety and depression. My friends were next to know, and they were shocked to see me in such a fragile state, but they made up part of the glue that stuck me back together. Soon, I felt more like myself, looking towards the future, so I applied to do a Master's Degree in London. Steve would see a lot less of me during that year, as I would wake up at five in the morning to get the first of three trains on my commute. I started playing football again too- training on Wednesdays and games on Saturdays. I was making video content for a YouTube channel talking about my favourite football team, which led to me speaking on national radio multiple times. I was looking after my money too, and I was able to watch some of my favourite bands in concert and travel to Malta with my best friend. We also welcomed Darcey into the house, a red-fox Labrador with a bundle of energy. All of this felt great. I had a purpose again. I was happy. But was I fulfilled? I was doing well at this time, but it always felt like I was chasing fulfilment, a deeper sense of contentment where I didn't have to consciously avoid thinking about the past or seeing anything involving it. This is when Steve became a problem, as he was reminding me of my past. His presence reminded me of my darkest days- a side of me I wanted to forget. So for that, I hid him from vision, tucked away in the far corner of my room, behind some bags by my window. Steve couldn't see me, but he could still hear me. He could hear the pain in my voice, speaking on the phone to his first owner as we danced around difficult topics, trying to find a compromise as friends, despite the emotional pain we still both felt. Steve would also hear me argue with my sister- caught in the crossfire as I took my anger out on her. As our arguments grew more animated, we became more distant to the point we didn't speak for 14 months despite living in the same house. My Master's Degree was coming to an end, but I could feel myself getting back into old habits, blaming everyone else as I became bitter and broken again. The out-of-sight Steve would smell the return of drink and drugs to my room, feel the reverberation of my door slam after another argument, but he wouldn’t see the new way I began to punish myself- self-harm. Self-harm made sense of my internal pain- a physical injury showing the damage I was feeling inside. Towards the final moments at university, I would have to wear long-sleeve shirts and trousers at all times to hide the cuts, and it was these moments which made me realise I needed help. I was drifting away to where I once was, but this time, I knew the route back to safety On top of talking to family and friends, I began to have therapy, which helped enormously. The feeling of being supported and understood by a professional has done me the world of good, and it's helped me communicate my feelings, understand the way I think and help me make better choices. With this knowledge, I've learned how to address my past, stay present and not look too far into the future. And that's why in the current day, Steve can take pride of place on my shelf. In or out of view, Steve has been there through the highs and lows. He’s seen me lose strength, but build it up too, paralleling my friends and family. Steve now represents what I’ve bounced back from. Yes he entered my life at a low point, but that time doesn’t define me as a person. I like to think I’m defined by my resilience, my ability to go again despite the adversities I’ve faced. I once saw him as the beginning of the end- now he’s the end of the beginning. Steve came into my life when I first started experiencing problems with my mental health, and If I can navigate what I have in the last three years, I know I can find my way through other tough times in the future. Steve’s seen it all, and despite being a figure donkey, I’d like to think that when we lock eyes now, he’s proud of me. LABELS by Rain About the writer: Hello my name is: Rain. Young person History of Mental Illness Creative Autistic Trans Labels Shout out to the labels, that confirm I am disabled, To the generalisations, the stereotypes and the myths that are enabled, Label jars of marmalade, so they don’t get confused with the sweet lemon curd, It’s okay when it’s as simple as labelling a jar, but a human is more than a word. People are not just a label, but this seems to be easily forgotten, We tie it around each others necks with the strongest pieces of cotton, When the cotton is threatened by scissors, trying to release what is bound, Suddenly it’s threatening and too sharp for it to be around. If the label is difficult, you must have ticked all the boxes on the diagram, But the illness is too well hidden to be easily detected in a medical exam, It’s all in your head, they love to say that, but it’s not so funny when it’s true, It can’t be treated with a bandage or stitches or anything a doctor can do. The labels create goal posts, what you can access and where you can go, It’s not just those who are labelled that are disadvantaged though, To be accommodated and get the treatment you need the labels must be tied, So you are damned if you do or if you don’t, making it impossible to decide. The more complex the label the more difficult your life will potentially be, Those who add the label may argue over the specifics, some may not ever agree, This machine is flawed yet it still produces and stamps you with little variety, Because it loves to box you in, making you easier to understand by society. So labels can be helpful, can restrict and be a burden to wear, Can help you understand yourself better but can give others a scare, Language should assist not restrict, if it doesn’t perhaps it needs to update, Human beings should come before labels, we are more than a label can dictate. CHANGES by Rachel About the author: My name is Rachel, and I am 18-years-old. I wouldn't call myself a writer or a poet, instead, my struggle to express myself fluently has led me to write down my thoughts. I've been doing this for years and will likely continue. The crammed pages document the changes in my life, and while each page reminds me of my heartache, there was a moment when things shifted. There was a knock, and I answered. "Changes" is a letter to my younger self, but maybe it could be a letter to yours too. It's a reminder that my worth is not defined by my struggles, but by a God who loves me unconditionally, despite knowing that I would stumble. Change is like a mountain. It's rugged slopes long to claim the smiles and dreams of starry-eyed climbers who dare to ascend. And the thought of such yielding to its warped terrain sends a mocking gust plunging between its peaks. Towering in all its majesty, it sneers at those who undermine it. Change is timeless. It was here before you and will remain long after you. The distance from normality's comforting kiss can leave you feeling isolated, And each step takes from you, until only aches and pains are all that remain. Yet, come as you are, weary and broken. Lift your eyes to the expanse and seek Him who provides you with rest. Even slumped on the cliff of surrender, you are not far from His love. And when the winds whisper of fear and doubt swirls around you, remember His promise to be with you, always. To my younger self, in this world of instability, cling to the One that doesn't change. Jesus is the same yesterday, today and forever. STARTING OVER by Amy About the writer: I'm Amy, a twenty-two year old poet, essayist and lifelong d r e a m e r. Writing gives me an outlet to make sense of the world, and to make sense of my feelings. I always turn to creativity whenever my anxiety is heightened. Writing, painting, and making music give me the opportunity to tell my story, and to heal so that I can be more honest with myself and others. I live life with the ethos: If you don't like something, change it. This has inspired my piece "Starting Over". I'm always listening to music when I write. Here are some of my most loved tracks this year. Dear Reader - Taylor Swift; Lucky Stars - Haim; California: Chappell Roan; Only The Brave -Louis Tomlinson My Instagram is: @amyalexander maybe i should run towards what's good? tell me what would make my life better? asking myself a gazillion questions but I've known the answers for years. Starting over SHE'S COOL "Where you movin?" I said, "Onto better things" !!!!!START HERE!!!!! For much of my late teenage years and earlier twenties, I had become all-consumed with the idea of a “perfect life”; a life where my doubts, worries, insecurities, and overthinking tendencies don’t exist. I had pretended for far too long that my life was on the verge of becoming perfect. I had everything I thought I wanted, but after an “unexpected” breakup in March, I realised that the life I was living was not mine. A past version of me was haunting my mind, keeping me on a path I didn’t want to be on anymore. Instead, I had to let life show me how good it could get. I started my own magazine on Substack and started writing for a small gen-zine shortly after. I also decided to apply for Masters programs. I had to put myself first. “Starting Over” looked like: Wearing outfits that made me feel good Listening to happier music Making new friends Making choices that aligned with what I needed Working out more often What has helped me on this journey is opening up and talking about how I feel more often. I usually just write about it, but there’s something even more cathartic about sharing with others. It’s so important to have a community of trusted people around you. I feel so grateful to have that. Talking about my feelings has also calmed my anxiety. I typically am a chronic-overthinker, hyper-focused on certain decisions and moments. Therapy has helped me a lot in the past, and I would highly recommend it if it’s accessible for you. What has surprised me the most is how willing I am to do new things. Starting over has allowed me to become my own person. To forge a path that I want. To re-discover truths about myself. I don’t have to keep being one version of myself because that’s what people around me are used to. I can change. I celebrate that. Lastly, I want to share one piece of advice for those of you who want to “Start Over”. Don’t keep looking back at your past and wishing you had made the choice to move on sooner. Now is your chance. It’s not easy, but it’s absolutely the most freeing thing you could do for yourself. AMY ALEXANDER HELP AND SUPPORT If you’re struggling with your mental health, you are not alone. Here are some places you can go for information, advice and a listening ear. YoungMinds Has information and advice on coping with different feelings, situations and mental health conditions, as well as guides to medication and getting professional support. Go to youngminds.org.uk for more info. Childline If you’re under 19 you can confidentially call, chat online or email about any problem big or small. Call 0800 1111 for free, 24 hours a day. Go to childline.org.uk for more info. Samaritans Whatever you’re going through, you can contact Samaritans via phone or email to speak to someone who will listen. Call 116 123 or email jo@samaritans.org for free, 24 hours a day. Go to samaritans.org for more info. Papyrus Offers confidential advice and support for young people struggling with suicidal feelings. Call 0800 068 4141, text 07860039967, or email pat@papyrus-uk.org for free, 24 hours a day. Go to papyrus-uk.org for more info. Calm Harm A free app providing support and strategies to help you resist or manage the urge to self-harm. Can be downloaded from Google Play or App Store. Bayo Lists organisations that work specifically with Black young people, including places where Black young people can get mental health support in their local community. Go to bayo.uk for more info. Frank Provides honest information about drugs and alcohol. Call 0300 123 6600, text 82111 or email frank@talktofrank.com. Go to talktofrank.com for more info. We Are With You Offers free, confidential support to people experiencing issues with drugs, alcohol or mental health. Go to wearewithyou.org.uk for more info. MindOut A mental health service run by and for lesbians, gay, bisexual, trans and queer people with experience of mental health issues. Offers online support, including a live chat. Go to mindout.org.uk for more info. Switchboard Offers confidential support and advice to members of the LGBT+ community. Call 0800 0119 100 for free, 10am – 10pm every day. Online chat service also available. Go to switchboard.lgbt for more info. Galop A dedicated LGBT+ anti-violence charity. Gives advice and support to people who have experienced biphobia, homophobia, transphobia, sexual violence or domestic abuse. Call 0800 999 5428 Go to galop.org.uk for more info. Winston’s Wish Offers practical support and guidance to bereaved children, their families and professionals. Go to winstonswish.org for more info. Muslim Youth Helpline Offers confidential, faith and culturally sensitive support by phone, live chat, WhatsApp and email. Call 0808 808 2008 for free, 4pm to 10pm, seven days a week. You can also email help@myh.org.uk. Go to myh.org.uk for more info. Scope Provides practical information and emotional support for Disabled people. Call 0808 800 3333 You can also email helpline@scope.org.uk. Go to scope.org.uk for more info. Unreal Offers resources and advice, peer support and information for healthcare professionals about depersonalisation and derealisation. Go to unrealuk.org for more info. Beat Offers information and support for anyone affected by eating disorders. You can contact Beat by phone, email or webchat. They also operate a fully-moderated chat group for under 25s. Their phone number is different depending where you are: England: 0808 801 0677 Scotland: 0808 801 0432 Wales: 0808 801 0433 Northern Ireland: 0808 801 0434 Go to beateatingdisorders.org.uk for more info. No Panic Supports people struggling with panic attacks, phobias, obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD) and other anxiety-related issues. Call 0300 772 9844, 10am – 10pm, 365 days a year. Go to nopanic.org.uk for more info. SHARE YOUR FEEDBACK Thank you so much for taking the time to read this zine created by members of the YoungMinds Writers Programme. We’d really appreciate it if you can take our quick survey to tell us what you thought. Your feedback will help us to understand how the content and stories have impacted you. Scan the QR code on the PDF version or go to this link to take our five-minute survey: survey.alchemer.eu/s3/90873871/YoungMinds-Writers-Programme-Zine-feedback-2025 How to scan the QR code: Open the camera app on your device. Hold your device over the QR code as if you were going to take a picture of it. Click the link that pops up on your device screen. The survey will open on your device.