The sound of distraction

Hello all.

Has anyone else stopped counting the days now? I feel as though there are two stages of lock down; stage one- crying endlessly for days and stage two- accepting lock down as your new life and finding peace with it…until falling back into stage one again and the cycle continues.

I have cried a lot this week- some happy tears admittedly, but there have been days where I have woken up crying and gone to sleep crying, wondering when this is going to end. The hours of the day can go either way- some days are somewhat productive, better days of yoga and sunshine, other days are dark, feeling like I’m dead to the world. I don’t move- what’s the point? I’ve spent so many days searching for a point, because everything feels so pointless. It’s hard to get motivated with a sense of impending doom peering over your shoulder, watching your every move.

There are days where I feel like I’m going insane and I beat myself up and question why inspiration hasn’t struck me yet. You hear so often of those geniuses who fall into some form of madness and create these amazing things. I feel like I’m going insane, so why am I still just a dumb sh#t?

From this I’ve come to accept that not all of us are destined for great things. We are simply fillers, like extras on a soap.

One of the versions of me I hold in my mind, your protagonist perhaps, would climb up onto the roof and sit and ponder life, maybe smoke to make me look pensive and not just some twat sat on the roof. I would scream at the sky. I would run and keep running until my legs give way or I throw up or something.

Instead there are days where I simply exist.

And that’s ok.

Because inner peace is hard to find.

Sometimes it’s hard to breath, but on the days where the air tastes sweet you gotta breath that sh#t in, let it fill every fibre in your body. Remind yourself you’re still alive…because really that’s all we want, something to make us feel alive.

We practice mindfulness and meditate amongst other things to help us live in the moment in a calm and non spiralling out of control manner. True enough, from practising yoga every day and focusing on that time to myself to just breathe and chill with myself I am beginning to accept myself more. I enjoy noticing the changes in my body and realising that I am capable. All of this does work (admittedly maybe not for everybody).

However, what is it that makes us show up to the mat to practice or mediate or whatever it is we choose to do? Happiness? A calm mind? To feel alive? Really, it’s to avoid, suppress or overcome what is denying us of these things. Anxiety, depression, needs, worries, pain…

Ultimately, what we fear most and especially in our current climate is death. It feels like the world is ending and everything is uncertain. We find ways to distract ourselves and keep spirits high, but it’s hard when that freedom of life is taken away, those things we take for granted that would normally help us to live. It’s easy enough to feel like you’re going insane when really it’s the world that’s off it’s t#ts right now.

From birth the natural order of life and death is instilled in us. We are born and one day we die. I remember one night as a kid I sat sobbing, my mum trying to comfort me, kid me telling her I didn’t want her to die, even though there was nothing in that moment threatening to kill my mother other than the knowledge that no one is immortal.

It’s terrifying seeing the rising figures every day in the news and on social media and not being able to comfort loved ones during this time. But, taking this time to actually search within ourselves for that acceptance and peace amongst this madness can provide us with some comfort. Living amongst this chaos is an achievement in itself, so don’t allow yourself or anyone else to pressure you to feel like you need to achieve some great thing because you’ve got a lot more free time on your hands. Don’t feel like you need to pump out a full length novel, or gain a masters in some obscure subject or paint the next Mona Lisa. I mean, hey, if you can do those things then great, but that background noise of the world going to sh#t can be pretty distracting.

Unless you have soul searched enough and mastered that fear over death then simply existing and being right now is productive. You got out of bed?- whoo gold star. You had a shower?- big thumbs up. You ate something substantial? – yeah boi you eat that cereal.

Some of us aren’t meant for great things in the sense that so many associate with it. Yet, existing in itself is a pretty great thing. Especially right now. So, go you!

Honestly, I feel like none of this makes sense, so well done if you made it this far! I guess, what I’m trying to say is don’t put pressure on yourself to achieve something amazing during this lock down. Take each day as it comes. Sometimes fear can be motivating, yeah, but it can also be hella distracting. Instead of focusing so much on trying to achieve something take the time to work on yourself and keeping in touch with family and friends. Even writing this now I’m beating myself up, because trying to say what I want to say isn’t working out because I’m constantly being distracted.

I tried, guys.

Peace and love xo

Here’s something I wrote the other day that may sum things up a bit better:

Today I feel dead

Sorry, that was a lie

Although somewhat true

It’s hard to tell anymore

I don’t know what to do

I’m alive

Because I am

I’m still breathing, just not living

Today I am a ghost

Haunting a house in which I am not alone

I stretch

For a calm mind

To strengthen my body

But what’s the point?

For death will arrive soon

I write

Because I feel like it’s the thing to do

Not right or wrong

Just the thing

A thing

Not helpful or productive

No substance or grit

For the grit I cannot find words for and

Substance is fleeting and

Only exists in my nightmares

I want to gauge my eyes out

Then maybe I will see more clearly

Because right now these blank walls are all I see

And they are f#cking distracting me

But this is my view of the world now

The rest is but a memory

Air and greenery

Friends and family

Because what I see on a screen isn’t real

Hello, I’m still here

Oh, hello there.

So yes it has been a very hot minute since my last post on here. A lot has happened in the past several months so here is a brief update before I dive any deeper.

• I got a new job, whoop.
• I bought my first car (she’s called Jean).
• My Chemical Romance got back together meaning my predictions for 2019 were true.

Ok, so putting it like that nothing much has happened, well at least in those milestone senses. But, these were things that I had been wanting to tick off my list for a hella long time (especially the My Chemical Romance one).

However, in general, life has felt turbulent. The transition from one job to the next happened extremely quickly and didn’t give me much chance to dwell on things too much, like whether I was making the right choice or whether I should hold onto the what if of getting promoted in my then current role. I decided I couldn’t hold onto what ifs and took the new role offered to me working for a french designer brand.

Due to my job’s location this meant I would have to commute some distance which pushed me to finally buy my first car…four years after first passing my driving test. It felt so good buying my first car after saving for so long and putting it off…what didn’t feel so good was getting behind the wheel again after four years. It took a lot to get my confidence back and to, you know, actually be somewhat road worthy.

So, thus began the métro, boulot, dodo.

Things were starting to fall into place. I should have been happy, and I was, kinda. I was enjoying my new role (no panic attacks in the staff toilets and I love all the beautiful clothes and my team), I was out on the road and was surrounded by amazing people. Yet, I just felt tired. My mind was constantly spinning.

Those who know me know how much I hate New Year’s, I don’t mind Christmas, but something bad always happens that time of year. The end of 2019 and start to 2020 win at being the crappiest yet. I felt the most alone in my life, crying in my car late at night or watching dawn break early morning, parked up in random places wondering whether any of this was worth it anymore, no one cared. My head was a state most of the time but it had reached a point where I was doubting myself, struggling to tell the truth from the lies, I had been lied to so much. And even still I was made to feel guilty for it. I just wanted to disappear.

Days later, it wasn’t me who disappeared, but my grandad who did. My mum had phoned me the morning of the 8th January from her works telling me that my grandad had gone walk abouts. He has always been one for going off out walking so not thinking much of it I figured he would be back soon. So, I went out to run some errands as it was my day off and when I returned home I checked Facebook and that’s when I saw the news article declaring my grandad missing. My grandad has dementia, so I automatically started thinking of the worse. I was home alone and my mind started spiralling. There was nothing I could do- other than me, mum and dad the rest of my family all live in Manchester whilst we live out in the muddy hills of Shropshire and being a not-so confident driver who hadn’t done the drive before it was too risky for me to drive over especially in the state I was in. Luckily, my grandad was eventually found over in Stockport and taken home. I say home, but now I’m not too sure if that’s how he see’s it. Dementia is such a horrible illness- it takes away the person you are. I love my granddad dearly, but I have come to accept that he is a shell of the person he once was- the man who would take me to museums on days out, let me play the piano in one of the back rooms of Manchester library, and take me on long walks where I would come back not wanting to move for hours afterwards. And, I miss him, even though he is still here.

Everyone in work kept telling me how well I seemed to be coping with everything. My reply was always that there was that much going on in my life and running through my mind I simply didn’t have the mental head space to process any of it. I was worried for my family, I felt like a shit friend for being so off the radar and up in my own head and the person I loved was further away from me than ever. The physical distance of a long distance relationship didn’t even compare to the emotional distance that was there. I was still trying to forgive, still trying to figure out where I had gone wrong when all I had ever tried to do was right, having people make me feel guilty, others telling me I was doing the right thing, others telling me to think of myself. I was constantly being told what I should be doing when I didn’t know how I was meant to feel. I just didn’t want to lose my love, my best friend, in an emotional or physical sense. But, I also didn’t want to lose myself.

And, yeah it’s taken a lot to get to where we are now, steadily figuring out what’s going on and getting the right support. Part of me feels guilty for not saying anything sooner, for not reaching out for help- thinking did it really have to get this bad?- to reach this point before finding the right help?

People often tell you to reach out, myself being one of those people, but it is hard taking that first step, I’ve had to do that myself. It’s hard to put into words when you don’t know how you’re feeling or what’s going on in your head. Sometimes, there’s just nothing there. It’s hard taking that step yourself, it’s also hard taking that step with someone else and walking down that path with them. Because, you will get hurt, you will feel alone, you will doubt yourself. But, from this I’ve realised how important it is to reach out so you’re not leading blindly and to have people around you to point you in the right direction or to pick you up when you fall, because there will be times where you’ll fall down, the path isn’t straight and narrow.

Back in October we went to see Dream State at the Club Academy in Manchester, a pretty small venue and I remember CJ (lead vocalist) telling the crowd to let go of their anxiety so I decided to get closer to the pit. One minute I’m there having  a blast, next I’m on the floor. Don’t think I’ve ever hit the ground so hard. I don’t really remember much, but I remember arms reaching down to pick me up, I don’t know who’s but I was back up again living my best life. I guess, this is me offering an anecdote here- basically, sometimes we get knocked down, but there’s people around us who want to help, even if it’s a stranger dragging you up off of the grimy floor of the Club Academy.

That being said, it’s still super important to learn to walk alone and not overly rely on others. Learn to be happy alone and take that time to do what you love- read, write, draw, dance, listen to music, go run a freakin’ mile if it helps. Learn how to take care of yourself in a healthy and happy way!

Self-care is something I’ve been lacking in lately, I’ve been too wrapped up in work and life and my own head and that of others I’ve forgotten about myself and doing what I love. So, I guess this is me in a short burst of time I have to myself attempting to do that and to actually process my life right now. Because, writing has always been my way of doing that. I know I’m not a writer, I know I’m no good, but this is how I process. It’s true I haven’t had the head space to process anything myself, but I also have not allowed myself the time to sit down and write it all down because me rambling on like this is how I do so.

And writing random things like this also helps- taken from a collection of poems/prose I’ve been working on, if you can call this nonsense that. Seems suitable to end this one on, maybe, maybe not…it’s been a while after all.

Isn’t it strange?

How suddenly life

Can turn us up

On our heads?

One minute you’re

Lying awake at night

Filled with dread

Worrying

When will your time come?

And after all this time spent pondering the worst

Fate throws you a curve ball

Hitting you hard enough to knock the air out of you

Because it’s now your turn to shine

You’ve sat and watched

As those around you fall gracefully onto their path

But you have never been one for grace

But for graft

Working hard to self-start

As the world around you falls apart

You clamber up

And still voices have pushed you back down

Trying to pull you along their own dark path

Where they found themselves lost and afraid

Now they lie awake like you once did

The shadows tearing their minds apart

However, one knows not to follow in another’s footsteps

But to pave your own

Now, take off your shoes

And place your feet in the dirt

It may feel cold at first

But soon it will warm to you

As you will warm to it

And flowers will blossom because this is your path

This is your time

So run

 

• Your time/ Your path

 

So, I guess that’s it. I’m still here. I guess if you’ve made it this far down you’re still here too and I haven’t bored you to death so whoo go you!

I’ll try not to leave it so long in the future.

Peace and love xo

 

 

Being as a woman

The other day I was downstairs having breakfast before work and the telly was left on and upon the screen was Lorraine Kelly chatting to a young woman in a segment on upskirting- which fortunately now is classed as a criminal offence. This woman had to fight for this so that women didn’t have to be victim to something so vulgar like she had been herself. Gina Martin had been at a music festival when a man using his phone took a photo underneath her skirt and shared the photo on social media.

As horrific as this sounds upskirting has been becoming more and more common. However, thanks to the hard work and campaigning Gina has done this disgusting and intrusive act is now a criminal offence.

I think this is such a strong example of women looking out for other women. Women fighting for the comfort and safety of other women.

As a young woman I am fortunate to have a strong circle of women around me for support and with whom I can share my thoughts and opinions as well as confusion brought on by certain situations.

My job involves a lot of heavy lifting and one day I was carrying some crates alongside a male colleague who very kindly offered to carry the crates to which I thanked him but I was capable of doing it myself. He then asked me if I was a feminist…

I don’t identify as a feminist yet I am often told I am one. In many cases it feels more like an accusation, or an insult. I have even been told to stop my feminist rants by men I hold closest to me.

However, I forgive this as often it is down to confusion and misunderstanding. For example, my boyfriend scrolls through Facebook and stumbles across an article about the proposition of an all female festival, “because that’s not sexist,” he states sarcastically. I explain that it may seem like that to him but this is the point it has reached so that women can feel safe and comfortable in an open environment.

Over dinner one night my father debates when all this bloody feminism is going to end because eventually it will go too far. Where do we draw the line?

Perhaps when women don’t have to set themselves curfews in fear of coming across an unwanted stranger whilst walking home in the dark. Streetlights go out at a certain time after all, leaving us vulnerable.

And maybe whilst we’re walking home and we no longer have to hold our keys between our fingers.

Or the day we can ask a male friend we trust to walk us home as it’s getting late and they’re heading the same way for them not to assume they can come in for a, “cup of tea…”

Or when the group of lads living on the same floor stop the unnecessary bodily contact, the persistent knocking at girls’ doors, the harassment they enforce upon us.

When our arses are no longer smacked in clubs.

When we don’t have to constantly cover our drinks.

When we don’t have to use code words to help us escape an uncomfortable situation.

When we can walk down a street without being cat-called.

Or the day we can wear skirts without the fear of being upskirted.

Or maybe when our underwear doesn’t determine whether we are open to intercourse or not. A thong is not consent. Lace is not consent. Pretty colours are not consent.

The day we are no longer harassed, when we are no longer violated, when we are no longer objectified and sexualised.

When women across the world have the rights they deserve.

This fight is not about having a female James Bond or Doctor. These are literary characters. A win would be seeing an original strong female lead cast or story, not simply borrowing an other and giving it an unnecessary female lead in a sorry attempt at appealing to a female audience. What is needed is more discussion and education. Giving successful females the attention they deserve so that young girls have women to look up to so that they know they are destined for great things because they will be the ones to break the glass ceiling.

Across the world there are women out there fighting. For example if we look at the Ni Una Menos movement in Argentina which battles against femicide. Women are being abused and killed by their partners, in some cases even friends or strangers with many cases of violence going unreported due to fear. Bodies have been left in streets after being violated and many have been marked and left in the open to be seen, an additional threat. This is down to strong patriarchal values, inequalities and discrimination.

However, there are also men fighting. Fighting against toxic masculinity, gender stereotypes and for the women in their lives. Many men are under pressure from a young age to be “one of the lads.” If not there is threat of being seen as insufficient- seen as “girly.” This is also something that needs to be redefined. Not just the term, “girly,” having negative connotations and being used as an insult more often than not by the male gender but the pressures and toxicity seen here.

There is work to be done, but it is clear that people’s mentalities are not going to change over night. Yet, we must take the achievements we have made thus far in our stride and use these as a springboard to help us further in this battle.

I do not identify as a feminist possibly because wants such as these should be so natural that we should not have to put a label on them.

Is it so hard to lift and empower others?

Peace and love xo

New Year: pessimism, realism, embracing life

So we’re a week into 2019 and I’m already pretty much done with what I predicted would be a pretty shit year.

You may think I’m simply being pessimistic, but when your year starts with stress, uncertainty and a member of your family being left for dead it’s kinda hard not to feel somewhat pessimistic.

The festive period is often a fun time- it’s a time to eat and spend time with family. It’s also stressful and costly however meaning many of us enter the new year with lesser funds unless you work in retail and have been working your arse off for some extra dosh at the price of having some posh folk fighting over turkeys and that last little bit of veg. Honestly you would think there were a famine and that people weren’t about to enter a food coma from scranning on pigs in blankets and endless amounts of gravy covered meat (of course not the case for my fellow veggies out there) washed down by floods of bubbly. On Christmas Eve, instead of spending time with family, like seagulls customers flock into store, pecking away at shelves, hovering as you reduce the price of some bags of sprouts before snatching a bag from under your nose to then hop off to see what else they can find.

Christmas is meant to be cosy and magical, filled with festive traditions. Yet, Christmas 2018 couldn’t have felt further from it.

However, it soon passed as quickly as it had come around, leaving us in the limbo period between Boxing Day and New Years where many of us don’t even know where we are until the clock strikes 12 on the 31st. For those couple of days many of us mull around, eating chocolates and avoiding the coconut flavoured ones and maybe as well thinking of how we are going to welcome the New Year. Normally I would be telling it to do one after a couple of drinks, but this year I was fortunate enough to be surrounded by people I love meaning I wasn’t allowed a moment to even flip the bird to the start of the New Year.

When I told my colleague I hate New Year he asked why. I told him because bad stuff always happens around New Years meaning I have a negative relationship with this time of the year.

So, although I laughed my way into 2019 and had fun, unfortunately my claim stood true. The reason itself is not something I wish to delve into on here, but despite me losing faith in humanity I am putting my faith into modern medicine and that justice works its magic.

2019 is a year that I’ve been fearing. For years I’ve had my life planned out. I’ve had every deadline written down twice, each lecture, any important meetings, special occasion or holiday. 2018 was filled with them and will most likely be marked as one of the best years of my life through everything I have achieved, despite everything I have also lost. Thus, by entering 2019 it meant I would be leaving that life behind. 2019 was and is a blank.

Yet, events have proved to me that it doesn’t matter how much you plan, how many times you write plans down, sometimes life intervenes. Things can happen suddenly which nothing can prepare you for.

Last year I made myself some aspirations for 2018 as I do not believe in resolutions as they are just made to be broken which defeats their purpose. I have not sat and formulated a list of everything I wish to achieve this year as it contradicts my main aspiration for 2019.

Accept that life cannot be controlled.

For someone who has suffered with both feelings of anxiety and depression, feeling in control can help to quell these feelings. However, when this control is taken it of course results in a negative effect- stress, panic and in extreme cases shutting down. Although unpleasant these feelings are often repressed, yet as a result can still take a toll whether it be from exhaustion or simply a lack of concentration or focus amongst other things.

Approaching this blank page my instinct is to fill it in instantly, giving me control. Yet, this time around I can’t and this is something I need to accept. I also need to accept the fact that leading on from what has been such a momentous year 2019 is going to seem pretty empty in comparison despite all the great moments I know await this year.

Life cannot be controlled but I hope that with some hard work and perseverance I hope that 2019 is a year where I continue to improve myself. Maybe I will finally get a car, maybe I will travel again, maybe My Chemical Romance will get back together.

Who knows?

Peace and love and a happy new year xo

Look at me now

I must have blinked at some point during summer and somehow ended up here at the end of November.

As quickly as it has come around and spun by November 2018 will stick with me into 2019 and beyond because as much as I feel like I have lost this year I feel like I have gained a lot just in this month.

Four years later I have finally graduated. My student years, some of the best of my life have come to an end. There have been many a late night library session, uncountable cups of coffee, lots of tears and a couple of mental breakdowns but all of the hard work and effort we have put in over the course of those four years built up to that moment we were seated in Chester Cathedral, caps and gowns on point. For weeks I had been so nervous, constantly telling myself, “don’t fall,” because maybe Jennifer Lawrence can pull of falling up the steps at The Oscars but myself falling onto the podium, cap flying into the air might not go down as well.

However, despite the nerves, when I finally found my seat in the cathedral my nerves were put at ease. Everything felt right. This is what we had waited so long for. Although many others had turned up in heels, when my name was called I was grateful I had chosen to wear my trusty Docs. I now had my degree in hand and it was time for us all to celebrate, tossing our caps into the air (which is really why we were all there).

There had been such a huge build up to this day and then all of a sudden it was over. I was now a graduate. I had gotten as much wear out of my cap and gown as I could, necked some Prosecco and taken plenty of photos. Many people had shot off early to spend time with family, others were ready to party into the night. I however, was happy with a nice tea of roast veg, a tinsy bit more Prosecco and playing some Kingdom Hearts ready for the long trek down to Cardiff the following morning.

After about a four hour journey we finally found ourselves in Cardiff. Upon arriving the Welsh capital seemed oddly quiet (other than Lush, Lush is never quiet) so we took advantage of this and had a stroll around the shops before heading off for some food. The restaurant we found ourselves in was far from quiet, it was a Saturday night after all, with two levels filled with people. Fortunately for us we were not in the centre of all this and found ourselves in a booth near the kitchen where we were entertained by the rolling laughter of the chefs. After finishing a couple of drinks and what had been one of the best meals I’d eaten in a long time (despite wishing I hadn’t ordered cheesecake but instead the banoffee pie) the rest of Cardiff’s inhabitants made themselves known clad in rugby gear and war paint. Wales had beaten Australia causing a wave of glee and drunken pride to wash over Cardiff. Fans had begun filling the streets, chanting and cheering. We took this as our cue to get the bill and head back to the hotel.

Sunday morning was even quieter, most likely because many a rugby fan was struggling with the aftermath of a heavy night of celebrating. Spending the day strolling around the city centre by the time it reached late afternoon it was time to think about getting ready for that night. Made up in black, tickets in hand and freakin’ freezing it was time to head to the Motorpoint Arena. Now, as hyped as I had been for graduation I was probably equally if not more hyped for this night. Tonight was Bullet For My Valentine’s ‘Coming Home’ show as they made their return to Wales. Bullet are such a huge band and one of the most successful acts to come out of Wales and I would be seeing them for the first time.

Upon entering the arena it was a mad dash to the food stand where I sold my soul for a tray of greasy ass fries and then a sprint for the vodka slushies. Now, we were ready.

There were three opening acts that night- SHVPES, Nothing More and Of Mice & Men. SHVPES did a good job of setting the mood for the night followed by Nothing More with their creative mixture of pitchy screaming, electro beats, and bare feat. There was more of a buzz before Of Mice & Men hit the stage. The last time we had seen Of Mice & Men was back in 2015 back when Austin Carlile was still part of the band, before he left the band on health grounds as his struggle with marfan syndrome alongside performing each night was taking a toll on him. That night the band performed songs primarily from their newest album Defy, seemingly to steer away from the old Of Mice & Men with the only hint of the old sound when the band closed with The Depths.

Not long after the lights went down and to screams and chants of “Bullet” the band emerged silhouetted against a white backdrop as they opened with Leap Of Faith, from their latest album Gravity before taking us way back with songs from their earlier albums. One of those songs being 4 Words (To Choke Upon) from their 2005 album The Poison. As soon as I heard those first couple of chords played I turned to my boyfriend and said, “get me up there.” Upon my boyfriend’s shoulders I could see the whole crowd. I screamed, tears in my eyes alongside the rest of the crowd, “look at me now.”

For a long time music and songs like these were the only thing keeping me going. Since finishing uni I have felt lost, feeling like I don’t really have a place anywhere. Up above the crowd in that moment I felt alive. I didn’t feel lost anymore, because in the crowd I belonged.

Bullet had one of the best set lists I’ve heard, truly taking the crowd on a journey through anger with Your Betrayal, closure with Letting You Go and songs like Not Dead Yet remind us that we are alive and to go out and live.

Of course the band couldn’t end the night without playing their biggest hit Tears Don’t Fall, a huge six minute anthem in which Matt Tuck’s voice commanded the crowd. When Matt Tuck screams, “let’s go!” you move. And then it was time for one last song, the one we had been waiting for- it was time for demons to be unleashed. Waking The Demon is another anthem filled with screams, heavy chords and the sweetest of riffs. For one last time that night the crowd gave it everything they had.

Once the band had left the stage I ran through confetti and followed my boyfriend over to first-aid where we found our mate who had taken a plastic bottle to the face over in the pit leaving him with a bloody eye. Despite this we all agreed it was a top night.

The past couple of months I’ve felt lost and I think it’s partially down to the fact that I feel like I’ve lost a part of myself this year. Just in a couple of months so much in my life has changed. Many see change as a process, but I feel like many changes are as sudden as cutting the stems of some flowers. That’s how delicate life balances are, how easily we can lose things. I’ve lost who to me was a member of my family- a huge part of my life, I’ve lost to me something that defined who I was-what gave me purpose, and a lifestyle as a student which gave me my freedom and independence.

However, just in these past couple of weeks I’ve seen that I’ve gained things too.

Just over two weeks after seeing Bullet, we went to see Bring Me The Horizon for the second time, two years after the first time we saw them. The weather was chilly in Birmingham that Friday and luckily the doors had opened early to let shivering fans in. My boyfriend was already ill with a chest infection so we were grateful not to be outside too long. I was so excited however my boyfriend and our friend didn’t share the same enthusiasm with one full of the lurgy and the other having to be up early the next day. So, during the opening acts the three of us stayed to the back of the crowd.

I had not heard of Yonaka before but as the band started playing a huge smile broke across my face because the lead vocalist had lungs on her. They brought a huge abundance of energy and then even added to the Fever 333’s performance as they were joined together on stage dedicating a song to all the women in the crowd to huge cheers, emphasising the fact that women should be allowed to feel safe in the crowd. This paired with my excitement was the motivation I needed. I headed in alone.

To some this may seem like nothing, but a couple of years back, maybe even a couple of months back I wouldn’t have been able to go into a crowd like that alone. The first time we saw Bring Me I had to leave the crowd after it got too much for me, I was overwhelmed and felt like I couldn’t breath and all I could think was that I needed to get out- I had been consumed by a huge wave of panic.

That night I was in my element amongst the crowd. I can’t remember the last time I felt the floor bounce like it did that night. The band played a mixture of their newest hits such as Mantra and songs from their previous albums That’s The Spirit and Sempiternal, even throwing in a special acoustic version of Drown. Yet, the highlight for many true Bring Me fans was a medley of old songs including The Comdedown and Diamonds aren’t Forever, giving newer fans (or teens who were just there trying to be edgy) a taste of Bring Me’s death core origins with even Oli himself afterwards saying, “back to the shit songs now.” I couldn’t help but giggle. Towards the end of the night Oli went onto explain how the world has more or less gone to shit and that sometimes yeah it’s ok to get sad, it’s ok to get angry, just put your middle fingers up and deal with it. Antivist is one of those anthems you can’t help but scream to.

So, although I feel like I’ve lost a lot I’ve also gained something (not just a degree). I feel more in control of myself, it’s no longer anxiety taking over. Before finishing uni I was scared that I would revert back to the old me, but I feel far from that.

Things take time but they do get better. It’s not easy and it won’t happen over night, just gradually with each little moment and then you will look back and see how far you have come.

And with that you will be able to turn back and say, “look at me now.”

Peace and love xo

 

Is it all for nothing?

Back on the 7th October myself, my boyfriend and a couple of his mates went to a gig over in Manchester. I was super hyped as it was my first gig since going to Slamdunk in May, but this was the start of a pretty decent lineup.

The Amity Affliction are an Australian band who have changed up their sound of late, which previously had been pretty sameish. Don’t get me wrong, their songs are full of bounce and some good riffs, yet they more or less all followed the same structure and it was beginning to get pretty repetitive which is something fans were picking up on and clearly the band were too. Their new sound is the right amount of different that they are not straying from their roots, but it is noticeable and takes a few listens to get used to.

The venue was the smallest I’ve been to. The Academy 2 is a room above the University of Manchester’s SU. We all headed straight the the bar for drinks (stay hydrated at gigs, kiddies) and found a decent spot- close enough to the front for a good view yet far enough to the side so I don’t get sucked into a mosh pit. One of the lads mentioned that there was going to be three opening acts and with the amount of running around I had been doing of late I had not had chance to check them out let alone did I know who was actually going to step out on stage.

The first band stepped on stage not long after the room began to fill. Endless Heights had an interesting sound, yet I couldn’t help but wonder, as I listened to their sweet melodies, what conditioner was the lead vocalist using because those waves were clearly well looked after, reminding me of Heath Ledger’s tousled waves in 10 Things I Hate About You.

However, when Dream State stepped out on stage after a quick interval I knew this was gonna be good. It was better. The band brought an abundance of energy to the stage which had the crowd moving. The way the band interacted with the crowd with Charlotte leaping into the crowd, her sincere words as she explained the meaning behind songs such as White Lies with lyrics discussing struggles with addiction. Now, I had heard of Dream State and enjoyed their music and what their sound stood for, but being there having the words spoken to me in that room, it’s a moment that has stuck with me.

The Plot in You followed, building up to the moment when Amity finally stepped out onto the stage. The crowd were ready and began moshing instantly (meaning I was ditched, which I didn’t mind). The band played songs that the fans wanted to hear with people getting thrown around here and there for good measure. People were loving the heavy screams and the sweet riffs. However, I couldn’t help but notice that although the crowd was certainly full of energy the same couldn’t be said for the band itself, particularly their lead vocalist with his intense glare. I wondered if this was part of their new persona or if they were just a little jet lagged.

There was an awesome vibe the whole night and is definitely one I will remember. At one point I even ventured out towards the mosh pit and survived so that’s a win too.

Since that night I have seen one of my oldest and closest friends walk down the isle and marry the love of her life in a beautiful ceremony as well as made preparations for graduation and spent some time with my mother.

I’ve also seen a lot floating around on social media discussing mental health. Part of me wanted to say something, to be another voice in the sea. But, I decided against it, at least at that time, because what I felt like saying didn’t really fit alongside what most were saying, which was mostly along the lines of, “it’s ok to talk about mental health.”

Which it is. Now. Maybe…

Around this time last year, maybe a little later I cut a lot of my hair off over the bathroom sink like a scene from an Evanescence video. My hair had been down to my waist and was now up to my shoulders. I was stressed, depressed and the pressure of final year and work had formed some cracks within me. Weeks later I was sat in front of a counsellor, nervous and apprehensive. For over several weeks of my final year of university I underwent a course of counselling. I expressed that for a while I felt like I was doing good, things were ok, but now somehow I had found myself here. I was anxious, irritable, exhausted, lonely, isolated and just didn’t really feel like existing at times. Over the years anxiety has presented itself in different ways with its most recent way to mess with my head being that it made me question what I was eating, more specifically whether I was allergic to certain ingredients (bearing in mind I have no known allergies). Beforehand anxiety has presented itself more as social anxiety, before that more general. Before that I was mostly just depressed, maybe a bit of both at times.

I explained my thoughts, feelings and experiences and that it was strange hearing myself discuss things that I had not even mentioned to those closest to me. When questioned why my response was a mixture of, “I’ve tried”, or “if they listened they would see me differently.”

I feel like people often say it’s ok to talk or to reach out yet often when people do so we are not greeted with the response that has been suggested. From a young age I have been told to, “take a chill pill,” or I’ve had friends tell me I’m not depressed although the previous weekend I’ve had to endure my parents arguing about my somewhat self destructive behaviour, having to hear them question how I’m going to cope in the real world. I was a let down, even my parents had lost faith in me. This negative reinforcement over the years built up walls around me. I had to be ok because that’s what was expected of me. I wasn’t depressed because I didn’t look depressed. I couldn’t feel anxious because that made me ill and that was a burden, “stop it, you’re going to make yourself ill.” Lines like this just made me more anxious.

As the sessions went on I began to feel like a weight was being lifted off of my shoulders, a weight I had been carrying for years. Because, although people often say it’s ok to talk about mental health there is still lack of conversation because people aren’t allowing it. It wasn’t until leaving Albacete back in 2016 when I finally felt that maybe it was time to open up about how I felt, about how I feel. Admittedly, this did help to some degree along with beginning the blog. If I felt anxious people understood if I needed a moment or how to help bring me back down if things had gotten too much. Despite this there was still a grey cloud over me.

That being said I still felt like I was making progress, I wasn’t the person I once was. At the same time this thought filled me with dread because despite all the effort I had made to improve I could always fall down again and I knew that. I didn’t want to be that person again. As excited as I was to complete my degree I also dreaded it because I felt that I would revert back to that person. I didn’t want everything that I had worked towards to be for nothing.

However, a few months down the line and that hasn’t happened as of yet. I actually feel the best I have felt in a long time. I haven’t been hit by anxiety in a good while nor have I let depression curl me up into the fetal position with a vacant glaze over my eyes. Although, at times I have questioned whether it has all been for nothing. I’ve got nothing to show for it after all.

Then I think back to seeing Dream State in that small room and hearing Charlotte yell, “is it all for nothing?” No, no it isn’t. As the song goes some of us have been trapped In This Hell and have had to crawl our way out ourselves. And it’s a tough climb. However, there are some people still trapped even though it may not seem like it- us humans can put on a good front when we need to.

So, if you see someone struggling offer them your hand. For those of us who have struggled alone we wouldn’t want the same for anyone else. A smile may not always be true. When someone tells you they’re, “just tired,” it might be because anxiety has kept them awake all night. We never really know what people are going through or what they have been through so take time to listen even though at times we may not want to talk. It’s because we feel like we can’t. Give us time.

A battle is not for nothing. The fight is ongoing.

Peace and love xo

Life cannot be rushed

Yes, I am aware that it has been about a month since I have written anything of some sort of substantial worth. Since leaving Chester a lot has been going on and I have been busy basically trying to get my life set up in a way that’s gonna get me where I want to be.

Although I haven’t had chance to write on here I have been doing a lot of thinking, since I’ve had so much time spent alone with my thoughts. Just over a year ago I wrote two posts discussing life back home after returning from my year abroad in Lyon (which you can read here and here) and now I’m beginning to feel a strange sense of déjà vu, although I haven’t really been anywhere…just under an hour up the bypass.

Yet, here I am again, sat in the summer sun trying to piece my life together. However, this time around instead of having to re-adapt to life back home after living in Lyon, missing the French culture and lifestyle- going to the opera most weekends, the language, the people, the baguettes amongst everything else- I feel like I’m just having to adjust to life back home…with nothing much more. I mentioned the French culture, well I feel like university had a culture of its own and it revolved around independence and freedom. Other than the continuous onslaught of assignments and deadlines as students we have the privilege of being able to live independently and the freedom to choose what we want to do and when whether it be shopping, cooking, eating, drinking, or going out. Of course, these are things I can still do now, yet not in the same way. Living in a city in a shared house had its perks- I could walk into the city centre whenever I felt like it (as more or less everything in Chester is withing walking distance) and was kept busy with my studies and my job, I enjoyed the sense of routine, it kept me busy. Now, I’m living back home in a small town with a minimal amount of things to do, lacking in decent public transport. This has had me feeling incredibly isolated and although this is “home” I still feel like I’m in an unfamiliar environment. Maybe, because I haven’t spent that much time actually living here or because already I’m longing to be away again. Last year, whilst I was stuck in the limbo known as summer I had something to focus on in the meantime, I was busy preparing for my final year of university, moving back to Chester and attending part-time job interviews to earn some money towards a car whilst I studied. This time around, although I’ve been looking for jobs more or less everyday, attending interviews and taking part in trial days I feel as though I’m stood in front of a huge grey sea and I don’t know what lies beneath its waters, and I don’t know how far out to the horizon it reaches. Normally, I’m able to break time down, giving myself points to meet whether they be starting points or deadlines, whereas at the moment I can’t really do that. Everything feels very vast and empty and it’s overwhelming, I don’t want to find myself lost amongst the waves. It’s true, there’s the odd event there to break time up a bit, the odd boat on the sea, yet there is nothing fixed there for me, I’m just treading water. It reached the point where I felt like my schedule was just so empty I impulsively bought gig tickets to give myself something to look forward to, even though money is so tight I just need to know that some point soon I will be getting away for a little while. Instead of being in a sea of uncertainty I’ll be in a sea of people moshing and screaming their lungs dry. Since Slam Dunk I have had no gigs lined up and now I have The Amity Affliction, Bullet For My Valentine and Twenty One Pilots lined up and if money weren’t an issue the list would go on…blame the impulsive emo kid in me that never left.

In the past, if I were faced in this situation, I would have let myself sink, I would have allowed my head to sink below the waves and let the water fill my mouth and burn my lungs until I was left floating in the black.

However, at the moment I am at a point somewhere past anxiousness where instead of holding me back, anxiety is pushing me forwards because it knows there is too much riding on this. It has reached a point of overload where normally I might flee to a comfort zone, which right now I don’t have so instead it is pushing me to find that comfort zone again somewhere else. To do this, I will need to get my life set up pretty soon and anxiety knows this. It also knows what I need to do in order to do so.

As I’ve been sat writing this I took a moment to check Instagram and as I was scrolling through people’s stories some wise words courtesy of my girl crush Lynn Gunn popped up. Those who follow her may have also seen this little extract from a book which she had drawn around in pencil to share with us (if anyone knows the book please let me know as she didn’t say) which stated,

“Patience and timing…everything comes when it must come. A life cannot be rushed, cannot be worked on a schedule as so many people want it to be. We must accept what comes to us at a given time, and not ask for more. But life is endless, so we never die; we were never really born. We just pass through different phases. There is no end. Humans have many dimensions. But time is not as we see time, but rather in lessons that are learned.”

It’s crazy how relevant this is to how I’m feeling right now and how these words just happened to pop up as I was writing this. I’ve often wondered if there’s someone out there somewhere in the world thinking the same thoughts as us, feeling the same feelings as us and it’s moments like this that reassure me that it’s true- that we are not alone with our thoughts and feelings because someone out there is going through something similar.

You are never alone in this life.

At times loneliness may overcome us, we may feel isolated, but we are never alone.

During uni there was only the odd occasion where I did feel alone or lonely, because I was constantly surrounded by housemates and friends and not having them around on a more or less daily basis has been strange and since being home there have been more times where I have felt alone. This feeling has been almost amplified that since we lost Scrappy back in May the house has felt so empty without him. He was company when I needed it- he was there to wake me up in the mornings, greet me when I got home and to cuddle with me on the settee. So much love from one small dog.

Like I have mentioned before, I described the period before finishing uni a sort of limbo whereas now that uni is actually over I see it as more of sense of “post-university blues,” similar to post-gig blues, but different…

After a gig the post-gig blues kick in- we miss the energy, the people the sounds and want to get back at it again, we need to be back in that sea of people again. With post-university blues we’ve come down from a different sort of high- we’ve gone from daily lectures, a pile of assignments and deadlines with a cheeky impromptu night out thrown in here and there surrounded by so many people you’ve gotten to know over the years. Upon submitting our final assignments we were all free to celebrate, all our hard work had been worth it, giving us the results we wanted. Now, some of us are left thinking, “what now?”

We stand at the sea’s edge, a beach in the dark. The darkness makes us think we are alone, it blinds us to those around us. We stare out at the moonlight that glitters off of the edges of night black waves. Until, a lighthouse shines its light on our shores to show us that there are those out there waiting in the dark too. Do we really know what it is we’re waiting for- what’s out there? No. But, we will know it when it arrives. We just have to be patient and give it time until then, we cannot rush life. We are only given one life, we cannot rush blindly through it.

Set goals, strive for greatness but accept that things will come as and when they shall.

Peace and love xo

Chasing the sun

“But as the years went on, I realised that what I really want to be, all told, is a human. Just a productive, honest, courteously treated human.”
― Caitlin Moran, How to Be a Woman

You know what they say about the best laid plans?

This past weekend was meant to be my last full weekend in Chester before moving out of my student house this Saturday. I had a packed weekend planned out involving a trip to the zoo, great food and a cheeky bar crawl around some of the bars Chester has to offer that I never got around to going to (introvert problems). Little did I know that having your wisdom tooth brutally yanked out of your mouth can actually have a massive effect on said plans i.e meaning that since last Thursday I have had a puffed up, swollen face and a mouth full of stitches with an incredibly sore jaw meaning that I have had to resort to a liquid diet to maintain some form of energy. Before arriving at the Countess on Thursday for my op I had been sat pretty calmly watching Fullmetal Alchemist, thinking to myself, I’ll be in and out in like twenty minutes, they said it would be a quick procedure then I’m free again.

Oh, how wrong I was.

I think I realised this when the woman at reception popped a white wristband on my wrist…these were normally only for people having like actual surgery. Merde…

When I heard my name get called I reluctantly followed the nurse into a room where I was met by a whole team of dentists all sat in various positions at different levels, this made me think of an album photo shoot. What would their band be called, The Dentals? I wondered why I would need this many people for something so small…and why was there a big black bed and not a regular dentist type chair. Merde…

I was left alone with The Dentals as no one was allowed in the theatre. My parents had come with me to drive me home afterwards and when my mum left the room with my things I knew this was most certainly not going to be quick and simple.

I was originally told that I would need three or all four of my teeth removing, but I was told that it would be best to remove the bottom two but since I was just having general anaesthetic they just took the one out that day. Well bloody hell I’m glad they didn’t take any more! I had three needles jabbed into my mouth (worst nightmare for someone with a fear of needles) followed by a fourth as the anaesthetic wasn’t kicking in enough…wow, reassuring.

One of the nurses offered me her hand and I don’t think she had much circulation left once the tooth was finally out, after all the scraping and drilling. When the tooth was finally out the nurse asked me if I wanted to see it and I mumbled yeah, I wanted to see what had been causing me hell for this long. She held it in front of my face, yup, that’s a tooth, not a tiny demon…ew…

I was rather ill after the op and the liquid diet is not doing my body any good (smoothies, yogurt and soup…yum), but I think the main thing that got me down was having to miss out on all that I had planned to do in Chester over the weekend over a bloody tooth. Admittedly, I mostly just wanted to see some cute baby otters and penguins…

Fortunately, however, I had a good friend of mine who I met whilst living in Lyon come stay with me from Tuesday to Wednesday meaning I could show her around the lovely city I have called home for the past four (three, excluding my year abroad…) years.

After returning to mine from the station and having a quick drink and chat with my housemate we prepared ourselves for a lot of walking (the best way to get around Chester, it’s not a big city after all). We made our way into the city centre where we had a wander around the cathedral where I will be graduating in a matter of months before heading down Watergate Street to grab some fudge from the very popular Roly’s Fudge shop- nobody can resist the smell of the fresh, handmade fudge coming from this small hidden sugary treasure. After smelling all of this sugar it was time for some food. Chester has many great cafes, restaurants and bars. However, Hanky Panky Pancakes has become a popular over the past few years and with its wide selection of pancakes, toppings and drinks to go with one can understand why!

 

 

Wandering around the city centre, Roman Gardens and eating pancakes…

With our pancake fix and coffee boost we were ready to explore the rest of the city…well, after hitting a few of the shops of course…my friend had never been in TK Maxx and I needed to rectify this.

We found ourselves down by the river where we had a stroll through the park only to get chased by its many squirrels- these squirrels have no fear. Running out of the park and away from these fearless fluffballs we headed back over to the Eastgate Clock to take some photos and admire the rather gloomy view at one of Chester’s most iconic spots. By the time we had made it around to the racecourse our energy supplies were running low and hunger was beginning to set in and we decided it was time to drag ourselves back to mine for some pizza and some in house dancing (a common occurrence).

Walking around the city walls allowed me to appreciate the place I have spent my student years living in and although this weekend didn’t go to plan and I didn’t have one last fiesta Chester already holds so many memories for me. In reality I’m not even going too far. I think it’s more that this is the city that holds so much for me, my student years.

I’ve been spending some time back home with my parents to recuperate and it’s suddenly hit me that so many of the things I had gotten used to or had almost taken for granted I would not be doing anymore. I will no longer have my friends or housemates around on a daily basis. No more quick coffee catch ups before lectures. No more library sessions, lectures, studying…

After submitting my final assignment I felt this huge sense of release like I had made it this far and now I was free.

However, this sense of freedom is beginning to dwindle ever so slightly to be replaced by a form of loss, as though I’ve lost a part of my life and the people and things that come with it and in general just feeling lost. What’s next now?

As I’ve been thinking about this and wallowing in self pity and pain I’ve noticed how there is little discussion about this. More often than not I resort to books, films and series in times like these yet other than David Nicholls’ One Day (which I find mostly focuses on the romantic elements of the story) I cannot think of a book or film that focuses on university and what life is like afterwards…well, not that I know of at least (feel free to recommend any). The film and literature industry seems to stop at high school because after high school everybody lives happily ever after and then just skips straight to adulthood.

Strangely enough the answer to my problems appeared to me in an unlikely place…Saturday Kitchen Live. Rather groggily I sat on the settee watching tv Saturday morning and Caitlin Moran happened to appear on my screen and slurring like a bad drunk I waved at the telly, “that’s Caitlin Moran! Caitlin Moran!” What’s she doing on Saturday Kitchen Live? New book…Oh! *pre-orders book*

Caitlin Moran is one of my favourite writers and people in general and someone I seriously look up to. Her quirky sense of humour and quick feminist remarks got some muffled laughs out of my swollen and bloody mouth. Yet, it wasn’t just the images of Caitlin pulling faces of disgust when told she would be eating lychee berry pie and spitting it out like a cat with a fur ball. One of her comments reaffirmed one of the reasons why I bloody love this woman. Whilst discussing her writing she said how anyone can write and if you don’t really know what you’re doing just write anyway. Type away crazily in front of your keyboard like a deranged Kermit the Frog. So, that is what I’m going to do.

I feel like people skim over this period or jump past it all together, yet more needs to be said. Evidently not everyone falls straight into full time work or has some grad scheme lined up as soon as they’ve finished because many students have been so focused on uni and succeeding. Now, we have to come to terms with the fact that we are no longer students. After studying for so long it’s hard to immediately accept this transition into what is known as “the real world.” And it’s a scary place. Yet, it gives us plenty to write about. I believe that things will become clearer with time as the transition progresses, but for now I am going to take Caitlin’s advice and write. I may not be a writer as such but I have long done so and aspire to be better. Writing helps us in structuring our thoughts, ideas and opinions and seeing these in writing helps to motivate us and I know that this will help me to move forward on my path to who knows where.

I have so many memories from this huge period of my life and I will always hold onto them like I mentioned in my previous post (which you can read here), but I am curious to see what the future has to offer. Although there is a whole lot of uncertainty floating over me right now I am trying not to focus on that. For now achieving the small goals I am setting myself are enough to keep me on my path and as long as I don’t stray I hope things will work out. The path is a windy one sure, but as long as I don’t trip and roll into a pit somewhere I’m sure I’ll see the sun past the clouds.

Yet, don’t go chasing the sun because we are our own source of light. We just don’t know that because we have been too busy searching for it somewhere else.

Peace and love xo

 

Moments

This time tomorrow I will have finished my final assessment meaning my experience at university will be over.

The past couple of days have been extremely emotional. Seeing some faces that I’ve been used to having around me for the past four years for the last time for what feels like is going to be a good while now has been very strange and surreal. For me there are certain moments that stay with us, that we hold onto and I have experienced a few of these moments lately. Going on a night out with “The Original Four” which has taken four years to get around to where we finally got the compulsory Chester student photo on the elephant, wearing a dress I had not been wearing at the start of the night. Town was quiet, with many students already having moved back home or prepping for exams. We had the dance floor to ourselves and for a girl who rarely makes it out past nine, I will always remember us having a group hug whilst music blared around us and couples made out in the corner and realising that this is it now, we are coming to the end.

Compulsory Chester student photo with the elephant.

The two nights that followed I didn’t sleep, meaning that I was extremely delusional when it came around to Leaver’s Drinks and photos which had been arranged by the department for Friday. It was great seeing everyone in one room- we had all shared this experience together, these were the people who had made these four years what they have turned out to be, whether it be those I’m close to or have just shared the odd lecture with. We all knew each other somehow, our department was a close knit family. Not only was I suffering from lack of sleep but had barely eaten meaning I was craving something greasy and covered in cheese. Some of us ordered pizza and sat in our main building which was empty, something we weren’t used to and took the opportunity to kart wheel down the corridor and throw some yoga shapes. I felt like I was back in school, doing things we had wanted to do but never done for fear of getting in trouble or spotted by teachers.

As I have been so busy clutching onto these moments I have not thought much about the future and how I should be preparing for it. I have been finding it hard to find a routine and get motivated, I’m not used to having this much free time. I have spent a lot of time writing and making my way slowly through my to read pile. Recently I finished reading Girl, Interrupted and this book hit me hard.

I wish I would have had this book in my life sooner as it is such a brilliant read and also does a brilliant job of portraying issues surrounding mental health through Kaysen’s own experience. Now, in my previous post I did have a mini rant about 13 Reasons Why (which you can read here) and how it’s raised discussion about mental health. People, step away from the tapes and step back into the 60s. I found this book shows how much things have changed in relation to mental health, but also how things are very much the same. I spent a whole afternoon reading the book and hardly put it down until reaching page 153. Here Kaysen had put into words something that for so long I have tried to describe but never quite been able to. The behaviours she describes reminded me of my younger self, taking up behaviours I wasn’t even conscious of. Back when I was in school I went through bad phases like many other teens and things only began to get better sometime over my Year abroad, even though I still struggle now. On one particular day my boyfriend at the time confronted me after school. He lifted up my arm and pulled down my sleeve slightly, expecting to see something that wasn’t there.

The person I was back then was frustrated, lonely and depressed. I used to wear a lot of bracelets and hair bobbles around my wrist and on days where I was particularly anxious or down I would begin to snap these against my wrist. Something a lot of people commonly do but sometimes in class I would zone out and do this repeatedly, hard enough to leave small, blue bruises, occasionally breaking skin if metal made contact hard enough. I would see these as a sort of reminder that I’m still here, that I exist. Other days I would scratch out of frustration and anxiety. I never took it much further, I wasn’t one for blood. I remember once I was running down the school corridor alongside fellow classmates on our way to class. I swung my bag off my shoulder and went to put it on the window ledge where we all left our bags. As I put mine down I noticed there was blood running down my hand from a gash in my knuckle which had begun to turn blue and swell. I stared at it for a while before asking a confused teacher if I could go to first aid. I barely felt the throbbing in my hand, I was just sort of dazed by it. There was blood in my veins.

The one thought I have had toward the future the past couple of days is that I don’t want to be the person I was back then. Yet, I’m scared and admitted this last week. I don’t want to have to face that version of myself again. I say that people don’t change, but I have come a long way since then and I don’t want to have to go back to that. However, despite this I can envisage myself curled up in the dark in a matter of weeks, trapped in uncertainty and doubt. I don’t want my life to be that again. This past year, despite its difficulties has been one of the best and I have felt the happiest I have been, because although this chapter of my life may be coming to an end I am so grateful for all that I have experienced and the amazing people I have gotten to know and who have supported me along the way.

It’s funny, what moments we hold onto. After all, theses are just memories. They are no longer present, just what we think was once real, our mind’s interpretation of what has passed. Some we want to cherish, others follow us as reminders of the person we once were but stand as a lesson, that we can be someone better.

I don’t want to be that girl, trapped between those four walls again, grounded by pain. Pain reminds us we are alive but we should not live through pain. We should live through those moments we cherish and the people around us. Living is laughing, dancing, singing, jumping on the cold statue of an elephant under streetlights. It is learning. Growing. Breathing. Simply being.

Life has a lot to offer us, it’s up to us how we want to go about it.

Peace and love xo

At twenty-two

I remember turning twenty, leaving my teen-hood behind, and being told that the best years of my life were about to begin. For a time I believed this. So much waited for me in my twenties- I would live abroad, finish uni, buy a car, graduate and begin an exciting career which will allow me to move out and become fully independent.

Ha what bullsh#t.

Here I am at twenty-two wallowing in self-loathing after being rejected from yet another job, soaked and dripping wet with mascara running down my face as I walk home in the pouring rain. Frustrated I slam the door, throw my bags down and look at myself in the mirror with drenched clothes clinging to me, my hair dripping wet and black mascara smudged under my eyes. But, hey, at least the rain didn’t wash away my eyebrows. I wonder why I even bothered. Staring at my reflection I ask myself what is wrong with me? Am I really this worthless, so pathetic? Yes, I answer as I sink to the floor where I sit and remain for a while, unable to do much else other than be silent.

Here I am at twenty-two with my degree more or less at my fingertips, with no career lined up, no car and no place of my own.

Here I am at twenty-two sick of being asked what I am going to do with my degree, of being asked if I’ll be a teacher or a translator, of being asked if there was any point…I ask myself that question enough already lately. I’m sick of being pushed back when I should be moving forward. It feels like there’s this huge weight pressing down on me and preventing me from moving, just keeping me stable and stuck in the position I’m in, like I’m some precious piece of paper with ink spilled across it with a paper weight sitting at its corner. It doesn’t matter how much ink you pour over me, I will never be art. The weight will never be lifted to hang me on your wall.

Over these next couple of weeks I feel like I need to pack in as much as I can whilst I am still able to do so, before I have to worry about how I’m going to afford to do all of these things later on. Last summer, I devised a list of things I would like to do before I turn thirty (which you can read here) and nearly a year later I have not been able to tick off a single one. I look at this list and wonder what the hell was going through my head when I made it and where I thought the money to do half of these things would come from over the next nine years. Well, now I’m left with eight to figure this out.

Our twenties are filled with pressures, stress and uncertainties- we’re old enough to be classed as adults yet looked down upon for the generation we come from. We are expected to have our whole lives planned out and have our sh#t together yet will be denied opportunities because we don’t have enough experience as we were too busy earning and working for our education since infancy. As a child we are thrown into the education system and are bound there until at least the age of sixteen and for many of us we carry on to help improve our future prospects. But, as well as this we are expected to have years of work experience as well as our qualifications, be fluent in multiple languages, have good ‘people skills’ and be able to balance on our heads and shoot rainbows from our arses. If anything our twenties teaches us to work ourselves so hard to the point of cutting our hair off over the bathroom sink.

Back in school we were so eager to grow up. Sick of school and exams, believing that by the time we hit eighteen we would be free, because we would be adults. We will have moved out, know how to drive and we will be able to buy our own alcohol instead of drinking WKD in a field somewhere. Oh, sweet teen babies, you have one of the things that comes close to freedom in this world- the naivety of youth. Don’t get me wrong, I know the hardships of being a teenager, having puberty hit you like a brick wall is no fun after all. As a teen we feel misunderstood and wish our time away, yet we will never be truly understood- the search for identity is an ongoing battle. If only we would have known what was waiting ahead. I would ask why they don’t teach us these things in school, but I feel like the trauma would be too much.

The other day I watched my friends hand in their dissertations as I have not had to write one myself. One of our lecturers walked past us and instead of congratulating my friends I heard her say, “now real life begins.” We all glanced at each other and laughed it off, but deep inside we were all thinking, “sh#t.”

I guess that’s what the real world is to us.

I imagine myself being kicked to the curb, rejected once again, holding my degree saying, “but, look! I worked hard, I studied- I put so much effort into this piece of paper!” and being left abandoned at the roadside.

At twenty-two, I feel like I’ve learnt that you’ve got to fight to make it in this corrupt world we live in- we’ve got to fight for what we want. Anger and frustration is fighting talk- you gotta turn that into fuel which will light up your passions. Maybe, one day the ink will ignite and burn up my passions and show them to the word, because right now it seems they aren’t shining bright enough to point me in the right direction or to let me be seen.

Ignite your passions and let the white hot sparks fall from you like fireworks. Then they will see you. They will see us.

Peace and love xo