Storm in a teacup

“I forgive people but that doesn’t mean I accept their behaviour or trust them. I forgive them for me, so I can let go and move on with my life.”  — Meg Jarvis.   Image courtesy of Artidote/ Eryn Lou.  Evening all! Firstly, I'm going to start with an apology. Recently my life has been unbelievably busy and my writing has took somewhat of a backseat. I have managed to lose my journal amongst the move so all previous scribblings are somewhere in the abyss. I've had a few semi-epiphanies of late and fresh out of the shower it's time to share them. Settle down with a fruity beverage and your favourite playlist, I have a feeling it's going to be a long one.. In the past month I have managed to lose a couple of friends. It's a shame because it is not, at all a loss to me. I don't think lose is the correct term for what has happened in all honesty. After my meltdown and lifestyle reform I realised all we ever really did together was get fucked up and talk ...

I've had a little break from writing recently due to a rather severe blockage and lack of time, but I'm back (following a kick up the arse from a lovely chap) kids. It's a rambly update on my mundane life and kudos to anyone who bothers to read I suppose. Settle down with a brew 'cause here comes another overshare.. I've been sober over a month. I'm back in full time (ish) work. I'm feeling all round, healthier. I've successfully changed my lifestyle, and I'm bloody proud. Yet with all this going on I've still been rather blue. Granted, my depression has not been anywhere near as deep or as painful as it was, but it's still very much a part of my day to day life. Currently I'm just devoid of emotion and not really feelin' myself. If I'm completely honest I'm struggling to write right now, but in an attempt to get back to where I was, I'm giving it a go. So first off, sobriety update. I have actually managed a full...

So kids, today I left my job. A lot of questions have been asked and I'm growing rather weary of answering them individually so, here's a lil FAQ style piece to clear it up..  (that doubles as a farewell to all the lovely faces I've seen around) What will you do now? I've worked since I was 16. Not always hard, admittedly. I dropped out of college to work full time in the pub because my desire for money was stronger than my desire for higher education. At the time it was the right decision. I wasn't applying myself to any of my work and I changed subjects almost every term. Not one of my (numerous) courses was relevant to any career I fleetingly fancied. With that said, I've never truly known what I want to do. I have wanted to be a teacher, a lawyer, a chef, a publican, a plumber and most recently a counsellor, I still have no set path. Right now, I'm still employed by the pub and I will spend some time there, figuring out where I want to be, just o...

I waited a year to write this letter. I let all the pain simmer down, to gratitude. In the past twelve months you have gone from my only thought to not even a second thought. You have become, my love, a character in a tale from times gone by. An experience and a memory of who I used to be. You probably wont read this, nor any of my work. If one of our mutual friends mentions it, you probably wouldn't even bother to ask what is said. You'll expect anger and accusations, please understand, this is neither of those. It is a letter of appreciation and good will. When we first met I thought nothing of you other than the good looking guy who tipped well and wore tight T-shirts. You were the drunken fool, clumsily trying to court me. You'd lean over me, smiling when I selected Rod Stewart on the jukebox. If anything, this is what made me agree to join you and your friends on a night out after I had finished my shift (after you had wore me down over a matter of weeks) You seem...

It's Saturday night! No work tomorrow, (Possibly, undecided on how much OT I wanna put in at the mo, and I have a new tattoo booked for tomorrow night so..) historically my Saturday nights have consisted of an evening of flirtations, throwaway romances. Tonight I am going to the pub sober. Before I get out of my comfy jeans and turtle neck I figured I'd write about my pulling pattern. . (I don't expect many of you to be spending your Saturday night reading my blog.. I'll see you in the morning, perhaps?) Right off the bat, I am a fucking nightmare. I'll be head over heels, chasing my poor, unsuspecting victims, interrogating them with varied questions about their opinions, experiences and beliefs. Trying to get a glimpse inside their mind. I fall in love with all of my crushes, but often it's a friendship love. I still speak to many of my encounters. I offer them advice on where to take their dates and fill them in on mine! I have this desire, you see, ...

(This is a letter I wrote to myself some time ago, to remind me on my worst days that I matter) Hey doll, it's been a long day right?  I expect right now, you just want to close your eyes for a while. Please, before you do, just stop and read this. You are tired and scared, but you are tired because you have been a warrior for so long now, you've been treating water daily to keep your head amongst oxygen, flailing aimlessly at invisible foes, stabbing at your tiring heart. Sweetheart, it would be impossible to shine so bright without ever dimming once in a while. It's easy to say don't worry, it's going to get better, it probably won't help right now but the reality is, it will, but it may not be straight away. Right now just breathe and remember, remember how beautiful spring can be. How throughout the winter the world is so cold, the branches of the aged trees barren, reaching desperately for their armoury of leaves. This season of blues goes on for so...

Evening my little darlings, it has been a long, yet mostly wonderful day. Today I'm going to talk about my fear of being alone. Until recently I've been content alone. Only in my deepest of depressions have I felt the need to be surrounded by people. Often I was found happier alone with a needle and thread, or with a decent book and some form of alcoholic beverage. Recently however, the thought of being home alone makes my hands clam up, my chest tightens, I start texting around to see if anyone wants to do anything. I do not want to be alone with my thoughts. Even as I lay in bed, I plug in my earphones and listen to repeats of Peep Show. (V, V, V, good distraction TV guys) .. In order to convey how the fear takes over, I thought it would be easiest to show you in the form of my most recent panic.. Those who know me well know I have recently begun staying with my sister until I feel safe enough to go back solo so I haven't had to face the silence, nor the absence o...

So, all too frequently I have been finding myself speaking of the things that cause me pain. My anguish, laid out for all to see. It's time today perhaps to try something new. It's time to talk about the strong women who have inspired me over the years.. Some of my inspirations are rather obvious, others not so much. I understand none of the following women have moved mountains, they haven't completely flipped the system, but they're all fucking bad ass women, who live and breathe the definition of strength. 1) If you are a regular reader, you probably saw this coming.. Rupi Kaur Never have another's words touched me so deeply. She opened my heart to poetry. Her way of taking something usually spoke of in hushed tones, behind closed doors and making it an art form. How she speaks so openly of masturbation, rape, the taboo of menstruation is awe inspiring. She can take something usually construed as no more than dirty secrets, things to be shared only with lo...