• Communication,  personal,  pointless theories of an unoccupied brain

    A Rollercoaster of Emotions

    So far, 2018 is proving unexpectedly stressful. In case you couldn’t gather from my last post, I’ve been having a couple of weeks where my waking thoughts have been consumed by one worry or another, and my nights have been spent dreaming of strange amalgamations of the same worries. It’s just wrong; the nightmare equivalent of a giraffe with elephant legs and a crocodile snout. Honestly, even when I’m not stressed I have a certain amount of The Fear running through me like a low voltage current. I overthink everything until it makes no sense to me. I overthink and overthink and overthink until my thoughts end up in the…

  • Communication,  life lessons,  open letter,  personal

    Notes for a Younger Me

    When I look at photographs of myself when I was younger, I experience a strange, out-of-body feeling. It doesn’t feel like I’m looking at myself. It feels like I’m looking at someone else. The child of someone I know, maybe, or a distant relative. It doesn’t feel like me. Sometimes this slightly freaks me out, because it makes me wonder if this is how it will always be. In twenty years’ time will I look at photos of myself now and feel like a different person? Will I have changed that much? Will I feel like the experiences and memories and thoughts of Now Me are so removed and foreign…

  • friends,  personal,  shopping

    Retail Therapy

    Yesterday I bought myself an uncharacteristically pink jumper. I am not really a pink person. I can probably count on one hand the number of pink items in my wardrobe, and they are all varying versions of “nude”. ‘Girlie‘ isn’t really my style, partly because I was raised to think ‘girlie’ was a synonym for ‘simpering halfwit’ and partly because now that I know that’s not the case I feel… unworthy. Floral, ruffled, pink things with bows are for delicate, graceful butterfly people who can braid their own hair and wear white without getting stained in the first five minutes, not galloping whirlwinds of disaster who wear black to disguise…

  • personal,  Thoughts on...

    Temper, Temper

    I have anger issues. Or rather, I have a single anger issue. It’s not an issue clouded in a dangerous red haze, that bursts from my forehead like the emotional descendant of Athena, explosively demanding TO SPEAK TO THE MANAGER! No. It’s the other kind of issue. My anger issue is that I am not terribly good at expressing my anger. Either I am emotionally involved – in which case my eyes invariably leak in a way that looks suspiciously like crying but is, in fact, just a watery expression of intense frustration – or I am not emotionally involved, in which case I would just rather not, thankyouverymuch. Here…

  • personal,  Thoughts on...

    Staying Alive

    The other day, while out walking with a friend, we took a detour on our way home and found ourselves in an old cemetery. It was, as she put it, the sort of place Tom Riddle might show up to challenge you to a wand duel. The ground, bulging with overgrown roots, was uneven and covered over with long blades of grass that soaked us to the ankles. Most of the engravings on the oldest headstones were illegible; the inscriptions had been gently buffed to smoothness by the passing of time. Speckled with lichen and pushed by either weather or slowly shifting soil, the stones leaned drunkenly at different angles.…

  • personal,  so that happened,  Uncategorized

    2018

    We are now in 2018. Welcome everybody! Grab a glass of bubbly! I’m glad we both made it. It’s so good to see you again! I always start the new year with a niggling feeling like I just barely made it through a stargate and am now standing in a random field, swinging my arms, wondering what happens next. I swear I spend the first week of the year with a cloud above my head that says, ‘NOW WHAT?’ in bubble lettering. Even though the passing of a year is fairly arbitrary. Even though it makes no real difference. Even though it should just be a continuation of what came before,…

  • birthday,  personal,  Thoughts on...,  unbirthday

    Birthdays, Waiting Days & Holidays

      On Wednesday it was my birthday. I always feel slightly unworthy on my birthday, like I didn’t do enough to deserve the ‘happy birthday!’s flung my way. I feel like I should have accomplished something great this past year and I just… haven’t. I feel like I didn’t do sufficient good this year, as a human. I didn’t contribute enough. I am lacking, somehow. Still, as with every year, it’s just made me more determined to knuckle down this coming year. I will blaze through 2018! Hopefully! ….My resolutions start early. To date, I think this might be my least organised Christmas yet! As things currently stand, some of…

  • personal,  so that happened

    Dealing With Disordered Eating

    When I turned five, I lost my appetite. I don’t mean that I lost it after a particularly nauseating meal only to regain it when confronted with a slice of cake. I don’t mean that I carelessly misplaced it behind a bush somewhere, only to find it again five hours later during a fortuitous game of hide and seek. I mean that one day I went to bed after eating my dinner, and the next morning I woke up without any hint of my appetite. It had simply packed up and left in the night. It hadn’t left a note of explanation, or been prompted by anything that I can think…

  • personal,  so that happened

    Memento Mori

      When I was small(er than I am now), I went on a good many roadtrips with my father. Not to sound too twee about it, but these car journeys often led down long and curving country roads flanked by hedgerows and higgledy-piggledy stone walls and endless green fields. There were no streetlights or footpaths. Houses whizzed by at a predictable, rhythmic pace. Field, field, house. Field, field, house. Field, field, house. We sped through the countryside listening to Kris Kristofferson or the soundtrack from The Big Chill. I loved it. I still do. Once I leave the last streetlight behind I always feel a little bit more free until…

  • personal

    A Christmas Limbo

      I love Christmas. I LOVE it. I love it the same way boy racers love souped-up cars with LED strips, or the way crazy horse people love horses with braids. It is a strong, evergreen, slightly irrational love. Every year I get tingles of excitement when I decorate the house. I shamelessly sing* along to Christmas carols at home (and sometimes shamefully in public), and I often have to pull over to fully absorb the giddiness the comes over me when I see a particularly overdecorated house. Each December I pick a colour scheme for the tree and go all in. Last year was metallics; gold and silver and twinkling…