Tag: thinking

Perspective

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After yesterday’s upset and a hellish day today I wanted to change my perspective. This quote caught my eye and I thought, yeah ok I’m going to embrace this. I’d been clinging on to those summer clothes since I was in college so not being able to fit into them and getting upset was silly. I didn’t want yesterday to define today and I don’t want the let downs of today to define tomorrow.

So I did something to change my perspective on the little bit of weight, I went shopping for shorts. Shorts! I don’t care any more, I don’t care about my stretch marks anymore because I put those shorts on and I looked good, real damn good. I’m going to use the disappointing grade to make sure I work even harder next year so that I get higher grades. I’m going to try and change this into something positive.

Image from Pinterest.

Sundays

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Sunday evenings always seem to make me sit and reflect a lot. Last year I wrote a really long and kind of trying to understand my own mind (if you missed it here is the link). Sometimes I use this blog to manage how I’m feeling or what I’m thinking about, because I just need to get it out there.

When I was a little girl Sundays were exciting, I got to go to work with Mum and Nanna, unless my Aunt could look after me for the day, which she did a lot. I got to go help out on the stall and serve customers or sit in the car with the bag of colouring, notepads and books that I had bought to keep me entertained. The older I got I could go and explore what other people were selling. Or failing that me, Mum, Nanna and Sums would be up and in the car for 7.30 and would go and look at the car boot sales, where I would find things to sell on and make a profit. That is until it got to a point where I’d fallen in love with sleep, I’d stay at home with the dog and we’d share breakfast.

When I was a teenager I hated Sundays, I’d cry, have a terrible low, fight with my sister and look at the numbers on my wall to see how many days that I absolutely had to be in school I had left (holidays, INSET days, weekends, anything that meant I didn’t have to be there wasn’t counted because I was free). It was terrible I’d usually have to listen to my iPod while falling asleep, cry some more and that was that. I’d almost always try on Mondays. I’d try to go to school like a good girl and hope that this day, this week would be different and I wouldn’t be so crushingly sad any more. Needless to say it rarely changed.

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Taken when I was about 16, a cuddle day with the dog was normal

Through the week Mum and I would make bargains with depressed me to make her go to school. It mostly consisted of when I’d get to see Ali and sometimes it worked. It got better though, after I’d hit bad lows I’d have to work from home, meaning I got better. Then I’d go back to school and it would all happen again, I’d get chipped away piece by piece until I was physically ill again. Now I know it was the depression but I just thought I had a super low immune system. Sundays were always the days where I would try so desperately hard again.

Now I kind of like them, I usually have a day where I just do things for myself, lie ins with Ali after he’s been working late or it’s post gig day. I get my reading finished for the week ahead and look forward to seeing my friends and whatever I’ve planned that week. It’s a far cry from the anxiety ridden days of school.

I know this post is super reflective, but I’ve been thinking about the old me a lot this afternoon while reading ‘The Time In Between’ by Nancy Tucker about her battle with eating disorders. I will be reviewing it because it’s incredible. I read a lot of books like this about overcoming and wonder if, one day, I should write everything down, even if it’s just for me. I wonder if anyone would even be interested in reading that? If by telling my story of when I was younger up until now I would be helping anybody? Am I ready to share everything? It’s a crazy thought and I’m really not sure whether it’s just a silly thing or whether it would be cathartic to get everything out.I don’t know but, there we go my exploring my life Sunday brain is in force. I don’t mind it as much now though, because I don’t dread the week ahead like I used to 🙂

Tomorrow will be interesting, my wheelchair is arriving, another doctors appointment (I hope she’s ready for my super anxious mind) and I have to say goodbye to Alissa before she goes back to the US *sniff, sniff*. Hopefully speak to you guys tomorrow.Oh! Before I forget. You guys have been awesome this past week, likes commenting, I love it, thank you! If you have any ideas on the ‘should I write out my life’ thing then let me know belooooooow. As always I love chatting with you all.

It’s not just escaping

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I’ve been back from Durham for a few hours now, I’m sitting at my laptop willing for something to jump onto the page. I have a few more quotes, a plan of ideas but they won’t go into words, into the essay that I’m so desperate to finish. It’s taken a few hours to start to get anxious about what’s coming, I have assignments to do, gigs to organise, work, blog and all these things. I need to stop and breathe.

I’ve written before about being tired, and that’s partly to blame for my stressed out mood right now. I don’t know why but getting away has always made me relax, made sure that I could think straight. I’m not going to lie to you all and say yep as soon as I get away I’m fine and happy and don’t get worried, I do. For the first day and a half in Durham I had this horrible twisting ball of anxiety inside me, for the whole of the first evening Ali’s Gran kept asking if I was feeling ok. I wanted to be perfectly ok and normal, maybe I was trying too hard. I just wanted everyone to like me, to make a good impression again. It did work, Ali’s family were all lovely and kind and treated me like I belonged, so the feelings went away.

I guess I’m writing this to say that I worked out a long time ago, you can’t just run away from the things that are hard but sometimes a little distance from the things worrying you is a good start.I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again, it’s all ups and downs. For now I think I should take myself off to bed for the night, I have another long drive tomorrow.

Trying to be ‘perfect’

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We all want to be ‘perfect’, come on you know that in some way you do whether that be career, family, image or anything like that. I’ve been back at uni for two weeks and the familiar anxieties have started to creep in, am I doing enough? Am I going to get a good degree? Will I be able to get onto MA? Will I be able to get a job? Theses are things a lot of students think about a lot of the time, but sometimes that doesn’t make it any easier.

I’ve been musing over what to write for the past two days when I received a notification that Hannah Gale had just written a post about trying to be the best, in the low mood I was in I was curious. I started to read and I couldn’t stop, Hannah had just put it all in perspective for me. Although I’ve never met her I just wanted to hug her and go YES SOMEONE UNDERSTANDS HOW I FEEL! I’m constantly putting pressure on myself to best the best, to try and be just a little bit perfect, but that doesn’t work for me.

I always put pressure on myself to do well, I don’t know where it comes from because I’ve never had those kinds of pushy parents. My Mum’s words for me were ‘do what makes you happy, if you’re happy I’m happy’ and so I chose everything I have today, she never forced me to do anything despite visiting Kingston endless times with me so I could be sure she just wanted me to be happy. None of my family have been academics and it’s fair to say that by year 11 no one thought I was going to be an academic, maybe that’s what spurred me on, being the kid who people thought would get no where.

So I work on and on and on. Everyone tells me to take a break but I just have such high standards for myself, all the time. I don’t regret it but I’m learning to love myself a bit more which for me means not being so hard on myself. Not getting angry when I have a low or don’t do as well as I planned or have to stay in bed because I’m sick. After pushing myself for years and being that kind of person it’s hard but step by step I’m getting there. I’m planning trips around Europe, writing again and honestly trying to get through the hurdles as best I can.

One day I’ll let go of ‘perfect’ and 100% appreciate happy for what it is.

Writer life.

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I’d love to tell you all that all I do in life is write. That would be lying. I wish I could get up in the morning, open my laptop with a cup of tea and write page upon, page of an amazing novel which will sell millions of copies. That said I do write every day on this blog, songs, lists, notes. The most important part of that is the song writing.

When I can’t deal with life and I’m spiralling or even if I feel really happy I pick up a pen, or my laptop and I just put the pain (or lack of it) onto paper. I have a box of old lyrics books, scribbled notes here and there and if you go through either my room here or at home you’ll find diaries, old stories and piles of lyrics. I don’t know why but writing to me is one of the most incredible and liberating thing. If I want, no one will ever see some of the things I have written or everyone could.

Do I want to write something that would be a best seller? Of course I do. I don’t know if it will ever happen, but I might try. I might end up sitting in the uni library in the silence for hours and come out with nothing worth reading to anyone else. It’s just for me.

The songs are a different matter. I put the words on to paper and everyone who comes to our shows will hear what I feel. Some songs, like Breaking Point, are something I came up with because of the people around me and then later people I imagined, other songs are entirely different. If you look at Good Enough, which I was immensely proud of, it was really personal and the newest songs that we’re working on are even more so. It’s taken a year for me to not feel sick when I sing the boys my ideas for the first time, because it’s so personal to me. I know how ‘artistic’ of me, but this is me pouring my heart on to a page.

I don’t know what it is but I wrote a post ages ago, life through my fingers, about how it was the only way to make myself feel better. I said playing Piano wasn’t like writing and it’s not but I was wrong in some aspects. When I write some things, like this, I just write whatever and that how almost every creative thing of mine starts, I don’t think too hard at first. That’s a trait that used to get me in so much trouble during Art lessons at school, nearly 5 years since my GCSEs and I’m still like it…and why I didn’t take Art any further.

Writing, in all it’s beautiful ways is tiring, frustrating, liberating…sometimes everything.

I am not ashamed.

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Today I had to do something I’ve never had the courage to do. I was honestly with an employer about my mental health. I stood up for making myself feel better and I’m hoping I’ve made the right choice. I’ve left my job on the hotline because it wasn’t right for me and honestly it was too much. I’ve got some other things going on helping out in a different department that won’t be so emotionally stressful on me. 

I am not ashamed of who I am. I have an illness that can be medically treated and I’m registered with that illness. Just because it is in my head does not mean I should lie or cover up about it, although I’ve been guilty in the past of doing this. Mental illness is something that many people don’t understand and many people don’t know how to handle it. I was very well treated when I explained to my boss and he was very good about it and said feel free to re apply for the position when I felt better and in a place to deal with the emotional demands. 

I wanted to share a success story because there aren’t many. I don’t know how much I’ll talk about my illness when I go into full time work in a few years and it’s true it does depends on who and where you work as to how you are treated. I am not embarrassed and not ashamed because although I have an awful time I can still bring things to a company, sometimes that others won’t have thought of. 

I am me and I am not ashamed.

When I write

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Sometimes when I don’t know what else to do, I write. The last few weeks have been incredibly up and down and today things just kind of came to a jolt. I didn’t really want to get up, I didn’t feel like going anywhere or doing anything and everything was just so overwhelming. I get angry about it, I feel sad about it and it usually ends in me feeling like I don’t like myself that much. So tonight I wrote a song and released everything. I don’t feel much like writing right now, so hopefully I’ll speak to you all soon. 

What to do now?

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I’ve realised just how much of the summer holidays I have left. Still over 2 months until I go back to classes. I don’t want my blog to get boring but I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do with the next few months. I have a lot to look forward to, I’m working next month, I have Reading festival, I want to read more, write more songs, spend some time with my family, move into the new flat. 

I can see now how many friends I really have, although a lot of them have gone home for the summer I’m excited for the next uni year. I am lucky enough to have some friends in my home town such as the wonderful Jen who I met up with today after her knee surgery. Despite having a painful operation she looked as beautiful as ever and I can’t wait for her to be living just around the corner from me! We’re already planning our nights out. I have a lot of things I want to do but right now I feel a little stuck about where to start. We’ll just have to wait and see. 

My night time musings

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I’ve wanted to write something amazing, incredible and thoughtful. I want to write a book, more songs and d everything right now. I’ve been working lately, I’ve been happier than I have been in a very long time and I have so much to be thankful for. The flat is silent right now, I’m the last one left but I can hear people outside. 

I don’t know if I’ll be sad to leave this place, I’ve felt very isolated here and very lonely I think I’ll miss the halls in Kingston Hill more because of all the memories I made. Saying that I do feel strange that in September this will be someone else room, someone elses normal. I’ll have moved on and I probably will never meet them or know what their flat mates are like. This room is for growing, it’s a temporary place and that’s something I’m not used to but now I like that. It’s been my own space for a year and it’s seen awful lows and incredible highs lately. 

I’m so looking forward to second year, to moving in with Ali and have spent the day setting things up for next year. It will be totally different and I really just want to stay happy and well keep feeling like the real me that I’ve been searching for for years. 

So farewell first year, I’ve loved  you and hated you, I won’t be back for Seething Wells though! 

Last Day of Placement/ Pre night out nerves

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A lesson plan I wrote up… I ended up not using it!

I wrote earlier in the week about the fact that I’ve decided not to become a teacher any time soon. I finished my placement today and had a fairly easy day and I still feel the same. The 15 days that I’ve done have made me realise that I love working with children but I couldn’t be a teacher. I want to work with children but on a smaller scale, maybe even as a teaching assistant? I also didn’t get the feedback I wanted which is a shame but that’s not to say I wouldn’t go back and work in a school again.

This is just a quick and early blog tonight because I’m finally going out with some girls! The lovely Daniela invited me to meet some of the girls who will be in full field English with me next year and I’m really nervous. Let’s hope my bowling skills are up to the task!