Category Archives: Thoughts

WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT THE ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM

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The past few months have been an absolute whirlwind of exciting changes, ginger jokes* and falling completely and unexpectedly in love. But the past month or so, I’ve been so concerned with other things that something monumentally important has slipped my priority list when it should have been pride of place at the top.

I’ve been a little unsteady, in myself. My mental health became something I took for granted in recent years. Because speaking as someone who battled with their own brain for years, I thought my days at war were long behind me, however, it turns out that it’s very easy to take your eye off the ball.

I’ve noticed myself falling asleep later at night, waking up later during the day and sleeping more than the average human being should. I truly feel on the brink of a 4-year-old-kid style nap at any given minute throughout the day.

Life in itself has begun to overwhelm me, but nothing in particular to pinpoint a root cause of such anxiety. Because let’s face it, ol’ Brainbox is nothing if not vague and unpredictable. But this particular feeling no longer feels familiar to me and I’m no longer the sassy genius I used to be at dealing with such occurrences.

My biggest mistake so far has been subconsciously avoiding this, shoving the big luminous purple elephant in the room to my peripheral vision and pushing on through, wasting weeks by doing nothing. Never taking the ‘me’ time to do any of the things I love (I don’t know how many times I’ve sat down to write and felt too drained to make words like a big girl), not sleeping on a schedule that means I can spend any great valuable time with my family, letting household chores sit around until the last possible millisecond and then feeling guilty when Greig gets there first. If there’s one thing I need to remind myself, it’s that I can’t run away from my own brain.

As I write this it’s 5 am and I can’t help but gaze at the freakishly tall human peacefully unaware beside me, feeling flooded with all the happy-gooey kinda’ feels he causes. But it’s then I remember my unwashed hair, Toy Story pyjamas (that I’m only wearing half of, because I was too exhausted to find the other 50% of Disney goodness) and I’ll barely be awake long enough to tell him about the happy-gooey feels. And truthfully that’s what’s got me writing this here long-winded post…

We all need to talk about the big purple elephant in the room more often. We need to break down this stigma that still lingers around us all like a big judgey raincloud and become more aware of our own personal warning signs, and not become complacent with being “okay”.

So this is my pact with you angelic lil’ nuggets to start tackling this elephant head on, no more silent wallowing, no more hiding away and certainly no more sleeping away the best years of my life.

It’s time to be OK, puddin’.

*EXTRA INFO: Greig’s very much tarred with a ginger brush.

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VALENTINES DAY

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Today marked my aunt and uncle’s 30th Valentine’s Day together. (Way to go guys, I can’t even commit to a sandwich for the duration of lunch!) Today also marked yet another Valentine’s Day which has fallen during a period where I’m single. However, that does not in any way mean that I’ve spent today moping, nor have I taken to social media in a bid to declare my recurring singleton status as I have witnessed so many people do today.

I started my day with a small time-related freakout, wondering at which point in my year I sneezed and completely missed January, before making the calculated decision to give today to myself. Why on earth should anyone out there spend a day intended for the celebration of love, feeling terrible about themselves? It just doesn’t make sense, bubs. Listen to your embarrassing Aunt Alice.

So I stayed in my pyjamas, gathered up the dog for a marathon cuddle and put on a box set I’ve been meaning to finish for three billion months. I proceeded to demolish a pack of Sour Patch Kids and call my good friends at Domino’s. Now, to many that may sound like that a bummer of a day, but to me it was the epitome of self-care. A shower at a temperature deemed unsafe for human habitation and a dance around the living room in my underwear to the cheesiest, most in your face, love related pop-songs. Because let’s face it, what’s a better addition to any day than screaming Whitney Houston at a pitch that only dogs are physically capable of hearing?

We’ve got to stop putting the kind of pressure this holiday brings upon ourselves girlies, it’s a celebration of love and how on earth are we able to commit to loving another human being if we can’t show ourselves a little first. So, let your best friends be your valentine’s, eat your favourite food and worry about the calorie counting another day, watch your favourite shows and sing your best cheesy anthems.

And just in case you need a little push in the right direction, here are a few of my personal unbelievably cheesy faves, which my family have begged me to stop singing three times tonight:

  • Like A Prayer – Madonna
  • Nothing Compares 2 U – Sinead O’Connor
  • Breakfast At Tiffany’s – Deep Blue Something
  • Take My Breath Away – Berlin
  • Hooked On A Feeling – Blue Swede
  • I Will Always Love You – Whitney Houston
  • Love Is All Around – Wet Wet Wet
  • Everything I Do, I Do It For You – Bryan Adams
  • Eternal Flame – The Bangles

THE LIFE AND DEATH OF ROMANCE

To have grown up into a culture where terms such as ‘side chick’ are commonplace, I can’t help but feel horrendously out of place. Growing up, I was the typical delusional Disney child who’d been convinced by our good friend Walt that she’d grow up to one day fall in love with her handsome Prince Charming and they’d ride off into the sunset together, having overcome some great and torturous evil.

The reality? Not so much.

Twenty-first-century dating, is no walk in the park. All the romantic, nervous and quaint ideals that were once surrounding the act of “courting” someone are now a distant memory, and what we’re left with is a distinct lack of morals, with a side order of wanting your cake and eating it too. Intimate, romantic dining has now been replaced with sloppy, drunken nightclub settings. Beautifully composed love songs, have now been replaced with the unbelievably sexist musings of Robin Thicke. Eyes meeting across the room, has now been replaced with a ‘swipe right’ on Tinder. Forgive me if I sound outdated, but when did we let romance die?

At which point did we lose the social structure of meeting, courting, dating, relationship? Everybody knew where they stood. Nobody was left tentatively awaiting a text message during their walk of shame the next day and nor were people left pondering, scrutinising each and every communication from their date, frantically rationalising that ‘seen’ button along the way.

What changed? At which point did we decide to drop the 1950s style courting rituals, for the 2000s style ‘quantity over quality’ mantra.

And, more importantly, how do we get it back?

Believe it or not, this blog has a purpose.

Given that life itself is something I generally find most taxing and is certainly not my greatest of skills, one may ask why I’m writing about it – And one would be right to. However, the answer isn’t one of a straightforward nature. Keeping journals, diaries and up to date social media has been a frequent feature in my life since an incredibly young age, and I have a love of writing, so the next logical step was to turn my nostalgia-filled love of the English language and drag it into the 21st century with me. 

Whether this results in four followers who often roll their eyes and wonder why they are still reading, or four hundred, is of no grave importance to me. What is, is having a place to build up memories, favourite books, makeup products, music, general wonderings and somehow have the end result being a documentation of my twenties that I can forever look back upon.. Hopefully with the odd sentimental chuckle, as opposed to recoiling in cringeworthy horror.