Tag Archives: Life

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.

DEAR DIARY: A MONTH OF BIRTHDAY SHENANIGANS AND BIG LIFE CHANGES

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It’s time to face the cold, heartbreaking, truth. I can no longer sing the lyrical wonder “22” by the musical royalty that is Taylor Swift. I am now officially 23 years old.

A moment of respectful silence wouldn’t go a miss, right now.

But me, oh my, what a month it’s been. So I figured why pop back up with one of my sarcastic list posts about your quarter-life crisis, when I could give you guys a little insight as to where I’ve been and why I’ve been in a perpetual state of “Rachel Greene, I don’t want to be a shoe” crisis for the past thirty days. (Wee Friends reference to keep us going there, folks.)

To kick off, I turned 23. The beginning of the end until Swift writes a catchy little number to go along with it. The occasion was marked with an obligatory week of absolutely milking my birthday to within an inch of its life, of course. Time was spent with my family, with the phrase “you’ve got to, it’s my birthday” being thrown around like a verbal rugby ball. An embarrassingly large order to Dominos was placed only to, of course, blame it on ‘my birthday’. Let’s not forget trying to convince everyone I know and their aunt’s to go to the aquarium with me and most importantly the equally obligatory trip to a nightclub.

I don’t mind telling you if it weren’t for the being with my best friend portion of the evening, I fear I would have lost my temper. The ratio of female to disrespectful male was off the scale. At one point I even had one girl admit mid drunk-bathroom-chat, that she’d grown so desperate to fend off the sexual advances that she’d completely skipped the old classic, “I’m a lesbian”, and straight to “I never made it to the bathroom on time”… Not all heroes wear capes, girls.

Now, as if such birthday excitement wasn’t enough I also woke up on the celebration of my birth with an email saying that lil’ ol’ me had been accepted to study contemporary art.

Eep!

And just when things couldn’t get anymore eep-worthy, my old workplace – and by old, please instead read ‘favourite’ – opened back up and I got offered my little beaut of a job back… Did I mention it’s exactly three minutes from my door?

Double eep!

Not to mention, I’m getting at least eighteen more hours a week than I was at my other job. Too much eeping to be done, here.

So, my little nuggets, expect shopping hauls galore for a while… I seem to think I can make it rain, right now.

8-STEP WINTER FLU SURVIVAL GUIDE

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As you can probably deduce from the title of this post, I have been cruelly struck down in my prime. My life and all it contains came to an abrupt halt this week and I withdrew from any form of functional society to reside in my bed. The only signs of life that can be observed are the trail of junk food, numerous glasses of blackcurrant juice and the intense, not at all dramatic and totally justified wailing about how imminent my impending death is.

And yet, despite all this hardship, I’m surviving guys. So, here’s a little insight into how you can too when I finally break the internet barrier and take you all down with me:

 

1. GIVE IN. GIVE IN, TO THE DARK SIDE.

Trust me when I say this, do as little as humanly possible. Don’t move. Become horizontal and choose an unsuspecting loved one to unknowingly become your flu-related slave. Comparing yesterday, a day of rest, and today, a day in which I naively tried to function in society, I know which I’ll be replicating for the next twenty-four hours. And trust me, you should too.

2. TV, TV AND MORE TV.

Now that you’re sufficiently immobilised, the only thing that can begin to make your spirits feel lifted is what I like to call ‘easy-watching’ TV. Now, to me, this means the kind of familiarity which results in very minimal concentration, since you can already quote each episode in your sleep. Watch until your heart’s content and your mind has been sufficiently numbed. Examples of which include: Friends, How I Met Your Mother, Gilmore Girls and the wonder that is Gossip Girl.

3. JUNK FOOD – TRUST ME, I’M NOT A DOCTOR.

What is it they say again, starve a fever and feed a cold? Well, that’s just what I did. Now, I know there is a queue of health professionals out there ready to slaughter me for this. But don’t you even begin to try to tell me that your throat and all of the suffering that it’s endured so far won’t thank you for the entire tub of Ben and Jerry’s you’ve consumed.

4. ENOUGH WATER TO SINK THE TITANIC ALL OVER AGAIN.

If you’ve stuck around long enough to remember my nuggets of wisdom from last year in, “11 Things I Wish I Knew Before My Twenties“, then you’ll remember my waxing lyrical about the wonder of hydration. This is triply true when you’re incapacitated with the flu. If you think your impending flu-death is unpleasant, try your impending flu-death and dehydration on for size, you’ll never take your eye off the ball again.

5. COMFORT IS KEY.

You’re ill, you’re exhausted, you’re bloated from inhaling an entire tub of ice cream before Friends’ theme song has even begun. The only thing that’s going to improve this situation is blankets. Blankets, blankets and more blankets. And don’t forget that soft toy you pretend you didn’t purchase from the Disney store, to accompany you in your time of need.

6. DRESS TO IMPRESS.

If the person you’re trying to impress is a onesie designer, that is. The bigger, the fluffier and the more OTT, the better. Bonus points for each Disney character onesie you can find.

7. THE LONGER THE BATH, THE BETTER THE BATH.

I truly believe that the answer to everything is a good bath. This is only quadrupled in truth when one has been taken down by the flu. Overload on bubbles, you’ll instantly perk right back up.

8. LOUDLY ALERT YOUR LOVED ONES TO YOUR IMPENDING DEATH.

And if they are anything like my friends and family, you’ll immediately be met with a chorus of “SHUT UP”.

 

On that note guys, I’m off to return to my Night Nurse induced coma.

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

CHRISTMAS CATCH-UPS AND NO NEW ME’S

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Before I even begin to put thought to keyboard, can we just take a second to focus on the fact that it’s January? It’s 2017. I.. How? When the fluff did that happen?

Anyway.

Christmas flew by quicker than a Sunday Grey’s Anatomy marathon this year. I swear one minute I was eating an entire box of Thornton’s chocolate and wrestling the button of my jeans open, next the calendar pinned to my cupboard door became about as useful as a chocolate teapot. However, the speed it flashed by at definitely doesn’t reflect how good a festive period it was. Not only did Santa Clause shower me in all my favourite things, but I went to my first Christmas market.

Now, getting me into the festive spirit isn’t exactly on a par with the more difficult things in life. – In fact, at times, Buddy the Elf has quite the rival in spreading the Christmas cheer. – But let me tell you, nothing quite got me into the Christmas mindset quite like Edinburgh’s attempts at the festivities. There were endless stalls filled with the most pleasant smelling diet-ruiners you could ever imagine, absolutely out of this world little gifts from all over the Christmas joyed planet and to top everything off, a Christmas tree maze which was intended for children yet myself and my also not-a-child sister, got completely lost in. But by far, the beautiful Christmas themed icing on top of the Christmas pudding was undoubtedly the Ferris wheel. What’s better than seeing Edinburgh, than seeing Edinburgh from a great height, whilst being recorded swearing like a trooper about the fact you’re at a great height?

It’s definitely something I’ll be revisiting this Christmas.

However, the festivities have come and gone and now we’re in the January blues no man’s land, where everyone is setting themselves unrealistically high goals for the year. But you can all rest easy, my friends. You will have continuity in your year, you can continue your week safe and sound in the knowledge you will not be receiving any ‘new me’. I pledge to remain the same serial Dominos ordering, excessive wine drinking, life-stumbling, money spending Alice that you have all come to know.

I’ve decided that my approach to 2017 will not include any mahoosively unrealistic resolutions, it merely will revolve around the premise that I will tackle the year with the same clumsy gusto that I always do and will try my hardest not to half-arse anything I do.

But if there’s one thing I will make a conscious effort to change is my self-sabotaging ways. It sounds extreme but we’re all guilty of it, you make it to the end of another year and claim that the next you’ll do more, or you’ll see your friends more or even simply exercise more. But behold, when your best friend rings you up and tells you to get yourself ready cause you’re going out, you look at your Disney pyjamas and suddenly it seems much more appealing to remain potatoed on the couch. Only to find you later regret it. Or you find yourself in a deathly staring match with your gym shoes and walk past them daily in spite of it. But not anymore, not this year. As sweeping a statement it seems, the reality is much simpler, just stop saying no to things and yet I never do.*

2016 was… Well, it was really something. So here’s to another a year of chaos, clumsiness and trying to navigate this nightmare that we call our twenties.

*To any of my friends reading this, please god make this transition easy, I beg of you. (And yes Charlotte, I mean you and your knitting groups.)