Art Day

Today I had an art day at my table with my Bernies and practised using some watercolours. 

Everyone should have a go at painting, it is so fun. Some people say they are hopeless at art, but seriously its easy. The method I use is i like to make pictures by just choosing colours, and making shapes and marks on the page, swirling it together and just keep going until your picture starts to look like something. 

Today I did some pictures using this very sophisticated and artistically correct method. 

I'm also not sure if they only actually look like anything to me, so it is a bit scary putting photos up, incase everyone else just sees a big scribble that is ugly. I dont want my pictures to be ugly. Although the thing i love about art is that what is ugly to one person is beautiful to another...

And the main thing is painting is fun, so it doesnt matter if people dont like your art or think its silly because it is yours and you had fun doing it...Im not sure if these are finished or just started or what really yet, but here are some pictures of my pictures.

Hair Cut

SO here's the deal. Life has been feeling grrreat and ive been buzzing with plans for the future as i now have my whole life ahead of me. I dont feel completely lost anymore, the big whole in my chest seems to be shrinking and i just feel more grounded. Im not worrying all the time, but I am doing things. I feel more like a real person, like the last few years of my life have been a hazy dream. It has made me realise that actually, i am not just a weak, broken, lost little girl, but actually I have been really poorly!

I forgot what life was like outside of Depression. I thought this was just the way I am. It is hard to remember a time when I actually felt that I had a chance at life, that I didnt dread everyday, that i didnt hate myself so much i just wanted everything to stop. That hurt and pain...the darkness. Its fading. Yay.

So, naturally, i got the impulsive urge to cut my hair off. And now I fear that Cat Lady may have gone slightly bonkers, so I need to calm down a notch. I have so many ideas that I dont know where to start. I think its just the excitement of feeling more like a real person.

Ive had this nagging voice for about a week, the impulse to shave my head and then let it all grow back. The feeling that this will make me more real if I can see my head and know that it is really still there. The slightly nightmarish bit is that I havent really been sleeping, and Ive found myself in the bathroom at 6am, scissors in hand, with the incredible urge and compulsion to cut my hair off. But I have restrained myself from acting on this urge.

Up until yesterday, when I had a busy day. I did some cleaning and ironing for my friends parents (ive started working! Earning myself some money), then meeting a friend for lunch and feeling calm in the middle of a public place. I actually sat in a cafe and ate a sandwhich, surrounded by people, and then I went to the till and paid. And I was smiling and I didnt try to hide my face or look at the floor. I didnt shake when I was talking, or avoid contact with every human being. And then I met my brother briefly and joined him for a chat and a cig. (the sherbert Lemons never really took off).

And then I wanted to go and see Meg because I have been a crap friend recently, just terrible at returning calls or remembering plans and so wrapped up in doing my own thing because I can and because I have the motivation and I can. But by then I was so totlaly exhausted, legs achey, brain starting to fuzzle, that i thought it best I go home back to Bernie where I could regain composure.

So I got home and locked the door and went straight to the bathroom, picked up the scissors, and started hacking away at my hair. And  And by then I didnt quite feel real. I felt like I was watching someone else in the mirror, a blank face. And the more I cut the shorter I wanted it. So I turned away from the mirror and just started snipping as it felt appropriate. Although mayeb this whole thing was entirely inapproprriate.

And then I picked up a lady bikini trimmer for your special area which I found at the back of my stuff cupboard and just zapped a whole section of my head hair right off.

Bert and Ernie started meowing at me, and then I bumbled about the flat for an hour or so, tidying and cutting things out of a mag and putting them in a tin and dancing around to Justin Timberlake. And then i went back in the bathroom and saw the most beautiful, shiny, radiant red locks of hair scattered all over the floor. In the sink, all over the bathroom. And I realised it was mine.

Its odd that Ive never really paid too much attention to my hair, and yet now, here it was just looking like such nice hair on the floor.

I looked in the mirror and talked to the stranger staring back at me, moving her head from side to side. One side of her hair just past the shoulders, the other side short and sticking up. It was like having a conversation with 2 different people. 3 if you include me. My left face looked like a 20year old woman, a bit quirky and arty with a nose stud and funky hair. She looked more grown up. Her eyes looked wide,green. Bright, vibtant, shaped like almonds. And I looked deep into them in the mirror and shook hand with her soul for a moment. She smiled.

My right face looked softer, paler against a thick flicker of red hair that hid parts of her face and tassled in knots on her shoulders. Her reflection of hair in the mirror seemed so much more limp and dead than the wavy golden shiny locks I picked up from the sink and held in my hand. Her eyes looked frightened, dulled, searching. She looked like a lost little girl.

My poor neighbour Hollie is a saint for putting up with me. There's been superglue incidents and self-harm incidents and moving my firniture round and getting trapped in a corner behind a bed and a cupboard incidents and dragging me out of cave and pyjamas and dressing gown incidents because apparantly it is not normal to hibernate for weeks at a time. And now the hair hacking incident.

Luckily, I was in a pretty peachy mood, and as I was due to go out with Hollie at 8 to see Tin Tin at the cinema (good film btw, how do they make animation look that good? its amazing)....anyway, I knocked on her door which is exactly 5 steps across the corridor from my door and asked of she could sort me out.
SO out come more scissors and, although I love her dearly, and she snipped away entirely on my encouragement, I think this made the situation a whole lot worse.

So we left it and I played with my hair for a bit (using bits on the floor to make a beard and mostauche etc) and then i went to the cinema sporting a very strange hairstyle, but luckily it is dark in there.

And this is the weird bit...
I didnt wake up this morning and go to the mirror and cry...
  I woke up this morning and had this vague recollection of hair getting snipped, tidied up, put on a coat anda hat, and went to the hairdressers where a nice lady sorted me out. Normally I hate the hairdressers, sitting in front of a mirror trying to avoid eye contact with both myself and the reflection and the hairdresser. Having to talk to a random person about Eastenders and non-existant holidays and the weather. And not even being able to look in the mirror when theyve finished the hair cut and ask if its ok, so just saying yeah. But the lady was nice and we had a right giggle about hair catastrophes. I couldnt really afford to get it cut but its done now.

 And now I have short hair and its kind of funky but I feel quite naked. Im not too bothered about it, I just hate that bit when you go out and someone says "oh youve had a haircut" and you're like "really?". I dont like people looking at me, I never know what they're thinking.

But anyway, its done now, and on the plus side it is getting cold out so i can always wear a hat, and I have a nice collection of raggy bits of material and ribbons that I like to tie round my head and this might improve the general look. But I feel a bit like I have just reinvented myself, which is cool. I just hope I dont sort of wake up soon and regret it. It will always grow back I guess.

Have I gone mad?
Does it even matter if Im happy? I dont know if I look like a boy now, or a lesbian, or someone who has gone nuts and hacked thier hair out....but beauty is within anyway and now that my hair is less heavy i feel that my brain has more space to breathe. I just hope I dont regret it when I have to face people I know and they look at me funny and I realise I have brought attention to myself and.....it will grow back anyway so doesnt matter. The point is I feel more me on the inside, even if I look like someone else on the outside. Although maybe that reflection is the real me?

Anyway, Im rambling. I feel brand new, like a baby with not much hair and now it can all grow back, and my life can begin again, as the new me. SO I am saying goodbye to the frightened wide eyed green eyed girl, and goodbye to the non-life dithering cat lady, and shouting at her voices to fuck off because I am worth something despite what they tell me....and saying Hello to a whole new chapter in Laura's Locket.

Best is yet to come :-)

A Cat's Life

Here are some of the recent adventures of Bert and Ernie...

Bert was still sulking since falling off the table. Ernie was still in hysterics.

The boys were very happy with thier new bed and blankets

Even though Ernie was twice the size of Bert, he couldnt resist pestering him  for a piggyback

The boys packing up before they got sold on Amazon

The boys remembered thier own plastic bags before heading to Tesco

ABRACADABRA!

Manic

I've been meaning to blog for days about lots of things, but the problem seems to be that i have milllions of brilliant ideas but forget them very quickly, and also cant decide which one to do.
I have about 6 different pieces of half finished art on the go, and lots of half written blog posts. I want to do a massive painting on a canvas, play my guitar, learn some new songs, write some songs, blog, write poetry, try my hand at some new crafts, read through the pile of books that is my reading list, and also hang out with friends. Ive also been making litlte videos of Bert and Ernie, called the Adventures of Bert and Ernie.
Maybe Ive gone a bit loopy, but it feels good so who cares?
Just need to be able to focus a bit. Just to say, dont panic, I have not abandoned my blog or got writers block. The opposite actually. The words keep flowing through my head I just havent been too good at writing them down, or when i do i cant write quick enough. But its ok, I can totally bring it together. Will post some pics and poems soon and get back onto the bloggering. SMILE :-D

Life

...its beginning to feel just so much better <3

Growing up

Today I met my brother's kitten Lirryal., She is soo cute and such a tiny little fluff ball that it made me realise that my boys arent kittens anymore, they are so big now. They have grown up so fast...Sniff sniff.
But i wouldnt change them for the world :)

Also have just been to Tescos, on my own, without having a nervy b. i writ a list and brought my own bags and even pushed a trolly, which normally i feel too silly to do incase i dont look normal enough to push a trolly. I think maybe i am growing up too.

Or at least trying to act like a grown up...and buying sensible things like some more diet coke, cat food, and the most amazing air freshener candle that smells of coconuts and changes all the colours of the rainbow, its so exciting.

Gawd im so sad...ahhh

Annoying

Ok dont hate me but i cant handle the guilt anymore

I just killed a fly.

I feel terrible about this. It was just annoying me so much, and Bernie kept leaping about trying to get it and it was upsetting them, and buzzing loudly, so i just sprung up and karate chopped it flat against the wall. And then I gasped in shock at my actions and said sorry to the fly. I gingerly peeled him off the wall and lovingly squished him between some tissue and tossed him into the bin, his place of rest.

Ive never purposely killed an animal before. Bert and Ernie looked really impressed with me though. I like to think I put the fly out of his misery...better to be splatted in an instant than played with and picked apart and chewed and spat out and chewed again by 2 kittens.

Any way i was just wondering, do flys have feelings?

Poltergeist

Today I have wasted most of the day losing my phone and then trying to find it again.

Im not normally too bothered about my phone, but i just had it in my hand and i havnt left the flat and then it has vanished. And Suddenly I felt like i needed to find my phone incase there was an emergency.

I looked in all the obvious places, on the sofa i was sitting on and under every cushion, in my bed, in the cupbards, washing machine, oven, fridge, bin, microwave, anywhere that I may have been likely to put it down.

Bert and Ernie had not stolen it. But its definitely missing. I think there is a naughty ghost or something living here with me...evil spirit or something. And the bugger keeps pinching my stuff. And then I started to think that maybe I was dead and stuck somewhere between heaven and hell where i was floating about looking for my phone but would never find it because i could no longer make contact with the outside world. 

I tried to send an email to my mum to ask her to ring my phone so that it would ding a ling and help me find it. But even my email stopped working, and then i was pretty sure i was dead. I was pretty calm, considering.

But i still wanted to find my phone so i carried on faffing around. I started picking things up off the floor that shouldnt have been on the floor, and putting things back where they should be, hoping i would find my nokia in the process.
This turned out to be a good this, as I have now finally tidied my flat and cleared up a bit.

And eventually, after 6 hours, i found my phone right at the bottom of the sofa. And I had already looked there twice with a torch. Definitely a naughty ghost.

No missed calls. No Messages.

And then I wondered why I had bothered spending so long looking for it. But at least i have done some housework in the process.

And that is what I have done today.

I have also done some painting.

Hope

A year ago, or even a few months ago, i would not have dreamt that one day i would have the motivation and confidence to get up every morning, and do life properly, try new things and find my voice.

Well today with some ladies from TFF I went along to a singing group and joined in the harmonies. It was only for an hour and I tried not to look at anyone, but I went and I sang and it was fun. Im going to go again next wednesday.

I feel that I have definitely made a start this month, on getting my stupid illness under control and taking control of my pathetic non-life.

I have mostly done this by trying to remember who i was before i got ill, and pretending to be more like her, and then i started to feel like her. Simples.

Also as bit of psycotherapy, a big bag of meds anti depressants and antis psychotics, a bit of screaming, a bit of yoga and mindfulness, writing, making, painting and creating. And the support from my Mum.. Everyone needs thier mum.

But mostly it has to come from you.

It is not easy. Its like having two broken legs and still trying to walk. You have to find the last shred of teeny tiny hope inside you, to rip up your suicide notes and choose life instead. You have to be brave.

I am not brave,...yet. I am just another person trying to find thier way through a lot of hurt and pain, and begin again. Who is trying to move on from things gone wrong, step by step by step. I tend do do mine 2 forwards and 3 back, like a little dance. But step by step.

Moment by moment. Beath by breath Breathing is very important. Ask Jon Kabat Zinn.

I felt my body had been breathing seperate to my mind, and my soul was somewhere caught in my lungs. Panicked. Breathed in, stuttered and lost my voice, which was wriggling inside me but trapped and fighting for ways out and shaking me inside, breaking my body and my mind.

And then i took this deep breath right down to my stomach, and was gasping for this air that i had forgotten to breathe. Im not sure if this is a metaphor or not. But whatever.

Any way i still have a way to go in order to ensure that my fate does not rest with the bearded chain smoking Lonely grumbling shuffling stinkin cat lady (god bless them), but at least ive made a start.

The cats have stolen every single one of my paint brushes and i dont have anymore. I also dont have a pair slippers that havnt been half eaten.
I dont have a job, I dont have a mind or body well enough for work yet. I dont have a someone who loves me or someone to wake up to in the morning. I dont have someone here when Im crying on my knees at 4am, or when the voices in my head say that Im disgusting. I dont have many qualifications, I dont have a puppy, i have 2 cats..i dont have chocolate and could really do with some.

But there is also a lot I do have.

So Im sitting here in my council flat on my own with a cig in one hand and a cup of tea thats gone cold, and i feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

I have a bit of hope, and a bit of strength. I have determination. I have friends who have made me smile today, and a guitar to strum, and Bert and ernie to cuddle up to. I have a deliciously scrummy squidgy bed to sleep in. I have a lot. I have a life ahead of me and i want to be a part of it.

And on reflection, i cant remember the last time life felt so good. that i wasnt scared. and so now is a very precious moment, and im going to smile like i should, tell myself i deserve to. i dont know how long this will last, i get terrified it could all be gone by tomorrow, that i could wake up lost again and broken. But i just keep wishing and wishing, and maybe it will last. I really really hope so.

I forgot how beautiful life can be
And now ive slowly started to see
to see clearly,
And start to be me
And hope that one day i will be free.
I will be free,
Me !?....free?
I will be free, to be me.

Super Glue

Accidentally superglued fingers together so shuffled out of flat and across hallway in my cat lady slippers to see if the wise neighbour and beautiful friend Hollie could rescue me from this disaster.

Apart from 3 left fingers and a thumb and 5 of right fingers being stuck together, it was actually a very good thing that I had this stroke of bad luck at this particular moment.

I did the secret knock as best I could with my elbow on Hollie's door, and when she opened it, I felt really sad.

Incase you were wondering, my fingers are now unstuck and recovering from their trauma. It would be tragic if they were stuck together forever...no more typing, no more drawing, writing, guitaring, painting, piano. Always appreciate your fingers.

Hollie said she was fine but her eyes were bleary and she looked sad. And as I have been meaning to catch up with Wise Hollie for over a week, I thought what a lovely coincidence it was that she should need a friend just as I knocked on the door, and that somethin gave me the kick up the bum to pop round and be one. The universe wanted me to.

So I sat her down and told her to spill. She shared a little bit of her sadness, and like they say a problem shared is a problem halfed.

I am not always good at offering advice, but at least I can make people smile. I said i know what will cheer you up, look at this, ive superglued my hands together.

And then we laughed, and then we chatted and had dinner and a glass of wine and a few cigarettes, and all in all I am very glad I managed to superglue my fingers together (though I wouldnt advise trying it). And we got some paper and oilpastels and did some creative recoveryness together.

Today I have learnt that Shit happens but you just gotta keep going, and something good will come along. Dont focus on the things that go wrong, focus on the things that go right. And you cant have one without the other...the good side of having felt the blows of depression and utter despair and harrowing lonliness and wanting nothing more than to just shrivel up and die....is that when you have a good day, is that when good things start to happen, they feel a million times gooder than they would have without the pain.

And that is the only 1 reason that depression is and will ever be good for..otherwise it is completely shit and best not to go there. Not that anyone chooses to...but i think when your in it you can choose to either roll with it or fight it. Its taken me a long long time to have the strength to do this.

I planned to have an early night, my head is really heavy and my body slowed right down, but my mind is buzzing. But I am going to take my bedtime pills and go sleep now.

And its been a good day, which you should always appreciate. And I am looking forward to TFF tomorrow. It is nice to be looking forward to things instead of dreading them and hoping I'll die before the morning. Very nice indeed.

I am on my way to a life of wellness, sooo gonna get better, i am feeling strong. Remember that super glue is also strong, and always be thankful for your fingers.

Yeah

This is my 60th blog post.

Didnt realise I done that many.

Have thouroughly enjoyed my first few months of blogging.

Never expected anyone to read this crap from my waffly brain...

but in 2 views time I will have 1000 page views.

Didnt realise my blabber would be worth reading.
Thank you, people, for taking an interest.
Thanks a lot :)

Celebrate Recovery

I have just got back from a inspiring afternoon at a workshop thing about recovery from mental illness.

There was words people had written, artwork and music. Its all about using creativity to promote recovery.

It was pretty scary going on my own but Im glad I went. There was a lady who has written songs and played the guitar and sang. It was very soothing music. she talked about how music helped her recover from depression, and she has the same diagnoses as me.

I thought it was beautiful.

There was a table with peoples art work displayed and stories they had written about being ill and getting well again. The art work spoke to me, it made me feel connected to these artists...that other people feel how i sometimes feel.

I had to look extra close at one picture to check i hadnt actually done it! It was the sort of thing that typically flows out my pen when im doodling. A stick person in chains, a broken heart, a wall made of bricks with bricks missing, fire anger, loneliness. But it was a positive picture...it just splatted it all on the page and said it with no words. Honest.

There was another table with little postcards to draw on and lots of colours. Like a mini post secret project. People drew on thier postcard what recovery means to them, and then stuck them up together on a wall. They looked nice. Hopeful.

This was my postcard:

This was a really positive experience. It is such a relief to hear people's stories of coming out the other side, after feeling so utterly hopeless and confused, and findin a way through.

It would have been good if i could have chatted to people, but the anxiousness was going a bit bananas in a room of people, so I just listened. People have interesting things to say when you listen.

Lesley my art therapist lady was there so I didnt feel completely alone, it was nice to see a friendly face. And when I went to go she was talking and i didnt know if it was rude to interrupt and say bye, or rude to go without saying by. So I just hung around lke a larry until i could say bye. Cat Lady's social skills aren't great.

These are the sorts of daily inner turmoils i face. Going out, chatting, being around people, anxiety, worry, paranoia, negative voices in my head, more worry.

But i know throughmy own experienceand now through other peoples that al these things can be managed by creativity.It helps yo find your YOUness again. Accepting it and putting it on paper or in song helps you look at it from an outside perspective, which helps reduce all the noise inside.

For me its like spilling your head onto a canvas, or writing it in the best words you can find, or strumming a guitar and singing along as the melody flows through you.

This has put me in a creative mood. so Im going to go and do something with my paints now.

If I can find a paintbrush, Bernie keep stealing them.

Recovery here I come yippee

Tea dunking

Totally made it to Art Therapy on time this morn. 10 points to me.
then even made it to dentist on time too.

Didnt even freak out.

Now back home, brain ticking along nicely but body too slow.
Cuppa tea.
Am f f f freezing. Cat lady has her dressing gown and slippers on with blanket and 2 cuddly cats.

Strumming on guitar. Tie a headscarf round my head, pretend I am Jimi Hendrix.

Brief episode of paranoia...are the neighbours having a secret meeting to discuss the crazy cat lady upstairs?

Tell thoughts to shut up.

Legs heavy, wrists achey. Custard Cream. Dip custard cream in tea, custard cream breaks. Examine biscuity stodge in mug. Consider writing a complaint...these Custard Creams just aren't hardcore enough for the average tea dunker.

Dear mr Crumble,
we cant all afford hobnobs, so why should some of us not have the privelidge of tea dunking? It took me a long time to make that cup of tea,and your biscuit runied it.

Decide there are probably bigger problems in the world. Have absent mindedly drunk tea now anyway.

Listen to ipod with tv on mute. Scooby Dooby Doo on subtitles. blogging about useless things.Notice lots of dots on floor. Need to hoover.
Add hoovering to llist of things to do.

Just having a rest now, going out later. Going to be a sociable human being and visit a friend :-) must be awake. This is a very important thing to remember if you want to be good company. Stay Awake.

Wonder if its best to have a nap now, or just keep busy so im on a roll. Cant sem to concentrate on one thing for very long.

Hands still cold (cold hands warm heart), under blanket snuggly with sleeping furry pets on lap for extra warmth.

Planning to blog about something interesting, but i dont have anything very interesting to talk about on here.

I went out at the weekend. Actual Out Out. Had been dreading it for weeks. People. Noise. Not enough energy. Paranoia. No Thank you. Agreed to go for a meal and some drinks with my friend Marie. Got to make the effort.

Had a great night!
Put some makeup on, laughed and chatted to people.

Didnt have an embarassing episode of alcohol disagreeing with medication, being sloshed on 2 drinks and waking up in a bin with a nosebleed and going home in an ambulance singing the aphabet to myself.

This has only happened once, And I am very sorry to the NHS for this disaster. But in my defence, i had just turned 18 and finally been let out of the psych ward..at least i was doing my best to fit in with everyone else my age, and it was only 2 drinks....

Something very strange has happened to me. I have realised, that I actually want some company. I want to chat to other people and have other things to think about and people to make me smile.

up until now for a long time I have just wanted to be on my own and find any company exhausting and uneccesary and too much of an effort.

But now I am only half a cat lady and the other half a sociable, functioning, custard cream dipping young woman.

Jammin at TFF

i have just got in from a good day at The Funny Farm. Today i did some more cutting stuff out of magazines and sticking and started a collage and i went to see the goats. i also brought in my guitar, so we had a bit of a jammin sesh.

With my beginners book for beginners i can play Imagine by John Lemon, its only 3 chords. so we sang along to that. Then tried Seasons in the Sun....which turned into "we had joy we had fun we had fingers up our bum"...crazy people are fun.

I even managed to get up and showered and out the door this morning without too much difficulty. Things are lookin goood. Nackered now though.

Bert and Ernie have been banished from my bedroom, since Bertie keeps weeing on my bed..not nice. I am always quite excited to see them again when i come home, they, however, are still having a strop from not being able to sleep on my bed.

Will make up for it by giving them a cuddle on the sofa...a good excuse to have a little rest now.

TTFN :)
(Ta Ta For Now)

The Puffin

I got a nice card in the post today.

I dont normally bother to open my post...its normally just an unneccesary bill that i cant afford to pay or a silly boring form to fill out or something equally as depressing.

But today when I opened my post box, which annoyingly is right at the top of the post boxes, and I have to stand on my tippy toes to look in there....but anyway today i found a teeny tiny cute little envelope on there with some familiar scrawly handwriting on. This sort of post in nice post.

I especially like these mini cards, because I like to pretend i am a giant when holding it. you can also play this game with those little finger skateboards, party pizzas, and those little champagne bottles that blow bubbles that you get at weddings. Though i wouldnt advise doing this at a wedding.

Inside the baby envelope i found a baby card with a picture of a pelican on the front, with a very lovely multi coloured beak. Like this:

I thought it was nice, and then upon read inside  learnt that this is not a pelican but a puffin. I like puffins now.

You may think this is a very random thing to get in the post, since I do not have a history of bird watching, a fascination for puffins, or even knowledge that they exsited. I am also not celebrating the opening of a new wildlife park and it is not my birthday or christmas and that is when you usually get nice cards in the post.

But considering this card is from my lovely nice friend Abnormal Andrew, it is randomly in trend with other things he has sent me in the past, such as a doodle of a monkey for my birthday, and a story called Harry Potter and the Magic Sausage.

I havnt known Andrew for long, I met him last christmas eve in the pub for a mutual friends birthday. He likes computers and gadgets and  photography, and he is a bit silly like how I am a bit silly. We randomly just stayed in touch and he pops in to see me when he's down and every so often we speak on the phone and discuss life or send random things in the post. I must admit he is better at sending things to me than I am at getting back to him, sorry about that Andrew. 

Abnormal Andrew has become a good friend to me, and I have tried to be a friend to him. He is very thoughtful and it makes me feel a little bit guilty that he is so thoughtful and I mostly remember to get back to him only when he sends me these silly things...because otherwise my head feels overcrowded and falls off, i forget things. But anyway, thanks Abnormal Andrew, I hope you dont mind me calling you that, i just like alliteration and I mean it in a really nice way. You are a good and lovely person. Altruistic Andrew. its nice to make friends.:-)

But anyway, inside the card it says "I saw this and thought of you. That's not to say you look like a puffin but I think if you were a bird you would have a very colourful beak. Perhaps even more colourful than a puffin's beak. I will send you some videos of puffins on Facebook".

I like this a lot, I like that someone think of me as colourful. and the puffin is nice. I love colours, I like art because I love putting colours together. I used to like wearing my multi coloured hair band, just because I liked rainbows...and it wasnt until my mid teens that i A.) realised these bright colours made me more noticeable, which was the opposite to what I wanted to be doings...I just really like the colours, and B.) that the rainbow symbol is association with gayness...

I just couldnt understand why the girls at school kept telling people i was a lesbian, since a lesbian is somebody (usually a woman) who is interested in another woman. And since I had never had a girlfriend, had never shown an interest in lady love or ever claimed to be a lesbian, I guess it was the rainbow hairband that gave these people the right to spread rumours about my sexuality. Or maybe just because i got bored talking about boys and wasnt crazy about them and liked to focus my energies on other things, like walking my dog or swimming or riding my bike or worrying excessively about cleanliness or calories or doing my schoolwork. If you are a 14 year old girl who prefers music over men, books over boys, or wizards instead of willy's, and likes to wear comfy shoes instead of heels, then this, obviously, automatically and undoubtedly, means that you are a homosexual.

Except to be honest I was too busy with other things to have even given a thought to whether or not I found men or women attractive. I preoccupied with other things. But thanks for deciding for me and spreading rumours and making my last few years of school miserable, by the way. That was great.

In hindsight, I wish I had known then what i know now. I wish I had had the guts to tell them to piss off, and express my views on gayness. Which is, that its ok, and why should it matter to anyone else anyway, and why is sexuality something to judge a person by. Even though Im still not sure if I would have the guts to voice my opinion, in real life I mean, out loud.

 I personally think of it like this: Some people are right handed, some people are left handed. Some people are academic, some people are practical. Some people are loud, some are quiet. Some people are gay. Some people are straight. ... And its all ok.. and if everyone just accepted everyone things would run much more smoothly...and that its really not an issue. I hope my opinion does not offend anybody. 

I personally have decided that I dont care whether the person who I want to spend most time with or have feelings for is male or female...its the person inside that matters. Maybe this does make odd? or maybe just greedy. For the record I have only ever had boyfriends, most short-lived. 

But the fact is it doesnt bother me so it shouldnt bother anyone else, who I am. Everyone has the right to just be them, thank you very much. And I dont feel the need to label myself, I'll just go with the flow, c'est la vie etc.

Why is everyone so interested in everyone else? And why should people worry about wearing a colourful hairband if that is what they like? Why cant people just mind thier own business and stop judging everyone...by colour, or sexuality. or religion, or whether they are fat or thin or a completely bonkers bearded cat lady ... why not just let people be happy, and let them live thier own lives? 

Anyway, back to the puffin card, it got me thinking, if you could be any animal, what would you be?

I would find it hard to choose. I would love to be a monkey, since they are a lot like people, only less 'ohgod oh god the neighbours are poppin round in a min and the place is a mess', or 'i need to have at least 4 shiny cars and be powerful and important and wear an expensive suit' or 'yehmate im so hard init dont messwiv mebruv'...they only care about the sleeping and eating and having a laugh and monkeying around, without the stress of the things that have got more complicated since evolving into something (a human) who likes to make life so much more complicated than it need be.

I would like to be a bird, so i could fly very fast. I have always wanted to fly. I used to try it in the playground, imagining my arms were wings and believing that if I wished hard enough and flapped a bit more i would fly far away. and then jumping off the bench and grazing my knee....I even tried collecting some feathers and holding them in each hand, but i was never a successful flyer. And if i was a bird, i think I would like to be the puffin, because its cute and can get away with its colourful beak without being stereo typed as gay.

I would love to be a dolphin, so that I could glide through the water, and have my little dolphin family and squeak to each other and bathe in the med.

Looking at my 2 smelly cats right now, i would quite like to be a cat. They really have it very cushdy. Cuddled up to each other fast asleep, nice and warm, hogging the sofa all to themselves. They always get fed and dont worry about gettin fat, they do naughty things with no sense of shame, and have no qualms about just doing exactly what they please even when I tell them off. They just ignore me, or stare at me indignantly with no sense of remorse. They get lots of cuddles and find everything fun to play with. I would like to be a Bernie. 

Livin the high life...bromance

I also like being a person, sometimes. 

If you could be any animal, what would you most like to be? 

Brain Block

So i feel it is about time that i returned to my bloggering. Been meaning to write something for the last few days but to be honest, i just havnt known what to write. I definitely have some interesting things to discuss, but i forget what they are Ii have writers block. Though since i am hardly a writer, as my hand goes squiffy when i hold a pen and the ink jiggles round and i only ever write senseless things, it is probably politically incorrect to say i have writers block. Just brain block. brain fog, as i like to call it.

Brain fog is the feeling you get when you havnt slept for a few days, and yo have a lot on your mind and yo cant really concentrate on very much for very long.

Sometimes, its like just watching yourself rather than being in yourself, an just kind of drifting along and finding it very hard to make sense of the chatter in your head and also the world outside. your thoughts dont connect with yor brain or your feelings and yor actions dont connect to yor body and yor body doesnt connect to your soul and yor voice doesnt connect to what you mean.

More commonly, brain fog is the feeling of your brain being a bit...foggy.
Or disconbobulated, because that is my favourite word in the whole world and it normally sums me up quite well.

Although i seiously soubt that any right-minded person is logging onto my blog daily, eagerly awaiting my next insightful pearl of wisdom and highly inspirational blabber, then filling with an overwhelming sense of disappointment upon seeing that there are no recent posts, i cannot help but feel BLEUGH on myself for not keeping things up to scratch.

I have sat down to write quite a few times over the last few days. The problem is I have a lot of ideas and things i would like to say, but i very quickly forget them, dont have the energy to make sense of them. I have been very busy wanting to draw, write, and paint, and worrying abouth whether i will be able to produce what i pictured in my head and thinking about doing these things. this takes up a lot of time. But the problem is a i dont know what to draw, what to write, or what to paint. also, there just arent enough hours in a day when a lot of the day is taken up by napping.

It has occurred to me that the time i spend thinking about doing things, worrying about them, making lists and putting things off, probably takes a lot more time than if i just got it done.

So i have spent my morning cutting things out of magazines and putting them in a biscuit tin so that i can later return to these trimmings of interest for a cut and paste collage bonanaza.

I could not get out of bed this morning for art therapy. Woke up at 9.30, legs didnt move, wasnt sure if i was still dreaming or awake. Had a disturbing dream that i was at a party on a bouncy castle and all my teeth kept falling out and crumbling and i couldnt find a dentist and everyone was cross with me for ruining the party.
How does our brains come up with this weird stuff?

Head felt very heavy so i decided to have 5 more minutes, and then woke up again at 10.45,, which made me 45 minutes late for my art therapy session. Bollocks.

i am cross with myself about this. Because it means i wasted Lesley's time and i told myself i would go. Also because i like routine. i dont like not being able to stick to the routine. and now since i have managed to throw my whole day out of sorts, Becaus ei just didnt know what to do with myself after this epic failure, i am still in my jammies with a can of diet coke at 10 past 2 in the afternoon, having not achieved much apart from some cutting and sticking and again sitting down to blog asnd not saying anything useful at all.

Dont get me wrong, im not complaining about being able to hang out in my pjs until late afternoon, stroking kitties and flicking through magazines. Its just that i want to achieve more than this.

But i thought I ought to post smething, just to keep my mind at rest. i want to write because i want to, not because i feel compelled to keep up with it and finish something i have started.

so i am trying to chillax and stop feeling like such a failure, because, quite frankly, this is silly. Why do we put so much pressure on ourselves? Who are we doing it for?

Iis all the stress of life really going to be worth it when we're dead? and you realise all those things you worried about were never that important and you might wish you had just taken more time to enjoy life, instead of stressin about it.

At least i have written somethin now anyway, which i am vey sorry if you've taken the time to read and got this far, still to find that reading this was yet another waste of your time.

No offence but im not realy writing to entertain or please anyone. im doing it for me. I think its good to put a bit of pressure on myself, as i told myself i would write regularly, basically just because it feels better to have something on here, nd i like to get things out on a page and have a voice for myself.

This blog is entirely for me...Selfish I know, but everyone is seflish sometimes.

And i hope its not too selfish because doing this thing for myself, hopefully makes me a better nicer more productive person, and therefore less difficult to be around, which in turn is beneficial for the people who have to put up with me?

i have got to push myself more if want to be well, i want to be successful at the things i enjoy. by success i mean feel that it is worthwhile, feeling more filfulled and satisfied with who i am.

im not sure that simply wtiting for the sake of writing is worthwhile. but i read some online tips for writers block which suggested if you have nothing to write, just write anyway. so im afraid thats what im doing. sort of to kick my brain into action and get my fingers moving.

Hopeully i can sort my life out. Im going to start by getting dressed into appropriate normal perrson clothing, and will return later with something that might actually be of interest to another human being.

If you want something in life, never ever ever give up.

Tired

I have been busy busyand i havebeen tired but not able to get to sleep for 2 nights..
But i am happy glad to have my warm snuggly pjs and kittens and to be safe and sound and just had pizza with lovely neighber hollie and baby Flo.
Tired but happy :)

Nice

A good day

Today was TFF (the funny farm) day
It was a good day and i have quite a lot i would like to write about but unfortunately i am exhausted and writing is hard right now. My legs are reeeaally achey and feel bruised and my heads a bit foggy now..

But for future reference for myself, these are a few topics that came up today that i would like to blog about at a later point when i have the energy

...pigs
...community
...learning stuff

A few weeks ago i had an appointment at the m.e clinic where the doctor asked me a million questions and i had filled out a looong form but forgot to bring that with me, and an occupational therapyer asked me a zillion questions on the phone before that. He said i have m.e and probably have for some time so ive been referred to a fatigue nanagement course thing, but anyway im going off track...

today at TFF i spoke to lady who also has m.e which made me feel better as i thought that she did not appear crap or lazy or cant be bothered at all, quite the opposite in fact...which made me think that when my brain is yelling all those things at me maybe it is isnt true.

Was nice to have someone who knows what it feels like as i beat myself up for being such a pj wearing cat lady slob who doesnt do much, and also get so paranoid people may think i am lazy.

Even though it really shouldnt matter what other people think. But it does to me, annoyingly. I reeally wish i didnt care it would make life a lot lot easier.

At some point i will blog about what it is like to have m.e, for anyone who knows someone who suffers from it, or wants a bit of insight. Also because we had a good discussion today and there is a lot to explain. I mostly just say 'it means im tired' but thats not really a fair picture to be fair as since ive been like this it has really got in the way of the life i would have liked. Along with other stuff and my brain going wonky sometimes.

But im determined to get it back on track anyhow and do the fatigue-fighting-mind-whatsit course and take advice and learn lots of ways to cope with it and manage it.

But i will do that another day like i said as right now i want to sleep now, and my legs are going to fall off and i need my bed and my head is flopping.

bed at 8.30 yay me.

Guiataring

My lovely friend Meg got me a guitar from a carboot sale about 3 weeks ago.
The other day I bought one of those plucky thing from the music shop. And the other day before that I got a learn guitar picture book from the Oxfam book shop lady.

Today I have learnt some new songs on my guitar and been singing along.
Singing is fun. Guitar is fun.

I recorded a song on my camera to see what it sounded like.My face is kinda gay, it moves different than I thought it did. my voice sounds weird.


i learnt Oasis dont look back in anger, and Christina Perri jar of hearts.
I did 4 takes cos i kept looking and sounding silly.

Take 1, i look silly, i am almost in tune, and my performance was rudely interrupted and came to an abrupt end half way through when my adorable kitty kat started pissing on a cushion next to me. Little sod.

Take 2, bert and ernie are leaping about in the background from time to time, between covering thier ears with thier paws and meowing 'stop' which in my head i pretend they are saying 'encore!' i still look silly. Still not in tune.

Take 3, look even more sillier as i am now trying so hard to concentrate. Had the bright idea of tuning my guitar so am more in tune.

Take 4.. Still silly, Still making mistakes on guitar, still not sounding much like Celine Dion...so sped up the video x2 which made me laugh hysterically when watching it back and makes guitar playing much quicker and sound like a banjo and my voice much more like a chipmunk. Its all very silly.

But even if you have a silly voice, i recommend singing sometimes. It might make you feel better :-)


And if i ever decide to go on x-factor, which, i will never ever do as would probably rather die than stand on a stage in front of lots of people, if i ever have a manic deluded moment when x-factor auditioning seems a good idea... I must remember to watch my video and then review the situation from a realistic point of view.

If I was a better singer, and gooder guitarist, and if I was brave, i would post the video.

But I am not, so Im not going to!



Im going to post this cute little doodle instead:

Appreciation of Stuff

It is important to always appreciate stuff
So I am writing a list of my favourite things, to remind me of all the good things and remind me of who I am.

When I am Me....

I love life.

I love to be free. and run as far as I can.
I love to be outside and feel the grass under my feet and the wind rush through my hair.
I love to ride my bike so fast, the breeze rushes by and time is not important anymore. ooh I want to ride my bicycle. When I cycle so fast, the air captures all the buzzing in my head and cleans up all my messy thoughts and makes me peaceful inside. I love it when I am not too exhausted to move and I can move freely and see more clearly and become real again. I love it when I remember to breathe. Which is very important, by the way.

I love aminals. I love to see nature and to sit and be part of it, when everything is still. The animals have no worries and they understand without having to explain. They sense your soul instead. I love doggy woggys and monkeys and giraffes and elefunks. I would love love LOVE to ride an elephant. I love wondering how there can be so many living breathing creatures on the earth that are all so different. I love wondering what they think and if they feel the things that we do. I like believing that they do, cos I think they get me. This is how a person becomes a cat lady. I would still rather have an elephant, if it fits in my little flat. The main problem would probably be getting him up the stairs. And I guess I would need a bigger litter tray.

I love to create things. To design and make things. I love to have a blank canvas and turn it into something beautiful. Or even something ugly. anything that expresses my complicated feelings and helps to unlock the trapped feeling I sometimes get inside. I love how anything can be a blank colours. I love colours and shades and how a colour can say so much and set a mood that words cannot. I love how art is always different, endless possibilities. I love not knowing what is going to spew out of the pen or pastel or paintbrush and watching it unfold before me, and then feeling a sense of relief. Like a parrot with tourettes that has tried not to swear for a month, and then finally lets out a squawk of hilarious rude words.

I love words. I love writing them. I would like to use them more in real life, properly. I love how writing can make sense of the RAAAAAARRRR in my head. I love that I have the focus right now to spell it out. I love that I have a spell checker to control my dyslexic tendencies. I love how the word dyslexic is so incredibly hard to spell, what tit invented that?

I love to listen. To music, to the birds singing and the distant noises. and Silence.
I like to hear what people have to say. And what they don't say. I love people. Mostly. I like being a friend, and having friends. I love how we are all different and that everyone is exactly one of exactly them. I like it when I help someone, or feel that I have made someone smile. Unless they have smiled just because they looked at me and LOL'd.

I love to play the piano. My fingers move before my brain, and the notes tell a story that I didnt know I had inside me. But I dont have a piano, I have an acoustic guitar, which I love learning to learn to play. And I ove singing along when no-one is watching me and breathing with the melody. I love having this distracion. I love being able to concentrate on something that stops me thinking about other things. I love it when I can concentrate. I love it that I have learnt not to take these things for granted.

I love how there is good to be found in even the worst things. I love how something that is a curse can sometimes be a blessing. How by not having something, you learn to appreciate what you do have. I love being a positive person, inside. Sometimes life is good, sometimes life is shit, but life can always be funny if you look at it the right way. It can always be hopeful, if you wish that tomorrow will be better.

I love to imagine I am somewhere else. I love to hope that one day things will change. I like to be in another world, where it is safe, and nothing matters and anything can happen. I love to be me, when I am well. I love to feel that maybe, just maybe I can bring something good into the badness of the world. I love how I am just a teeny tiny dot in the scheme of the universe which takes the pressure off a lot if I fuck things up. That always relaxes me.

I love colours and textures and layers that make up layers of something else. I love the rain and thunderstorms and snow and I love the sunshine (as long as Im wearing sun cream thanks to the ginger gene and I dont want to toast like a teacake). I love the change of seasons. I like knowing that everything will pass. I love to dance. In private. I like yoga.

I love swimming, when I have the power, gliding through the water and feeling free. I like going underwater and holding my breath until I can feel the blood pumping round my body and bursting pressure in my head and struggling for air until my heart is about to stop.






And then taking that big breath in when the air goes back in your lungs and you remember to breathe, and its the freshest air in the whole wide world and I wake up a bit.

And the water rushing by and pretending I am a mermaid or a dolphin or a big fat whale. I HATE sharks, just got to see a picture of one and I'll be passed out at the magazine rack in Morrison's before you can say jaws...Jeez that was embarassing. Eurgh even seeing the word gives me the heebie jeebies.

When there are definitely no sh**ks within a 10 mile radius, I love to stand on the beach and watch the sea. The waves roll in and out, ticking like a clock and breathing like my lungs, in rhythim with my heart and making me peaceful again. Moment by moment, breath by breath, just going with the flow. No worries like.

I love the grass and not so much the sand but the cliffs and the trees and the flowers and the stars and the clouds and the moon and sky and the sun and the shadows it makes. The sky is so big and it makes me feel so small. That's what I like about it, that I am just a speck and its ok to make mistakes. The grains of sand are just specks too and they dont seem to worry half as much as we do. Although I've never been a grain of sand, that I can remember, so I dont really know. Imagine if each grain of sand is a tiny little world with lots of tiny people that live on it and we are giants to them. And the whole world is just one bigger grain of sand on somebody elses world and we are just like little borrowers to them.

Shut up brain.

I love to wake up to a new day when i wake up feeling hopeful. I love that first bit in the morning when you're not sure if your dreaming or real or if its morning yet or what day it is or who you are. And then you remember and your like oh crap.
You wake up and then it is the day and then it is the night and then it is the day againand the whole thing carries on even when you think you might fall off. Even when you want to get off. Things stay the same, and things can change. The world spins round and round and my life ticks by beside me, like Im watching from a distance and I am somewhere far away, my soul is somehwere else. I love having a cigarette sherbert lemon in the morning with a cup of coffee and trying to wake up to a better day, and hoping, it might be, and having the energy to just try my best. Which is all you can ever do.

I love England. The Open fields and the rivers and little quacky ducks and sheeps. I love Africa..I have a book all about it, it looks lush, Kenya I want to go. Red and yellow sunsets, wide open spaces, Timone and Pumba. Hakuna Matata.
I dont like how people can be starving just across the ocean from me and life can be so cruel and unjust and I wish I could do something about it. I love being able to appreciate how lucky I am. I dont like feeling that I am unworthy or selfish to be so fortunate. I love imagining that somehow all the good and the bad in the world will balance out so that life will be more equal.

I love how Bert just climbed on my lap and said "I want a cuddle" in his special meowy way and he is all warm and fluffy on my hands which are always cold. I love how they love me just because I give them food. It's nice that they dont expect too much. I love making them fat and squishy.

I love it when my senses wake up and my soul pops into place and i fit back into the world like the missing piece of a wonky jigsaw and everything will make sense again and the hole in my chest will get smaller and smaller. Life is good, as long as you are breathing there is more right with you than wrong with you.

Things I also love include :
Crumpets, Watching MJ's thriller video and the moonwalk, Swings, Ketchup, Matt Bellamy from Muse, my bed (not Matt in my bed), POP TARTS, stationary, VW campervans, Dougal and the gang from The Magic Roundabout, predictive texts gone wrong, b&w photos, F.R.I.E.N.D.S, The Spice Girls, TFF, scribbling, driving in my cute little Toyota Yaris (called Doris), sillyness, tattoos, slippers, pretending Hogwarts is real, roller blades, diet coke, chocolate, Irish people, and roast potatoes.

Oh and I suppose I should put kittens on this list so as not to offend anyone.
And Marmite, because its the law that youve got to have an oppinion on that.

I have summed up my list in 5 pictures (Matt takes up 2 of them, because he's a beaut):

Earls Court 2004...best thing ever

Dont get me started on the things I hate...

like, for example, mushrooms. Maths. bullying, brain fog, war, Social inequality, cat poo and Monopoly.

Some Pics

Here are some lovely old pics I found of little me, who I dont really recognise as me, my brother, my little cousin Loulie who is now about 6ft taller than me and now a beautiful young lady...and Ben and Sam, who are now 11 and 9, and who I dont see often enough and i should make more of an effort to get in touch.

I have lots of cousins who I should really see more often... I am thier biggest girl cousin and I havnt been able to be a very good one, since going a bit weird and in and out of hospital and being busy becoming a cat lady.
But I love them very much and am going to make more of an effort to see them.

So whilst Im on the topic, this is just to let them know that they are very very special to me

This is my little legend Jack, who, I am proud to say, recently ranked me 6th in his list of top 10 best people. :)

This is Sophie and Lauren. Last time I babysat we made a den on the floor and watched Barbie the movie, which for anyone who was thinking of watching it, I strongly do not recommend.

 And this is beautiful crazy Olivia Lee and little baby James.

Just so all you littluns know, I love you lots xx

Ummm

I didnt post anything in my blog today because i was going to but then i was too tired. This post now is completely uneccessary its just that i am in the swing of posting daily and i like routine and i dont want there to be an odd number of posts on my blog. i cant write much now because i cant decide what to write.
So i have just written this.