20.5.18

since I've been gone

This is probably the first (and last) post that I will not introduce with a self-deprecating monologue about how much of a shit blogger I am. I use the term blogger loosely because I'm not sure if you can call yourself one if you don't get paid and, given the quality of my blog, it's very evident that I don't.

Today I will be boring you with a life update. I've been gone for three months and even I'm surprised at myself. This time last year, I never would have imagined that I actually semi had my shit together.

I have become slave to a minimum wage job. I am not destined to work in hospitality and I desperately need a change. And a pay rise. I need something stable that will fund my ASOS addiction.

Despite my outrageous(ly low) salary, I manage to scrape together enough each month to rent myself a modest sized room in Zone 3. I live with four boys and sometimes they don't flush the toilet after they pee but I still like them so far.

I went to a university open day because apparently dropping out twice already hasn't taught me anything. Third time lucky, I hope.

I've downloaded Tinder again but I will be doing things differently this time. By that, I mean I haven't jumped into a relationship with the first person I met. Which, in all fairness, did actually work out pretty well for me last time. The best way I can define what I'm looking for is if I'm unable to respond to at least one of Oloni's infamous ladies, let's have some fun threads then I'm doing something seriously wrong.

I may not be financially stable but I am mentally stable. Most days, at least. I have even been given a repeat prescription of my meds. I'm now certified crazy.

I'm no longer waiting. I got bored. I was always 10 steps ahead. I constantly thought about the future. I was a childhood overachiever which unfortunately led into a dangerous obsession with being perfect. Every decision I made had to be the right one. Julie Cameron, a woman I had no idea existed until I googled perfectionism quotes, once described perfectionism as "a pursuit of the worst in ourselves, the part that tells us that nothing we do will ever be good enough - that we should try again". And basically, fuck that. I'm out for good. 

5.2.18

soundtrack of the month: january



1, 2: The songs that all the basic bitches are listening too, including me because I’m proudly one 

3: The song I need to stop listening to because it reminds me of an ex 

4: The song my best friend sent me to help get over said ex 

5: The song I cannot stop listening to that I will inevitably get sick of with enough

6: The song I keep hearing on that one Apple iPad ad that always plays before YouTube videos these days that I can never get out of my head for the rest of the day once I’ve heard it 
 
7: The song that goes perfectly with a rainy afternoon tucked in bed hiding from my responsibilities which makes me feel like I've crawled inside my screen into a Tumblr post about depression

8: The song I’m not cool enough to really 'get' 
but that I listen to anyway 

9: The song that desperately makes me wish I could sing and play the piano

2.2.18

9 things to look forward to in february

You've probably guessed it, this is an Anti-Valentine's Day post. I'm sure you all know that I'm single by now due to the bitter digs at my ex and the constant references to the break-up. Here's a list of things I'm going to be distracting myself with during the month of love.

1. Celebs Go Dating which starts on 4th starring Queen GC. Gemma Collins is one of the most quotable celebrities, the quotes of which  I'm sure will go on to inspire generations. GC also features heavily in my meme collection. I can't actually remember who else will be on the show because, let's face it, they're not important.




















2. Shrove Tuesday falls on the 13th this year. I've already got my 30p Sainsbury's Basics Batter Mix, Jif Squeezy Lemon and sugar purchased. I'm also really looking forward to all the pancake porn across social media.

3. The annual Orchid Festival at Kew Gardens is back for a 23rd year this month. This is one of those events on Facebook that you'll have probably seen some of your friends click *interested* in attending but in reality they'll never go. Well, this is one they definitely should not miss and you shouldn't either.

4. Margarita Day is on the 22nd. Made up days usually piss me off but I love tequila so all is forgiven.

























5. Eat Ice Cream For Breakfast Day on the 18th is another made up day which I'm willing to reserve my judgements for. I've been dying to try Halo Top which is both low-calorie and instagrammable so it's a win-win.

6. V-day brings out the best in lingerie retailers. ASOS usually never disappoints but I feel like their collection is lacking this year. Plus size pieces that are actually decent are hard to come by so if you have any suggestions please help a girl out and comment below.

7. Six Nations begins tomorrow. After playing, or at least attempting to, when I was at university I'm looking to try again and join my local team. I always use work as a reason not to go which I know is total bullshit because when I actually have the day off work, I muster up another excuse as to why I'm unable to make it. Anyway, I'm hoping watching some live games will inspire me to finally get off my arse.

8. mytoecold is back! He's my favourite YouTuber and undoubtedly your new favourite too.



9. Lastly, a snap from Team Snapchat on the 14th to really rub salt into the wound of being a single pringle when the 14th comes around.

30.1.18

when the switch flicks

With age comes wisdom, for most people anyway. Some people are stupid and will forever remain that way. Like my ex, for example.

Imagine this: you wake up in the middle of the night usually to go for a wee because you've been doing so well at your drink-8-glasses-a-day New Year resolution but right now it seems like a curse. You reluctantly stumble out of bed and head towards the door and fumble to turn the hallway light on so you don't accidentally stub your toe on the ugly oversized bureau which your Mum insists is practical. You finally locate it and clumsily flick the switch and the lightbulb instantly illuminates. At first you're blinded but once your eyes adjust, the stairs to the bathroom appear perfectly lit up as if a pathway to heaven.

The process of self-actualisation is much like that lightbulb moment when the switch flicks except all of that is happening inside of your head. Well, sort of. Basically, what I'm trying to say is that it takes you a little while to navigate through life's ups and downs and all the other crap it throws in your face. It feels like you're never going to get anywhere. Ever. But then, one day you'll just wake up and unexpectedly feel a life-affirming shift in perspective.

I had one of these epiphanies during one of the many overly tipsy (AKA drunk) conversations with new gal pals in a nightclub bathroom. Those girls who tell you how gorgeous you look are, and will always be, national treasures. Of course you shouldn't feel the need to be validated by some randomers on a night out but, strange as it may seem, these encounters have often led me to give myself a motivational talking to.

You see, getting ready for any outing, even just a corner shop emergency chocolate run, was once a chore for me. I hated how any single piece of clothing looked on my fat body. My hair was unbelievably frizzy. And all that was way before I even attempted to put any make up on. My eyeshadow was always simply shit. My teeth always appear yellowish upon application of any shade of lipstick. And, despite what all the YouTube gurus tell you, all the baking and setting spray in the world could never eliminate the oil from my T-zone. If I was lucky, I only ended up in tears but too many times it manifested into an ugly panic attack which usually sent me back into bed where I would stay not to be seen by the world for a few days because of how ugly and disgusting I thought I was.

One day, as if by magic, everything changed. I decided that I didn't want, but more importantly, didn't need to care anymore. Or maybe in reality I was just exhausted. Either way, my mindset had completely changed. I was going to be confident. I was faking it at first but eventually I did made it. Just like they say you do. Don't get me wrong, the voices in my head were still there but I realised I had the ability not to listen and put them on mute, so to speak. Ultimately, I think the thought of living a life where I obsess daily over my appearance was truly terrifying. Now when I look in the mirror, even if my eyebrows look at best like 1st cousins, I can still appreciate that I am beautiful. The same goes for when I catch a glimpse of my reflection in a bus window driving past and I see my VBL (Visible Belly Line) on full display,  I can't help but think my (not so) little pouch is actually quite cute.

Another example dates back to about a year ago, when I met a counsellor who I feel like I owe my life to. I hope she gets all the karma she deserves. I went to see her because I desperately sought answers. I couldn't make sense of my thoughts anymore and some help was well overdue. I needed to escape from my own mind and I eventually did. We worked through my issues session by session and I eventually had a major breakthrough. On what turned out to be my very last appointment, as usual, I filled out a mood self-assessment questionnaire and the results were interesting. I'd scored extremely high for low moods and feeling panicky despite the fact that I felt better than ever.

My counsellor asked me to explain. I tried and I failed. I can never pin point the exact point in my life when my depression hit but it came hard and fast and it was seemingly existential. Depression consumed me entirely and controlled ever single aspect of my life. It had become part of my identity. At this point during the session, I realised that for the longest time I just thought that being a moody cow was part of who I was. I opened up about how I genuinely believed I had an innate incapacity to be happy or even content. Depression isn't a personality trait though, which seems obvious now however at the time it hadn't been. I also had the same issue with anxiety. I'm still currently working on separating my mental health from my personality and identity in general by trying to differentiate the characteristics of depression and anxiety from my character as a person.  Nonetheless, now that I am aware, I know to ask myself whether its me or my mental illness that's come out to play.

It would appear that I'm finally having my 2k16 Kylie moment of realising things. I think it's also just called growing up or, to put it more eloquently, having your very own personal enlightenment.