Sunday, 10 April 2016

Trying again.

I've been staring at this blank page for five minutes. I'm not optimistic, but I do remember that writing was, for a long time, incredibly cathartic. So here I am, hoping it will help this time. I'm giving it a shot anyway.

Right now, I am really confused. At a loss, even. I have definitely experienced this same confusion of having everything but feeling unhappy many times before, so it's nothing new. It's just here again. And I was hoping it wouldn't come back.

Things are objectively going well. I am making a difference. I am living an honest, truthful life. I have a wonderful family and fantastic friends. I am loved. I am doing my bit for the community and the planet. But I am somehow unhappy, and I don't know why. I don't know what is wrong with me, because for many people my current state of things would be sufficient for happiness. For some reason, my brain can't experience a reasonable level of happiness in its current environment. I don't know if that means I'm supposed to make changes, or self analyse in the hope of shifting expectations, or radically change my circumstances, or do nothing at all. The answer isn't written down anywhere, and even if it was, I probably wouldn't assimilate it anyway.

One of the things I find hardest is when other people don't get it. They don't understand how someone could feel this way, all things considered. Frankly, I don't get it either, and so I have no plausible explanation to offer anyone who asks. I just know that I'm feeling it, and it sucks.

I have been encouraged to 'get out of my head' as much as possible, when I start feeling like this. Makes sense, given that the inner turmoil is usually the result of too much time lost in thought and self-pity. But I can't get out of my head all day. In many ways, I need it - to think, to empathise, to understand, and to be present in the world. There are only so many hours in the day one can spend walking outdoors, watching movies, cleaning and working. Using time is fine - I have no real issues when I'm busy. It's the downtime that I find the hardest, because my brain power is not specifically allocated to ask, so it naturally gravitates towards underlying thoughts I have been thinking when there is nothing else to think about. 

I think writing that was helpful. Even if it made no sense. Somehow, in some small way, it made a difference to me.

Monday, 25 January 2016

Birthday post.

One of my really good friends is having her 25th birthday today. For our whole lives, we've been almost as close in age as two people can be, but it took us until about 2012 to become close friends. When we did, it happened quite quickly, and we've been close ever since.

When I think back to that dark time in 2013 when I didn't really have much going on in my life, I realise that it was never devoid of all hope. It felt like it sometimes, but in reality there was always hope, in the form of my friend. When I wasn't well enough to meet up, there would be a message in my inbox, waiting to be read. Whenever I was down, she was there. She never judged me. We talked about things that we hadn't shared with anyone before. I felt understood, and it was that understanding that helped me start to work through things that were keeping me small.

Years on, our lives have changed. We have grown as people and discovered our passions. We still check in. We celebrate our wins and cheer each other on. And we still share cat photos.

All is well in the world :)

Friday, 4 September 2015

Is the blog still on?

Yes, the blog is still on!

A busy few months since arriving back from the UK, clearly. I'm already cringing at my use of the word "busy" here, because it's such a cop out/not an excuse for letting important stuff fall by the wayside, but nevertheless that's what it's been like.

"Busy" is an interesting concept. Lots of us say we are, and so many of us think it's good to be busy. It is, in the sense that if you're busy chances are you're not festering at home. But it can also be a bad thing. Bad if you're so busy doing things that you're not able to chill out once in a while.

I realised the other day that I had been working for about 20 days straight, without a break, except perhaps to eat, sleep and watch the occasional episode of Antiques Roadshow. Scarily, this realisation only came because I finished a major task and had nothing else urgent to do. Post-realisation, I spent Saturday morning wandering around, cleaning things that didn't really need attention. In a moment of desperation, I joined in on the viewing of a somewhat irrelevant lecture, for a course that I'm not even enrolled in.

It was crazy. I was SO bored.

Like, really bored!

When boredom strikes, I have always had trouble recognising it. I'm so not used to being bored that I tend to keep doing things until all options are exhausted. I'm the car that finally stops running, because there is absolutely no petrol left to burn through.

On Saturday, once I noticed the boredom thing kicking in, I found active relaxation to be of benefit. Active relaxation is basically just code for "I can't relax of my own accord, so I have to do things that will trick my brain into relaxing." Reading a good book is one way to do this, I find. Also walking, having a chat with a friend, cooking, card-making, being creative... all the stuff I like to do but never do because I'm too "busy".

Monday, 6 July 2015


Petersham gardens.

Signets at Ham Common.

A new friend.

Carrot cake.

Wishing I lived here.

Teddington Lock.

The Science Museum shop.

A piece of the original model of DNA!

London Zoo.

The vacuum cleaner that will make you WANT to vacuum!

Pub lunch.

Home :)

Thursday, 11 June 2015


I listen to Enya.

Every night before I go to sleep, I put her music on. It's the same CD every time, and I'm sorry to say I don't even know what it's called. But I do know that there are ten tracks, and if I'm still awake by the time the CD ends, there's definitely something on my mind.

I've listened to Enya since I was a child. I expect it was a parent's attempt at helping me get to sleep, as switching off is something I've always struggled with. When I got older, I realised that listening to Enya in order to relax is "a thing", and it became clear that poor Enya has a reputation for being serene and calm and tranquil all the time. I wonder what she thinks about this.

There's this one song on the album I listen to - track 2 - which is surprisingly upbeat for Enya. It's got appreciable momentum and serious rhythm. Again, I don't know what it's called. But the drummer in me likes the feel of it.

During a recent episode of thinking too much, it occurred to me that we often typecast people. Enya, for example. I'm not in the habit of making sweeping statements, and I try very hard not to generalise, but whenever I talk about Enya, it's hard for me not to mention relaxation and sleep-inducing melodies.

What happens if one day Enya decides that she's done with her chill music and wants to move into punk rock? Would it be weird? Well, yeah! At least at first. For those of us who knew Enya as the "sleep lady" when we were kids, it'd be weird.

But it shouldn't be. It should just be like, "oh ok, you're doing that now. Cool! Hope it works out, and have fun."

I know a number of people in their early to mid twenties who are freaking out right now because something they thought was at the centre of their existence has turned out to be massively peripheral. It's awful when you realise that who you are is not actually who you are. This happened to me a couple of years ago, and it was unbelievably confusing and messy. I was trying to be myself, but in doing that I was being the opposite. It was so weird.

So I guess I'm just hanging out for Enya's future career as a punk rocker. Or anyone who's prepared to dive into change, and own it. Because if everyone was as open to changing it up in life as they are to eating different food every day, I think we could all relax about who we're supposed to be, and just be whoever rocks up that day.