Somewhat of a plea

At school, we were advised to plan essays before launching straight into them. Same went for extended exam answers. You'll probably hear that it's helpful at work or for crafting blog posts too. It's a piece of advice I know would make a lot of sense, were my thoughts and mind rambles in any coherent or logical order so it's a rule that I have avoided like the plague and very often regretted, midway through an essay in an exam when my argument failed to make sense to even its author.

But as I type now, I have set myself one challenge - just type, type to the beat of the Laura Marling album I'm listening to (thankfully for the post it's coincided with some more upbeat tracks or else we might be here til next year and this post would not have been worth waiting for in way shape or form). I've not prepared what I want to say, where I'm headed in this prose, what the purpose even is of me spouting nouns and verbs and adjectives in any which way my fingers decide. (How strange, the track ended and there was silence here and my typing naturally stopped.)

When you're at school, you're guided in all manner of directions (usually forward) via tests, rules and guidance. My schooling was intense in hindsight. I poured most of my existence into academia up until university and I generally knew what I was doing. I did my homework, achieved my grades, went to university and was proud of all of it. But does any of this translate into the real world? Sure it helped me get a good job, instilled great work ethic in me and nurtured curiosity, but beyond that? It isn't helping me now, I'm stuck in this mental state where I feel trapped and don't know what it is that I'm looking for.

Lots of things feel like they're missing. Energy being top of the list and that has zapped the rest. I look back at my blog and admire the drive and commitment I had to making this space work. It was a sanctuary for me and I am proud of what I achieved but I don't always feel like I can give it the same love I did before. I don't want to write any of this. It doesn't make any sense to completely shoot down something that I know brings me so much joy and stimulates my mind and creativity. But I feel like my brain has shrunk, like my opinions on things are feelings not words, and those feelings are trapped in a bottle, are being shaken about but can't make their way out. They're squiggles and lines and patterns. But not words. Words have gone, in a public sense at least. It's almost like the patience I had to craft sentences and paragraphs has disappeared. I don't have the patience to grow into anything and often I find myself blaming social media and my disintegrating attention span. And on the other hand, I feel that I'm living in my own head far too much.

I need some projects and focus. Perhaps I do need a plan after all. And from you, the readers who inspire me with your own words and ideas and who have cared for me with such loyalty over the last few years, I would be eternally grateful for your patience and advice whilst I get myself out of this rut.

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A note on raising awareness about eating disorders

I've been looking for a new name for my blog for a while and when I think about what I write about, it makes me think that I should call this blog something along the lines of "wishes she could be more eloquent and articulate about things that really matter", but of course more eloquent and articulate. In my little writing world, there is no time more frustrating than when something is close to my heart but I can't find the words to do those topics or feelings justice. But hey, if you're a veteran FMLW reader, you'll know about that already (see here if not).

Last week was Eating Disorders Awareness Week. My attempts at writing something wouldn't do anything justice at all. All I know is that we should be talking about it. So, I would like to share with you words from two people who I love an awful lot and who inspire me on a daily basis. 

Here are their stories:

(If this topic is something you identify with or is close to your heart too, and you are in need of support, then just a little note that Beat is there to help. Their number is 0845 634 1414) 

                                                                                                                                                        

"It is Eating Disorders Awareness Week. I'm sharing my experience of anorexia to inform and feel less ashamed of having it. 

Anorexia is not a weight disorder. Someone with anorexia might not be extremely thin and someone who is extremely thin might not have anorexia. Disordered eaters might not have an eating disorder. Dieting is not the same as having anorexia. Skipping a meal is not the same as having anorexia. 

People with anorexia do eat. Anorexia should not be glamourised or be something people aspire to. It is NOT a choice. It is a mental health illness. Someone I met once said that they wished they had anorexia. But if only people really knew what it was like then they wouldn't say this.

Anorexia is like having a bully 24 hours a day, constantly chattering away in your ear - even when you sleep. You dream of food and have nightmares about weight. 

It is every second of every day thinking about food, calories and numbers. It is crying hysterically for hours over weight gain. It is wanting to die because you can't take the voices any more. It is screaming at family and crying in public, both over food. It is not leaving the house, showering or changing in fear of seeing your body. 

It is countless doctors appointments, ECGs and blood tests. It is using the word "fat" as a feeling. It is doing things I am too ashamed to even say. 

There is no break from this illness. There is no off button. It is constant torment all day every day.

Mainly, I want to get across that it is NOT a weight disorder. The anorexia voice does not disappear once at a healthy weight. It gets louder as you're fighting against it. Over the past seven years of being ill with anorexia, my weight has fluctuated and yet every one of those days that voice has still been there.

You don't just lose weight - you lose time, life, friends. It is exhausting - I cannot wait for the day that voice quietens down so that I can eat a meal without crying of guilt afterwards. I may have this forever but I hope to get to a stage where there is less noise in my head.

I am not giving up. I am stronger than my eating disorder. I am R and I love cats. I love baking cakes and I love kind people. I love Options and blankets. I love cute pyjamas and baggy jumpers. I want to be a nurse. I have anorexia. But I am not my eating disorder."

                                                                                                                                                            

"To help break the silence, this week I am raising awareness of eating orders. I am never going to know what it is like for those suffering, but even just seeing the closest people to me go through such internal torture is enough to know something more has to be done.

For me, I would like to alleviate the stigma surrounding anorexia. Anorexia is a mental health disorder, not a weight disorder, that takes over people's lives one minute at a time. 

For those who think it is a choice to becoming life-threateningly thin, it is most definitely not and not one person can decide not to have the disorder for a day. The voices inside of them are continuous comments of abuse which harm their self esteem and skew the view of their body image. 

It is heartbreaking to see or even know of the constant suffering this causes people. Friends and family of sufferers can feel so helpless all the time, so this week I want to be able to help in other ways.

I am helping to raise awareness of how serious eating disorders actually are. I am raising awareness of how they can affect anyone, including males, and I know of too many people suffering too long without help. Being put on countless, forever-lasting waiting lists, which go nowhere, is not enough. The media portraying these illnesses to young people as something glamorous to strive for is so incredibly wrong that people have to know the truth.

There are too many misconceptions about eating disorders to list, but hopefully by raising awareness, message by message, the unfortunate reality will be known and therefore help sufferers feel less stigmatised in society."

                                                                                                                                                             

We have to keep talking.

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Scribbled

From notes on my phone ::

Ever listened to a conversation between two strangers and realised that you have uttered those same words to someone before too? Two, three, five, fifty, infinite combinations of strangers having infinite combinations of repeated conversations.

The same thoughts, the same words, the same expressions of delight, the same disdain, the same judgement.

Our minds are unique and form part of "who we are" yet your observations and realisations may just be, and probably often are, the same ones that thousands before you and thousands after you will have. Without even speaking to these strangers we have common thought patterns and processes; without even knowing these strangers we share reactions and observational dialogue.

Just a little thought about how intrinsically similar we all are as humans.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

P.S. Hello again x

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Back to Basics

I can't write. I've tried and I've tried but I can't do it at the moment. Not in the way I would like to anyhow. Not even one of my Taking Stock posts.  Tiredness, distraction by other things, not enough reading, not enough imagining.

I've tried to put together pieces for this blog, I miss writing and I miss the cathartic value of putting pen to paper. I miss stringing together words in sentences which don't sound basic. I miss having something to say. I miss knowing my tone and voice.

My routine is a tiring one, fulfilling in many ways, but harsh on other passions like this, like reading, like writing, like yoga. In this adjustment phase, each day is a single-lane road, my body exhausted and mind consumed. I'm not unhappy, I'm just not exploring much in the way that I used to. I'm unhappy about that but I'm working on it. I never put pressure on myself to post on here, I only ever did when there was something within me that could not be still. The words would spill out without even trying. So why should I worry about this inability to convey now? Is it just not the right time or place? Is this the end of my run here? Quite simply, it is unsettling because I have a hundred thoughts I want to share, and thousands of feelings that won't quieten til they're out, but no tool to paint them with.

Writing fluidly comes with practice, so step one is this post - not least because it doesn't sound exactly how I would like it to. Step two will be picking up a book and starting there. I do believe that to be able to write, you must first read. Step three might come from your advice if you have any.

Thanks for bearing with me during the radio silence. I hope to be back properly soon.

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Lessons learnt moving out of home and away from London

I started writing this blog post a couple of weeks ago. So here is how it started.....

"I am writing this in my local library. We've been moved in two weeks and wifi still hasn't happened. This may well be a personal record... I am so eager to type all of my thoughts and observations out at the pace at which they're running through my head but unfortunately I've got to contend with a space bar which requires two thumbs to press it down and the eccentric sound of a father and toddler daughter singing a song from "Chitty Chitty Bang Bang". In a library. Yep. Welcome to my weekend! Life is weird away from home (London) sometimes. Anyhow, here is a little list of things I have learnt moving out of home... "

Then, as you can gather from the distinct lack of list, I decided to give up and go home (via three awesome charity shops). Now here I am two weeks later, sitting on my bed in the comfort of my new home with wifi galore. I suppose that can be lesson number one - transitions are unsettling sometimes but the beauty of them is that they're temporary.

Anyway, not only did I fail to complete the list or the blog post, I didn't return to Blogger again up until now. Where have I been? Well, just here really. Here and at work, and in my car getting between here and work. And on trains getting between here and work when work isn't at work. Up until this month - and can you believe that this is only post number three of September when we are pretty much in October? - I blogged regularly with the energy I'd been bottling up from all of those hours of rest. It was a full-time hobby, a creative outlet and something I loved. I still do love it now, but here's lesson number two - real life can get in the way!

I assume it is the adjustment that needs to be made when you move to a new town, in with a partner, starting a new job, thrown in with a weekend going back home for birthday celebrations, which has stolen me away from tending to this online space of mine. I come home and feel too exhausted to even turn the laptop on, let alone spill my thoughts onto paper. Oh and talking of paper, driving everywhere means that I spend little time on trains which means less time putting pen to paper for non-work related activities. So there's a little explanation of where I have been. I would imagine that my routine will form soon enough and that will make time for blogging, yoga, exercise and other things which have taken a back-seat.

So what else have I learnt about moving out of home? Well, mostly that parents do an amazing job managing work, life worries, organising and cooking meals, making packed lunches, doing the washing and ironing, owning an ironing basket in the first place, owning a hoover, using a hoover, knowing how to do basic plumbing, knowing how to dry a bath mat, taking care of more than one person and doing all of it everyday without fail. Wow.

But also that it is hugely exciting to know that you can learn to do all of these things, and more, yourself too. Things become second-nature, your skill set widens, your interests diversify...I wasn't anywhere near as interested in dish-drying racks ever in my life as I was trying to find the perfect one during week two of living here!

Also, there's a lot of paperwork involved in moving house. Keeping a folder handy for filing important documents and knowing where to find them is super helpful in those moments when you realise you're an "actual grown-up" now and it's your responsibility to pay for things that come out of taps and plug sockets. Get your favourite stationery involved so it feels less boring :)

More specifically, I'm having to get used to seeing a whole new level of road-kill in these countryside-ish ends. Blerrrrrrgh...not a sight I'm used to in London. Plus it reminds me every morning of a documentary I once watched in which I learnt that some people actively look for road-kill to eat for their dinner. Blerrrrrrgh again.

I suppose that leads on quite nicely to another major lesson I've learnt - and this may shock you so brace yourselves - there is a world outside London!! Growing up in one place, loving it and then leaving and not knowing if you'll ever go back is a daunting thought and one which I tried not to entertain too much prior to moving but crept into my head from time to time. Living away from the bustle of the city is somewhat of a shock to the system - as is the size of the "big" supermarkets (tiny, for the record) - but I am beginning to appreciate tranquillity and not queuing up for 15 minutes in each shop, not striding down the high street willing people to move out of your way because you are on a mission, nor being on a mission because quite frankly what's the constant rush all about? Sure, I miss the variety and choice of food, entertainment and people in London, I miss my family and friends, and I will always consider London to be "home home", but starting a new little life here, with all the humongous changes and (un)anticipated challenges, with M, quite frankly feels like one of the best things I have ever done.

And whilst that doesn't take away existing hardship, it certainly feels like a nudge in the right direction, which is the last little lesson I'll leave you with - if you can create a positive space in which you feel safe, whilst accepting that change is inescapable, then that's a pretty good foundation for whatever you decide to conquer next.

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"Feminist Fridays" with Clear The Way

We all know that blogging is super and brings a host of opportunities that you would never have imagined when you first started out, right?

If you're a long-term reader of Fill My Little World or one of my favourite types of reader i.e. the type that goes back to old posts to figure out how all these ramblings came to be, you'll know that it kick-started properly (after older, half-committed attempts) after a period of illness a few years ago. It was my own personal project to focus on the splendid and I didn't realise how fantastic a tool it would be to connect with like-minded individuals.

You'll also have picked up on my interest in voicing opinions but not quite knowing how best to do so to do them justice - as explored here and here - so it is with tremendous excitement that I introduce you today to a blog which is new to me, but probably not new to many of you (on account of its marvellousness) - Clear the Way by Kate.

Kate has managed to find a way of creating a positive space to encounter feminism in an objective way. Each week, Kate asks a question - how do you deal with.....? As I explained to Kate herself when expressing my gratitude that she had cracked this code that had been troubling me, I find it so significant and utterly brilliant how she curates a platform for feminism and related issues to be discussed accessibly and relevantly. It has been a wonderfully enriching experience reading past entries and I'm so happy that we are able to talk about these things that are affecting us daily. Projects like this and Everyday Sexism are steps in breaking down barriers to discussion and give me hope that progress can continue to be made.

Step this way to see my thoughts on how to deal with negativity and disapproval surrounding feminism. Needless to say they don't stop me from trying.

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"Authenticity" and Tori's Tales

Dartington Hall, Devon

Today I have the pleasure of appearing on Tori's Tales to take part in the wonderful Tori's Quotes series. The series is one which I have been following since Tori created it in March this year - it reminds me of the words of wisdom I find on Pinterest on a weekly basis (how great that I have cut that down to weekly now, instead of "hourly"! A round of applause for me!). How funny that we take them at face value most of the time. I very often read those quotations and either identify with them or not straight away, based on gut instinct and natural reactions - I rarely stop to dissect the quotation to figure out if I REALLY agree with it or not. Tori's Quotes is one of the first opportunities that I've taken to really analyse something with reference to my own actual experiences, rather than how I feel about it on a snap judgement level. Which is baffling in itself given that I feel like I analyse (or over-analyse) most things.

The quotation up for discussion this month revolves around the topic of "authenticity" and reads as follows ::

"To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment."

       - Ralph Waldo Emerson

I'm a big advocate of being true to yourself and doing things in the way that works for you, not having to conform to the "norm" and being ready to challenge things that aren't quite right without fear of judgement.

What do you make of that in isolation? And how about if you relate it to blogging?

You can find my full thoughts on the matter here, but here's a snippet:

"Don't be fooled that you need to write in a particular way, or set your posts out in the same style as the other blogs you read....don't be afraid to stand out - nobody is interested in copies or clones. Your mind is capable of producing something incredibly unique if you let yourself." 

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Finding joy and getting stuff done

Spotted in Valldemossa, Mallorca

As I write this, I am sitting in my room with a towel turban on my head. About 30 seconds ago, I caught sight of myself in the bathroom mirror and did an inward giggle. Do you know the ones I mean? Those discernibly silent laughs which speak volumes in your facial muscles, like someone has metaphorically turned up the volume on your favourite song and your nose and cheeks dance in a scrunched up fashion. Sort of like a crazy smile, I suppose. A crazy smile of a stunned gremlin.

Anyhow, aside from the fact that I almost didn't recognise myself because of the aforementioned creepy grin and hair-drying contraption on head, what I noticed was that this is the feeling I get when the simplest things manage to tap into the blotchy bits of my heart and push them away for a moment (or longer, if I'm lucky). Instead, they make room for a sense of confidence in the fact that a little thing has brightened up my evening.

Today was one of those days where I managed to scoop up all the confidence I could from small joys around me and dish it out in the tasks in order to get through my day productively. It was a huge success! I didn't even realise that's what I was doing until my weird mirror revelation a moment ago.

What I am trying to say is that you can be feeling intrinsically and somewhat permanently broken, sad or consumed on one level but it is important to remember that room for light can exist if only you allow yourself to see.

I hope that if you are in need of a coping mechanism, you haven't ruled out the little things yet.

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Why we write

Writing :: putting words next to one another to somehow make sense of the mind’s mazes.

Ernest Hemingway described it rather aptly as just needing to “sit down at a typewriter and bleed”.

Bleeding :: a negative sensation showing a tear in your exterior, a crack in your soul.

Negativity :: the catalyst for many masterpieces; or hindrance for your passions.

Passions :: include writing.

How then to get yourself out of the circle which feeds on your apathy and unwillingness to share with others and, more importantly, yourself how you are feeling? For a public sphere, privacy jumps in to guard or excuse you, but what’s holding you back from spilling your mind’s cocktail and soaking personal pages with at least acknowledgement of blood?

Being busy solidifies any numbness which may be protecting you but the evidence is clear-cut from your history of cathartic pieces – you need to write. To rationalise, to heal and to move forward.

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Miss Representation // How you can challenge the portrayal of women in the media

From here

You're likely to have seen tweets flying around about the film "Miss Representation" - a feature-length documentary that absolutely everyone must see, in my opinion. If you know me or are a regular reader, it'll come as no surprise to you that it is to do with the portrayal of women in the media and the damaging effects that has. I've spoken before about not quite being able to articulate how passionately I feel about issues revolving around sexism - I'm still learning - but here is some advice given at the end of the film about how each of us can spark a change in attitude and challenge the terrifyingly normalised evils we are bombarded with daily.

What you can and absolutely should do [some lifted/some paraphrased]

• Measure yourself by your accomplishments, not by the way you look
• If, every time you pass a mirror, downgrade our how we look or complain about how we look, remember that a girl is watching us and that’s how she is learning
• Reflect on the ways you may contribute to sexism – e.g. we scrutinise women “Look how old/grey she has become” “What is she wearing?” We need to stop that destructive behaviour that we inflict upon each other and also onto ourselves
• Support media which champions accomplished women – we need strong women role models who are in the media because they did something, because they’re doing great work, not because they have the most “banging” body or they’re the “sexiest woman of 2010”. That’s philanthropists, those in the medical field, and it’s not about the way they look, it’s about who they are inside
• Boycott magazines, TV shows, movies that objectify and degrade women
• Speaking your mind and criticising media companies when you think they are doing things which are inappropriate to children
• Go see movies written and directed by women – important to go on opening weekend and Friday nights because these are the nights that Hollywood tracks.
• Write your own stories and create your own media about powerful women in non-traditional roles
• Teach those around you to look at the media critically
• Ask your school to start a media literacy course focussed on female issues – look at whose perspectives are framing a story, there’s always two or more sides to a story etc
• Don’t be afraid to challenge your friends if you hear them saying derogatory things about women – the problem today is not the vitriolic words of bad people, it’s the appalling silence and inaction of good people
• Find healthy role models and be a mentor to others
• Encourage women to become leaders and support them in the process

It is heart-breaking how few people know their true worth. You as a completely splendid human being are 100% worth standing up for, as are those around you. Whichever gender you are.

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I've got something to say.

Maybe grab a cuppa, this is a long one...

Earlier this week, I cried with a big group of strangers.

This isn't just a new hobby that I've taken up as a Tuesday afternoon affair, nor was it an expected or planned reaction to what I thought was just going to be an informative event. Actually, what it was was a realisation. A realisation about myself, my health, other people and gratitude.

I've spoken a bit in the past about Deep Vein Thrombosis. Indeed this blog was reborn a couple of years ago following my diagnosis and a desire to fill a void as the world I was used to and knew how to survive in was re-landscaped and I started to learn how to readjust my lifestyle. Along with that came the forced realignment of expectations and a change in the way I viewed myself.

My space on the internet was never really intended to be somewhere I vented about my health; I just wanted to educate people about my condition because it is something which can affect literally anybody and I didn't want anybody to come across it like I did and not know what was happening. I didn't want to complain about my experience, nor gain anybody's sympathy, through my posts about DVT and hospital visits etc, just to raise awareness. This was certainly fuelled by the other things that have been going on in my personal life and those closest to me in the last few years, meaning that as much as my illness had completely shaken up life as I knew it, I had this new-found sense of perspective that discouraged me from taking it too seriously. I'd had a rough time, sure, but the way I saw it, I felt lucky and humbled to be alive and that's as far as it went.

There were far more pressing and heart-breaking things that needed my attention and that of my closest friends and family, that I felt like I didn't want anybody to worry about me. I was fine, on the mend, learning to cope and had achieved some pretty cool stuff like finally finishing my degree and getting a job. Life had changed but I'd received amazing medical care, had a helpful operation and had got to know my physical limits.

Naturally, putting a positive spin on things that aren't all that positive will catch up with you from time to time. The event I went to this week was the first ever Lifeblood Thrombosis Patients' Day at St Thomas' Hospital, London. I had signed up to attend because I like knowing as much as I can about most things, especially when it comes to my own health. I had expected the day to be an educating experience from a medical perspective but I hadn't thought it would be such an emotional one. Hearing other patients, similar to my age, tell their stories unlocked this grief I suppose I had been hiding all this time.

I realised that for months and months, I had been plodding along trying to explain what it feels like everyday even though you cannot see that there is anything wrong. More accurately, I'd given up attempts to explain because I'd been met with comments like "Why are you still unwell? It's been ages" and "It must be psychological". People's ignorance and audacity to air it had discouraged me from voicing what it was actually like. At the same time, the knock-on effects of the illness became more and more part of my everyday self and I'd slowly started to forget the trauma I'd been through as the physical and lifestyle adjustments I'd made became more ingrained in my routine and almost taken for granted. I was beginning to forget that I was ill and that was a wonderful feeling. I didn't ever want to be known as the "girl with the blood clot" and I was finally teaching myself to shake off this label.

The words that I was hearing explaining other's experiences could have been lifted from my own tales. Listening to other people describe things like taking a rest day after a busy one, spending most of life in pyjamas, dragging their leg, having to cancel plans, constantly feeling exhausted, apologising for needing to sit down or stand up or putting their leg up, daily pain, a love/hate relationship with compression stockings, feeling lost and lonely, made me realise that I had forgotten how far I have come. I'd been ignoring the reality of my situation and that works a lot of the time but there was a time when these things were not things that I took for granted, not part of my everyday life. I'd gone from not being able to place my foot on the floor, not being able to sit up for longer than 30 seconds, struggling to get by on even the strongest medication, needing help getting out of bed, being pushed around in a wheelchair, being stopped in the street to be asked what had happened to me to have to be using crutches, being stared at and obviously spoken about for using a stick, to making tiny steps forward to eventually get to where I am now. I'd vented my frustration to my family and those friends who are pretty much family anyway, and their support was unbelievably helpful, but if you put me in a hospital where I'd been rushed into A&E before, or if I walk past a ward I'd spent nights in agony, or I meet with people who know how vulnerable I'd been but not reached out, then those feelings get tucked away and I sit biting my lip for want of trapping the tears.

And here these strangers were, articulating exactly how I felt. Without knowing me at all, they knew all of my innermost secrets, worries and feelings of uncertainty. They knew what I had been through and what it is like because they had been there and are there too. So I cried. I cried because I hadn't been able to articulate how I had been feeling all this time for fear it would be belittled and not serious enough to warrant airtime. I cried because these people knew that when someone asks "How's the leg?" what you really want them to be asking is "How are you coping?" and then be there for you without asking for it. I cried because they had taken their illness and the frustrations that come with it, and positively channelled that into making a change in a variety of ways, such as fundraising for Lifeblood with their friends and making connections to psychologically support fellow sufferers. I cried because they re-emphasised how lucky I am to be here and that I've had access to such incredible treatment. And these strangers were receptive, they were warm and they cried with me too. They recognised the importance of somebody just listening, just being there and if they understand it, well that's just a ridiculously comforting bonus.

What I would like to say is the following:

1) When you're going through a difficult time - whatever that might be - it is all too easy to think that nobody understands what it's like. It's true that most people won't get it and will throw about insensitive comments that stick with you longer than you'd like them to. But, however unique our situations may seem, we are not the only people who have experienced them. We are not as alone as we think. It may take a bit of time to find them, but when you feel ready to, try - whether that's online, at a support group, in a friend or by complete accident.

2) Whatever comments are thrown your way, never feel like you need approval for how you're feeling and whether it is worthy enough. Keep perspective in mind, but don't let somebody who has no idea what you've been through dictate how you approach your coping mechanisms. Only you know how things work for you, what your body is capable of, whether you need to rest, what adjustments need to be made, or how much time something completely personal to you takes.

3) Who do you love? What are you doing about it? If you care about somebody, please show them. Consistency is key but it's rarely too late to start that.

My day with Lifeblood wasn't all tears. I became even more appreciative of the care I have received, the quality of the medical teams looking after me and the genius procedure I have had which hopefully has set me up for long-term recovery. I heard stories of those who have found themselves battling clots for years and years with a strong smile on their face and unwavering positivity and gratitude for life, and those who have lost loved ones suddenly. Like I mentioned in this list I drew up a few weeks ago, gratitude gives me a bit of a wake-up call and the realisations I experienced have given me a much better idea of the attitude I wish to go forward with. I'm going to take inspiration from the current fundraisers and follow their lead. I'm going to go back to not dwelling on where I find myself having now almost cleansed myself of the negative responses I've had. The hugs and sweet words of encouragement are things that I'm going to focus on and take forward with me.

If you've read down this far, congratulations and thank you. I'll go back to posting about naughty kitten tales and ridiculously aesthetically pleasing food soon enough, but I couldn't not share these revelations with you. Blogging is a glossy version of events a lot of the time and although I've barely scratched the surface with this topic and don't intend to talk too much about personal matters, I hope this helps you feel strong enough to stand up for yourself and your health.

I'll leave you with a small request, if that's okay with you. I met the founder of the website "Take Time Out", who is fighting to raise awareness of Deep Vein Thrombosis and Pulmonary Embolisms after sadly losing his son, Chris Staniforth, very suddenly from DVT. His message is a very practical one - take time out. Whether you're behind a desk, in front of a games console, during a flight or on a coach, get up and move around at regular intervals to reduce your risk of acquiring a blood clot. They really do not discriminate against young or old. Once you've had a look at his website, could you forward it and/or the message to a few people you know and ask them to do the same? We might all be able to save a few lives without even knowing it.

Thank you again for reading.

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52 Lists // Fifteen

And Pilates.

I've been paying attention to my "soul" a lot recently. Referring to it as though it's a thing that needs healing through paying it care and attention. I can't remember exactly when my little personal journey began but since I started feeding my soul things which nurture it it seems to be seeping into the cracks in my heart, making me feel a new level of energy and contentment. 

How much of the stuff we feed our brains and souls daily is a waste of time, poison, unhealthy, just plain rubbish? Are you aware of what you spend most of your time reading? Is it something that benefits you at all or is it just habit driving you to expend energy on things that don't mean anything to you? Things that don't motivate or educate or soothe you. 

A lot of this ties in with ideas of decluttering. I suppose I have been aiming to declutter the circle of things which I allow to influence me. I keep thinking of that Oscar Wilde quotation I included in a previous list - "What you read when you don't have to determines what you will be when you can't help it". 

Stop reading those destructive and degrading Daily Mail articles - try The Philosopher's Mail instead. If there are too many people feeding you negative thoughts on your social media pages, stop following them. Surround yourself with people who inspire you and encourage you to pursue your interests and passions, not those who make you feel bad about yourself.  Oh and stop listening to that voice that constantly tells you that you don't have enough time to do things for yourself. You absolutely do. Put it in your diary - Wednesday evenings "me time". Do it, do it, do it. Arrange a date with yourself to do something that you know you will feel better for doing, whether that's exercise, crafting, reading, having a bath, listening to music or turning off your phone. I promise your soul with thank you afterwards.

What do you reckon? What kick-starts your soul? 

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The dilemma of emotion

We condition ourselves to fear any emotion which does not give us joy. We try to reject sadness and hurt like they are poison to our existence. We can't bear to feel anything other than default neutrality or lucky happiness. When given a situation that churns up our insides we seek to fix that turmoil, extinguish the rage, and replace it as soon as possible. We are scared to feel how we truly feel in those dark moments and attempt suppression of natural human emotions. We don't want to feel sad, we don't want to feel guilt, we don't want to feel upset, we don't want to be hurt. Yet despite all this non-wanting, something inside us needs to engage in those feelings or else where do they come from? Something erupts from our hearts out of necessity, and has to flow through our veins to tantalise the body, make us feel numb or upset or angry. The same thing which brings joy or elation and our ability to latch onto those positive threads, applies to riding out the unhappy. But the fear? Why do we have a fear of it? We try to combat the very feelings which add to our being, which balance our soul and smooth our edges, give us the gift of perspective and adapt our attitude and resolve.

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Accidentally...

...this photo happened when I couldn't see a thing on my phone and was trying to sort out the brightness. And it turned out to capture the essence of those bizarrely beautiful moments that morning perfectly.

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What makes you miss somebody?

In your head, hearing their exact voice or idiosyncratic tone in which they'd deliver a line. Like they've giggled next to you, rolled their eyes candidly or lifted their cheeks to be kissed by the creases of their eyes. Or you've spotted a face with the crinkles in the bridge of their nose when they're pulling faces, or the gaze of another has reminded you of their pondering. Sang or spoken softly, raised their head to check you're well and cried and hugged you all at once. All in the comfort and tangled abyss of your head.

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2014 Blogger Challenge // Four

Topic 4: High-end vs high-street

Source unknown

Why are we so concerned with what other people think? Do we buy names and brands because we KNOW them to be good, or because we have heard someone else say they are good or cool or the hip thing these days in those circles, and wish to impress the people who said they were good or cool or the hip thing to know that we also think these things to be hip, cool and/or good? Why do we buy things we cannot afford, yet are conditioned to believe we need? High-end or high-street, I wish we felt more empowered as consumers to buy the things we WANT without compromising our morals, ethics and/or succumbing to societal pressures. Neither market caters to everybody yet we feel like we have to be pigeon-holed. More charity shops please. I may be talking in code here...but let me know if you deciphered any of it. My brain is clogged with legal jargon for the moment. Either way, I like the photo above.

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This post is part of the 2014 Blogger Challenge, hosted here. I aim to post in response to each topic released every fortnight. Hopefully, you'll enjoy my take on them.  If you're also taking part, please let me know as I would love to see your interpretations of these challenges. You can see my other posts here.

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Living inside your own head

From here

Sometimes I fail to grasp that my eyes look outwards and not in.

My head gets so riled up with emotions, thoughts, predicaments, analysis, that I can feel them all scurrying around, causing havoc, doing whatever the hell they want. My eyes are sucked in, swirled around like revolving doors and on every rotation scoop two armfuls of mind-sludge.

I see squiggles of worry, dots of hope, lines of exhaustion. I see the twisted butterflies, the vat of blank, the pit of discomfort and waves of unease.

It can be soothed by photographs, tamed by music. It can be comforted by tea and softened by breathing. I can rein it in and feed it peace. But if only I looked out rather than in.

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Strangers on a train

Original source unknown

Whenever we sit in a public place, within close quarters of a handful of strangers, on a train perhaps, a bus stop, what is it that connects us all? Sure, a common situation of being wherever we are at that precise moment, where we're going maybe, a physical equality between us all. All moving at the same pace (or not at all), doing the same thing or have the same opportunity to do so in transit. Same sheep or cattle in the same boat.

But I can't help but think we all feel we are secretly in possession of some knowledge which we think makes us better than somebody else. That the guy reading a book about God knows something we don't, that the girl in her late teens puts what she's done with her face today above the choices of everyone else, that I believe the music I'm listening to is a grade above anything else being played in the carriage today. We all look around and without even wanting to, we form a judgement about a person's attitude or lifestyle based on their wonky tie, scruffy shoes, the bags under their eyes, the volume of their music, their tone with their companions, whether they smiled back at you.

When we look, when we see these things which make up these strangers, as human and as damaged as you are yourself, what is it within us which feels compelled to draw comparisons? Comparisons which we know are futile, unfair on one or both of us, and a waste of precious energy.

Worst of all, we sit in silence. We ignore the common ground, the exchange of glances, the hour's gift we've been given and instead spend it in solitude with pointless thoughts about seemingly irrelevant people, strangers on a train.

We could embrace that time, that opportunity, and form real opinions on real substance, or as much as you can get from a short period of time, and discover the preponderancy of lessons we can learn from people we don't know, instead of choosing to mull over the lives we have created for these strangers on the train.

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Laura Bates

From here

I recently spoke of being unable to articulate how I feel about certain issues. One of these is the feminist movement and try as I might, I am still unable to put into words exactly how important I think it is. One person who I completely admire for her ability to do just this is Laura Bates. Laura founded the Everyday Sexism project which started off as a website inviting people to submit their stories of sexism that they have faced. The site was inundated with experiences and although I find this very sad, the silver lining is that Laura and others have now been able to use this platform to get the voices of women, in particular, heard and encourage discussion. Please take five minutes to read this interview with her on the Guardian website. It's an excellent and worthwhile use of your time, I promise. I wish more women had the confidence and ability to articulate these views, as perhaps then we have more of a chance of living in a society where such opinions are not seen as controversial in any way at all.

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What makes you you?

Found here

What makes you you? Is it the way you look to others, is it your heart, is it your intelligence? Is it your positive resolve, your limbs, your hormones? Could it be the colours and shapes your eyes see, the way you put one foot in front of the other, the compulsion to turn your head up towards the night sky? Is it your regal posture or the pace of your breath? The pulse in your wrist or your blushing cheeks? Your impulsiveness or apathy?

Is what makes you you your interest in others, your excitement for a road trip, the enjoyment you get from a book? Or could it be the feeling of sickness in the pit of your stomach when making a decision, the way your eyes leak when you're drained, your craving for security?

Do you listen to your tired eyes, the cuts on your heels, the way you bit your lip? The goosebumps on your skin, your fashion-conscious streak, the ache in your heart? Or how about the unease in your speech, your tingling hands or the bass line of your running rhythm. Ba dum, ba dum, ba dum. Do you pay your dues to the exhaustion of attempts, the giggles before bed or the safety of monotony? Are you more you when you're lively, more you when you're stroppy, or more you when you're quiet?

What makes you you when the team that is your body, mind and soul speak in different tongues?

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