365 Day Writing Challenge 46: Dirty

365 Day Writing Challenge

46. Dirty: Write a poem about getting covered in mud.

I loved

jumping in

and feeling the squelch under my wellies

I would find the muddiest, dirtiest part

and dig my feet in, over and over, and feel the earth move beneath me

every step was a joy

just to feel


365 Day Writing Challenge 43: The Sound of Silence

365 Day Writing Challenge

43. The Sound of Silence: Write about staying quiet when you feel like shouting.

This is about a number of different people. Not really a poem or anything, just an elongated shout really.

Stop trying to squash me

Stop trying to make me fit in your narrow definition of who I am

Stop trying to initiate me into your cult of fucked up views

Stop making me feel different!

Stop making me feel weird and out of place and awkward

I am a valid human being too.

With valid opinions and valid feelings!

Stop thinking it’s OK to talk to me like that

because you know that I’m paid not to say anything back.

Stop being disgusting.

Learn to eat quietly!

Learn to admit that you are wrong!

Learn some fucking manners!

I’m sick of all of you.

I want to find people who are intelligent and understanding and not full of crap.

They seem to be very hard to find.

{Featured image from ISORepublic)

365 Day Writing Challenge 31: The Professor

365 Day Writing Challenge

31. The Professor: Write about a teacher that has influenced you.

One of my lecturers, Mariadele, was a force to be reckoned with. She had black curly hair in a very short bob, and always wore those gypsy style boots and a red coat. She was small and her accent (I think Italian) was cute but if this led anyone to think that she was a soft touch then they were sadly mistaken.She was fierce – and I don’t mean in the Rupaul sense. On our exam prep lecture everyone who hadn’t turned up all year arrived in the hopes of being able to get some tips to blag through the exam, she coolly informed them that it wasn’t going to help – they should have turned up all year. Boom.

I’d love to be like that when I (eventually) become a lecturer. I wouldn’t say she was especially well liked. Some people did, some people didn’t. But everyone respected her. And everyone knew that she knew her stuff. I’d love to be able to be so rooted in my own self-respect and my own knowledge that I am good at what I do that I wouldn’t care if people liked me or not.

365 Day Writing Challenge 30: Shopping

365 Day Writing Challenge

30. Shopping: Write about your shopping wishlist and how you like to spend money.

I’ve just got a full time job with better pay so this is something that has definitely been on my mind lately! Normally I am the worst scrooge about money, but recently I’ve grown a lot more relaxed about it. Number one on my wishlist is moving in with my boyfriend. We’re also going to Athens next month for our anniversary and Glastonbury the month after that, so I need to save up for spending money!

But all that aside, what do I want to buy…

And then more bookshelves because I don’t have enough room for all the books I want.
See if this was my boyfriend writing this then this list would be a mile long. But I don’t really have a list of stuff I really want to buy. My wishlists all include things I want to do. I’d rather spend loads of money on an experience like a gig than on stuff. So if I had all the money in the world, what would I spend it on?

1. A house in the city to live with my boyfriend
2. Quit my job and write all day
3. Also buy a house somewhere warm in the country where I can swim and cycle
4. Speaking of cycling, following the tour de France around for the whole 3 weeks
5. I’d pay someone to do my hair and make up for me because I like to look nice but I can’t be arsed doing it perfectly
6. I’d get a personal shopper for the same reason
7. I’d go and see Vampire Weekend
8. I’d see Rupaul’s Drag Race on tour
9. I’d see Van Morrison
10. I’d go to India, China, Japan, Australia and do a classical tour of Greece
11. I’d go sky diving and bungee jumping.
12. I’d read all the books I possibly could.

This list is of course by no means exhaustive, just a snapshot of the kind of life I’d like to have 🙂

365 Day Writing Challenge 29: Good Vibes

365 Day Writing Challenge

29. Good Vibes: What makes you smile? What makes you happy?

In no particular order:

2. My boyfriend
3. My little sister
4. Hanging out with my boyfriend and my little sister just the three of us and I know that these are the people who I am truly myself with.
5. Babies
6. My new job
7. Lying in my bed which is all white and clean with my fairy lights on and feeling warm and safe
8. Spending hours in Waterstone’s deciding which books to buy
9. Reading
10. Finding my own style and wearing what I want
11. My hair
12. Cats
13. Weddings
14. Not having to work at H&M any more
15. Thinking about spending the rest of my life with Max
16. This video:

17. Music
18. Glastonbury
19. Spending time with my cousins, feeling accepted and part of something bigger than me
20. Sex

I wish I could add writing to this list, but at the moment writing is more like a therapy for me. I’m not sure I could say I enjoy it because I’m too critical. There is light showing through the cracks though.

365 Day Writing Challenge 27: Closed Doors

365 Day Writing Challenge

27. Closed Doors: What’s behind the door? Why is it closed?

Age 5

The door is huge. And I am small. It has a bright, warm outline from the light in the corridor outside. All I have to do is reach up, twist the door handle and I will be back in the real world. Where the adults are, and the light is. But I can’t. Because they’ll shout at me. They’ll shout at me because it’s my fault she’s dead.

I don’t know what happened. She was fine, she was talking, and then the next minute she just stopped, her sentence hacked in half, and she just stopped speaking, and at first I laughed because I thought she was joking, but she still didn’t wake up, and now I’m crying and crying and I can’t breathe and I’m begging her to wake up and I think I might be too loud and that they might hear me and I half want them to so they can take me out of this nightmare and I half don’t because it’s my fault. It has to be. I’m the only person in here with her so of course they’re going to blame me.


Age 23

I really want to know what you were thinking when you did that. When I was sitting next to you on the floor, crying and crying and bawling because I was a kid, and because I thought you were dead and I was shaking you over and over and you knew how terrified I was and you just lay there enjoying it. I really want to know what was going through your head at that time. The thing is I know you were a kid and I know you’re sorry now but how can someone be that sadistic and revel in someone else’s pain that much. Someone small who you knew was afraid of you and who you knew you had power over. And how could you then plan, and go over in your head, to get up, and say calmly, “Why are you crying?” and look at me slightly puzzled, and when I say, “You stopped in the middle of talking and you weren’t moving” say, “No I wasn’t. I don’t know what you’re talking about”. How can a child be that calculating? You made me doubt myself, you made me feel that maybe I had imagined it all, and you knew I would never tell anyone because you would deny it. Either I wouldn’t tell anyone because I felt stupid for believing you or I wouldn’t tell anyone because I didn’t trust my own memory enough, because you made me feel like I made it up. So either way you won.


Age 21

The more she reaches out to me the more it makes me want to pull back. It’s making me cringe because she’s drunk and she’s spouting cliches that she thinks make her sound damaged and dramatic but really just make her sound ridiculous. She shouldn’t be with anyone because how could anyone love her. She just hurts people. She just pushes people away. Her voice is slurring and she’s saying these things so that I will deny them so that she can argue and impress upon me just how fucked up she is. I retreat further and further back into the sofa and my words sound so false to me that I keep waiting for her to hear it herself, even as drunk as she is.

And then, somehow, she drags the conversation onto us. What a bad sister she was. How can I love her. She was so horrible to me. My life would have been better if she wasn’t in it. It still would be now. And of course I rebut the things she’s saying. She is a better person and sister now, it’s not a lie, and of course my life is better with her in it. But I know what she really wants me to say. And I can’t. I told myself I’d only say it if and when I meant it. And I don’t. I love who she is now. I’m glad she is in my life and that we have a relationship. But when I think of her as a child, and I see her with her dark eyes and her knowing, false smile, I can’t. I can forgive my adult sister for being a self-absorbed, sometimes cruel (she’s still got that nasty streak), melodramatic, embarrassing person. But I can’t forgive her child self. For anything. There’s a home video where she doesn’t realise she’s being filmed and she thinks a photo is being taken. She’s staring into the camera, and the quality is so bad that her eyes are black. She’s smiling and her smile looks way too calculating, way too knowing, for a child. And it’s very clear she’s doing it for the camera. It’s very clear that she’s used to performing. And that is the face of evil to me. And I can’t forgive her for anything, because to me she wasn’t a person, she was just this malevolent force that ruled my life. So I don’t say it. I won’t say it until I mean it.


Age 23

Just in case any of you were wondering, no, I haven’t forgiven her yet.


But I might be thawing slightly.

365 Day Writing Challenge 26: Fear

365 Day Writing Challenge

26. Fear: What scares you a little? What do you feel when scared? How do you react?

Oh, God. Asking someone with anxiety to talk about fear is a risky business. What scares me a little doesn’t really come into it. I don’t really tend to do little fears. Here is a list of things that are scaring me at the moment:

  1. New job: Am I doing it right? Do people like me? What’s going to happen when I start my masters in September? Will they be annoyed with me for not telling them? Do I bug the girl who’s training me too much? Why do I feel ugly and nerdy next to everyone else? I have my one to one tomorrow, that’s terrifying. Will they be OK with how much overtime I did this weekend? Why am I so bad with people?


  1. That I’m turning into my mum: Don’t even want to get into that one right now.


  1. General: I’m not outgoing enough. I suck all the enjoyment out of everything by worrying about it. I should have more friends. I’m not living up to my full potential. I’m going to feel anxious forever. I’m not getting the most out of life. Which leads onto…


  1. The big one. Death.


What’s really good is that when I’m in a calm mood like this I can think of rational challenges to most of these things. I don’t believe them all the time which is a big step forward. But when I am feeling anxious they are my reality. I react in different ways; this past week I have been feeling really sick. And sort of silently frantic. And that there’s constantly something in my mouth that makes me feel choked that I can’t get rid of.

But, as I say, I’m doing so much better. In fact, if you look at how I used to be I’ve come in leaps and bounds. This time last year I didn’t have a job. I didn’t leave the house. I had panic attacks all day. I can’t believe that was just a year ago but it’s true. And I’m also noticing that I seem to end a lot of these anxiety posts with “…but actually I’m doing really well”. Which is awesome. I already live my life so differently than how I used to (even pre-anxiety). I always feel like I’m “getting there” or “on my way” to something, but a lot of controlling anxiety is about acceptance, so maybe I just need to accept where I am now, and how good it is. 🙂

(Featured image from MentalFloss)




Anxiety Attacks


I think I need to see my therapist again. I just feel so unhappy all the time. Good things happen like getting to do my masters and leaving my shit job for a job that seems like it will be better but they don’t really make any difference long term. I just go back to feeling bad or my mind just jumps to the next thing to worry about. Like today I handed in my notice to work which is something I’ve fantasised about doing for MONTHS, and I didn’t feel relieved or happy, my mind just immediately jumped to oh god I’ve got to organise a leaving do and oh god when to do it because my manager is leaving at the same time and I don’t know when she’s doing hers. And instead of feeling excited about my new job I just feel worried because I haven’t told them I’m starting my masters in September and I feel like they’ve employed me under false pretences and I keep worrying about it. I’m terrified of being told off by people and I’m worrying about being told off by someone I don’t even work for yet months from now. AND I’m worried because I got new contact lenses and I tested them for 2 weeks and it was fine but now they’re not and I’ve had so many issues with them in the past I’m worried they’ll think I’m lying/attention – seeking…again worried I’ll be shouted at.




Hi guys!

Sorry I’ve missed the last two days of the writing challenge – things have been very busy! I’ve been accepted to do a Masters at Manchester University which is AMAZING, I’m so happy! I also have two job interviews lined up for this week so fingers crossed! I will have Day 17 ready for you tonight!

365 Day Writing Challenge 10: Friendship

365 Day Writing Challenge

10. Friendship: Write about being friends with someone.

It’s weird looking back on the poem I wrote for you. It’s weird to think about who I thought I was. I don’t like her. In fact I hate her. She tried so hard to be the person she thought you wanted. But then you tried too. We created little moulds for ourselves, defined ourselves through our friendship, a friendship which fell apart as soon as we weren’t there to remind each other who we were supposed to be.

I was going to post the poem, but I just can’t. It’s too cringey, like seeing an old photo of yourself trying to be fashionable.

I don’t think I really do hate the version of myself that was friends with you. And the friendship wasn’t completely false. It was based on something true at the start, we just fucked it up. We were both so young. And I think that’s how I felt at the time too – when I was at uni it was genuinely the youngest I have ever felt. I always felt so much older than everyone around me. So, yes. You were good for the time. Good for being young. It actually says that in the poem. I don’t regret the friendship starting, but I don’t regret it ending either. I regret nothing. If you’re reading, I hope you remember this.

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