Life Experience, Uncategorized

Getting Back Up Again

I’ve been staring at this screen for a while. The last few weeks, I’ve loaded up WordPress with the intention of writing blog posts, but I always press the red cross. It’s not been worth it, writing. The truth of it is that for the last few months I have experienced the most horrific heartbreak I never thought possible for one human to feel. It meant that anything I wanted to write about was either depressingly miserable, or bitterly nasty. And what good would that do? That wouldn’t help anybody, especially myself and someone involved would likely call me out on it. I know that I’m not entitled to an opinion in this… oops.

emmastone

Sorry… ANYWAYS. I have taken now myself out of the situation. It was a very long time between the initial ‘incident’ and actually leaving the awful environment. It was actually only two months but it definitely felt like at least two years. If I had just one piece of advice for if  you are ever forced to live with your ex, it’s this: Don’t.

Just don’t do it. Get yourself out of that situation a.s.a.p. because it is bad for your mental and physical well being. (I have found actually that not many people are as unlucky as me to have to go through with this but it does happen.) I’ve felt like I’ve been going insane for the sad-girl-foot-in-water-black-and-whitelast few weeks, I’ve lost a lot of weight, had no appetite and have been sick and cried a lot. It has been horrendous. And the joke is, it could have been a lot, lot worse. But seeing your ex take up with you someone you live with really has to take the biscuit for things to break your heart. Painful doesn’t really cover it. Hurt doesn’t justify what I felt. Devastated does not even begin to describe the cavernous rip that tore through me…

But that’s not what this blog is about. This post is about the future and how things are starting to look up. I’ve started a Masters degree course at university, I’ve moved back in with my parents, I’m looking at starting driving lessons, I’m going to start swimming again, I’m making new friends, I’m meeting new people.

This blog is about however painful it is, and whatever heartbreak you’re going through whether that’s romantically or because of grief, work, trauma, anything, you will be okay. You are stronger than you think you are. Something I have come to realise is that you never know your true strength until that is all you have left. You might be collapsed on the floor, surrounded by tissues, your chest a gaping and bleeding raw wound. Your hair may be unwashed and you may not have eaten for 24 hours and you may be wearing the same pyjamas as you wore all day yesterday, but trust me when I say that things do get better. It will likely be one tiny step at a time, and the steps may be spread across weeks, but you will absolutely see an improvement in time. Nothing can hold you down so much that you can’t get back up again. Nothing.

bella-swan-twilight-series-26904138-500-208

As for me, I’m nowhere near healed yet, and I don’t think I’ll be back to my old self for a long time, but now that I am away from that awful situation, the real work can begin. If you are suffering, all I can say is keep the faith, believe in yourself and go on Pinterest looking for inspirational quotes because you will realise than that you are not alone. Knowing that there are other people going through similar things is a weird kind of comfort when you’re hurting.

tumblr_no01k1zg8s1upnym0o1_500

You just have to believe in yourself.

Life Experience, Music

Golden – Ruth B

 

I can’t get enough of these lyrics right now, from the song ‘Golden’ by Ruth B. YouTube link at the bottom  ❤

6976611-beach-sunset-girl-silhouette


The fire used to burn, all the words used to hurt

But you’re not like us, you are different
I couldn’t see that that was a compliment
Cause the last thing I want now is to be you
And the flames don’t feel as hot as they used to

Burn, burn, burn
They used to yell
You thought I was coal
My friend, I’m gold
Can’t you tell?

Burn, burn, burn
They used to yell
You thought I was coal
My friend, I’m gold
Can’t you tell?

Cause I’m not weak, I’m not broken I am bold
And the fire you put me through turned me into gold
I’m not done, I’m no loser
Watch me take on my bright future
Tonight I’m no bronze, I’m no silver
You’ll be thinking, damn I knew her
But you didn’t
Don’t get it twisted

Out of the ashes you buried me in
I, I am golden
I, I am golden

You tried so hard to break me down
Like a fire-breathing dragon, but I guess I took your crown
You pushed for me to change for you
But I’m so glad that I stayed true to who I am

Burn, burn, burn
They used to yell
You thought I was coal
My friend, I’m gold
Can’t you tell?

Burn, burn, burn
They used to yell
You thought I was coal
My friend, I’m gold
Can’t you tell?

Cause I’m not weak, I’m not broken I am bold
And the fire you put me through turned me into gold
I’m not done, I’m no loser
Watch me take on my bright future
Tonight I’m no bronze I’m no silver
You’ll be thinking, damn I knew her
But you didn’t
Don’t get it twisted

Out of the ashes you buried me in
I, I am golden
I, I am golden

The fire that you tried to burn me with, it made me who I am
All the things that you said I couldn’t do
Guess what, Yes I can

The fire that you tried to burn me with, it made me who I am
All the things that you said I couldn’t do
Guess what, Yes I can

Cause I’m not weak, I’m not broken I am bold
And the fire you put me through turned me into gold
I’m not done, I’m no loser
Watch me take on my bright future
Tonight I’m no bronze I’m no silver
You’ll be thinking damn I knew her
But you didn’t
Don’t get it twisted

Out of the ashes you buried me in
I, I am golden
I, I am golden, golden, gold
I, I am golden, golden, golden

Life Experience, Writing

Only Me: Part 4

I was really shocked when you left. Devastated, in fact. I cried for hours. I was sick and unwell.

My heart bled and my chest had caved in. I have a hole in my heart, where you used to be. But I have been patching the edges of the hole back together, and now there is no room for you anymore.

My heart is for me and the people around me; my family and my friends have my heart. Your piece is grey and dry and crumbles beneath your touch.

You are not really anything to me now, other than a back hole that I have almost finished fixing.

 

large

Life Experience

Dyeing a Virgin

Last night, I dyed my hair for the first time ever. I was born a ginger, suffered a little through high school with taunts of ‘ginner’ and ‘carrot top’, but as I’ve grown it’s naturally faded into a more strawberry blonde than ginger.

1909873_10209059326263110_6295926178359648137_n
So blonde..

I’ve grown up hearing the same (truthful) spiel time and time again, “Never dye your hair,
people pay good money for that colour!” Other natural redheads can relate, I’m sure. But over the last few months, the speed at which is has faded feels like it has doubled. As we approach summer every year, my hair gets lighter, but this year has been different. I have been living for a while now with a very pale blonde – and in some lights a straw-like yellow.

I’d been thinking about dyeing it for a few weeks and decided first I  needed to do my research. I read reviews and ratings online about various colours and brands, and decided on Nice n Easy Golden Auburn Blonde. 7360534

Last night I took the plunge. Standing in the tiny communal bathroom, staring at my freckled face in the tiny toothpaste-splashed mirror, I couldn’t do it. I had the full get up; old t-shirt, old towel, plastic gloves and applicator bottle, but I could not convince myself to squeeze. “You can do it,” I whispered. Still, the blonde girl in the mirror refused to move. What was her problem? The disgusting fluorescent light in the bathroom made her hair look like straw coloured in with a yellow highlighter; it only made sense to cover it and make it copper.

It took me a good few minutes before I took a deep breath and squeezed the bottle onto my roots. It felt cold, but it felt like progress. I already felt like a new woman. Change  = confidence = progress. (I’ve had a rough couple of days)

The rest is a quaint history. When I had finished drying my hair after the whole ordeal, I was a little stunned but there was a broad smile on my face. I had done it. My irrational fear of revealing a tangerine coloured head disappeared when I saw the lovely subtle copper.

IMG_1379

It’s possibly the biggest confidence boost that I’ve had in a while, and it’s much needed. It’s a wonder what new hair can do for a girl. One thing I’ve learnt over these last few days is that you need to put yourself first. You need to please yourself and you need to take risks. My job now is to look after number one, and I can’t wait to see what else I give myself.

IMG_1375

Marketing, Work

Newbie’s Marketing Record

Have a sneaky peek at my other blog Newbie’s Marketing Record (I’m desperate to change the name but I can’t think of anything as appropriate) – an account of what I’m discovering and learning in the world of marketing and social media.

phoneIt’s a collaboration of various sources of good marketing examples and advice, from things like infographs to full blown articles (and it’s starting to look pretty and flashy).

There isn’t much of my own opinion on there because I’m still learning and don’t know much, so I can’t dish out my own advice yet I’m afraid.

The latest post is about whether or not to add subtitles, or closed captions, to a video that will eventually go on Facebook (spoiler: the answer is YES).

I will be eternally grateful :: https://newbiesmarketingrecord.wordpress.com/

Misc., Writing

What it’s like having many things to write…

It is wearing a ball gown while wading through the thickest waist-high mud for miles and miles

Needing to light a hundred feet tall candle with one little match and no ladder

A thousand bees inside a small, metal box with one coin-sized hole

Seeing the finish line before the starting gun goes off

Trying a particular lipstick and it changing into another shade by midday

Sticky notes that keep falling off the wall and disappearing between the floorboards

Your dad’s heavy denim jacket that you will never grow into

Turning the volume up as high as it will go and still straining to hear the music

Eating until you are full and still feeling like you are starving

Waiting for the knock on the door when you’re sitting in a meadow

It is reaching the other side of the bridge before you have set one foot on it to cross.

I always want to write, every minute of every day, and I always have ideas in my head. Ideas that might be big, and they might last for no longer than two seconds. They’re all still there, and they’re all very loud and blinding.

When they are small, it’s hard to justify the effort to put them onto paper.

And when they are big stories that are bouncing around in my head, that are so complicated, I would need to sit in silence for a week to even grasp them with both hands.

Sometimes there is no motivation to write anything, fictional or otherwise. Sometimes this site goes neglected and unloved for weeks at a time. And sometimes I can’t stop. Sometimes it’s unhealthy when I stay awake until the small hours, scribbling by lamplight.

All to often, the desire to write plagues me but my body refuses. Together, we make the decision not to pick up the pen and notebook. We can’t even use an app on the tablet. But the stories are there. The characters are screaming at me inside my head to let them out, but I can’t always release them.

I have never finished a project. Starting to write so young meant that my language was soft and poor. Looking at it now makes me cringe and I could never submit that anywhere, so it is added to the pile. I’m sure that pile is taller than me by now.

There is a colourful rush that comes with writing and a relief, as though eliminating a headache and making room in my head. I’ll never stop, no matter who comes along and degrades my work, because I write for me and no one else.

 

 

 

 

Food and Drink

‘Diet’ Update

I’ll be honest.

I haven’t stuck to the ‘diet’ I gave myself. I ate some pizza last night and the night before that? Southern fried chicken.

Part of me cares, part of me doesn’t. I hear myself say ‘this isn’t good for you, spit it out!’, but I never do.

I always knew I could never go cold turkey at the start, because I’m stubborn and I would get mad (which I already have been doing – no sugar has made me cranky).

I am trying, though. I’ve swapped sandwiches for salad at lunch time and have yoghurts for breakfast rather than nothing. I’m making a push for cooking fresh where possible,  rather than being lazy and buying ready meals. I also drink green tea instead of Yorkshire tea and have swapped fizzy pop for squash with no added sugar. Go me.

The changes are small, and probably won’t make that big of a difference seeing as my job involves sitting at a desk  a l l  d a y.

Movement is key, obviously, but while I’m not actually tracking my weight because there is a spider attached to the bathroom scales right now, there’s no way of telling if I’m actually doing something right. I feel better in myself at least, if that counts (which it does, I am told).