A Love Letter

Dear Me,

So, we’ve known each other an awfully long time. Our entire life’s to be exact and it hasn’t always been plain sailing. I am writing to you today because I am proud of you though you don’t always feel that way. You need to remember that I love you.

I love the way you look, with your messy hair and dimpled cheeks. You may corrode at your self esteem by picking flaws but you’ve changed the things you’ve hated before and I know you have the will to do so again.

I love the way you laugh. Some days you’re a double of Jimmy Carr, others it’s so outrageous that you can’t stop. It’s infectious and makes others smile.

I love the way you take time for others. Your main priority is how others feel and what you can do as an individual to help, even at a loss to yourself.

I love the way you dance, dress as a unicorn and make a total fool out of yourself in public. You know everyone else is so absorbed in their own drama to care, the ones that do laugh or think of you as an idiot. But hey! You’re you!

I love the passion you have for your interests. Drama and politics, writing and performing. You come alive when you indulge yourself and seem to melt into happiness.

I love how you surround yourself with only the best people. You take time to ease out of toxic situations and people. You understand that live is to be enjoyed.

I love how you’ve grown. You’re growing out of your depression, you’ve grown out of your horrid habits, you grow and develop into a better person daily.

I love how you love. To the soul. Love is your life power and you wish to spread it to those that need it. You love with passion and grace and those that have your love are lucky.

I love your fight. Through everything especially over the past year you kept fighting even when there was no point.

I love how you question. I love how safe you make a situation yet not afraid to rock the boat. Even with stupid and completely inappropriate questions.

I love your need to read. You pick up a book daily and truest love immersing yourself in someone’s fantasy.

I love your foul mouth. The way you swear all the time and don’t give two fucks. Wanker.

I love that your confused. That your scared. That your lovely. I love everything about you. You make me smile.

I love you,



Curious: A Question From D

Today I have been struggling to write, my creative block was giving me a headache. I don’t know whether it’s my general depression or my quitting smoking that has me in such a funk but I asked D, one of my closest people for a prompt.

D, though a writer himself, never makes life easy for other writers but he does make it wacky, wild and oh so wonderful. So here we go…

What if ninjas invaded the USA and stole their formula for making idiotic presidential candidates?

Are you ready for some extreme bullshit. Nope. Too late!

Let’s get back to basics on this one… Ninjas… let’s not play ninja gaiden in our minds I want to go back to the original ninjas. During the 1500’s in Japan, ninjas were not black pj wearing killing machines unfortunately they were something closer to what we imagine I intelligence officers of MI6 or the CIA. 

They would dress to blend rather to hide, killing wasn’t their main objective but information gathering was. I’m talking ninja farmers…

Now let’s gnaw on the idea of American presidential candidates for a moment. Idiotic? Perhaps. This may also be the circling of history that tends to happen. Many have suggested that president elect Trump is the next Hitler and though history shows many similarities within a world insight (everything is going to motherfucking shit) I do not see the similarities. This being said Trump is a god damn idiot and I still stand with Mrs Clinton for equality and justice of this world. 

Can I just do a quick digress? How many of you would chose to be Trumps life partner? Think of dating that man, despite money do you think that would feel good? That is what America had basically done. They dating (my) worst nightmare… an accused child molester with a terribly blown up ego. Damn Gina.

Anyway, if Ninjas were to invade the US and discover the formula for terrible choices they would find this… 

  1. An individual with bollocks for brains 
  2. Seemingly dominant yet easily influenced
  3. Some form of prominent history leading to “experience”
  4. A shit load of money
  5. A fucking majestic media team

With this in mind I would hope that ninjas would turn into some kind of ‘accidential’ killing machines and wipe out anyone that could duck up this world any further. Please bare in mind I am a complete pacifist…I understand I do not sound like it.

Any more questions I should answer? Just comment…

I’m sorry if I offended you. America I love you, you crazy fools. I stand with her. 

Sorry D. 

Positive Changes… Hopefully?

Life sucks… well sometimes

For the past 6 years I have lived with an abusive “partner”. It has been tough, however I remind myself every single day that though I was in such a situation, one that I did not better for myself I have grown, he gave me my son, he did help but I am free.

Recently I have been plagued with contradictory feelings in regards to my previous relationship. I did expect that though- I don’t believe he is a truly bad person. I feel a huge amount of guilt in regards to the break up especially for my son however I can only do what I feel is right.

It has been over for a long period of time, before my pregnancy in fact but as I am clearly (not by conscious choice I must add) I have the Disney syndrome. I wanted the happy ever after for my child. A safe home with two parents and no rocking of the boat.

You know what? Fuck that shit! 

I had a turbulent childhood to say at the least. I am not saying G will have a turbulent life, nor would I create such, I’m a too safe and guarded person for that but he doesn’t need the norm. 

Change starts at home.

F left not too long ago but thing are looking up, my home is happier despite many issues. I realised that the boys needed me to be two people and that doesn’t really faze me. I can do this…

I understand whole heartedly that I need to grow and develop further as a single parent, let alone as a human. I’m not sure if during the past 6 months I’ve changed too much, I would hope that I have.

I’m making small changes that should add into a monumental change in me. I want to be fitter, stronger, stable and most of all satisfied in my life and all my decisions. 

I am writing this out. I am being positive and I am leaving the past where it should be. I will allow it to be part of me but I will not let it rule me. 

Let’s Talk: Post Natal Depression

Psst… Here is a commonly known secret… you’re not alone.

Did you know that 1 in 10 women are affected by PND every year? I did, I was well aware of the facts, I was well aware that I was more at risk due to my past mental health. I still ignored that.

One thing I didn’t know was that, though less common, men can have PND. This is something that happened to F, my baby daddy. 

Feeling so low when you are meant to be a glowing model of evolution, you grew an entire human inside you, you then let them rip you apart, leaving you with more stitches than you care to remember, is a feeling that alienates us. The greeting card image of early motherhood is false. Do not believe the hype my friends. 

The following days after you give birth are a whirlwind, you feel so much pride, awe, love but it is strangely entwined with fear, pain and well sleep deprivation. You’re told by medical professionals that your hormones levels will level out, if they don’t talk to a professional.

That is a lot easy than said.

My journey with PND is one that is not yet over, a year on I am still struggling. The day I found help was when G was 2 months old. I cried so hard that day. I felt like a failure, I really wanted to die. I loved my son, with everything in my being but I felt as if I wasn’t good enough.

My past has a lot to do with that and even though I tried therapy during my pregnancy and though I did not fear being a mother, I had such a gut wrenching dread that he wouldn’t love me, that I was going to be his greatest downfall in life. I couldn’t provide the opportunities that he deserved.

Little over a year ago I was stood in the health clinic, my colicky, lactose intolerant and acidic baby had been crying what felt like the moment he was brought home. I did not expose the abuse I lived with at the time, or my issues surrounding dealing with a traumatised kid brother. I just cried. The health visitor let me cry. That was the greatest thing. She took G to another room to be watched, let me cry my heart out and made a call to my GP so that I would be seen within the hour.

I left, still crying, walked across the church courtyard to the GP and sat crying. I cried and cried pushing the pram up and down the waiting room. No one asked if I was okay, everyone avoided me like I was a walking case of instant death. 

My name was called and I walked into a small brightly lit office. I remember seeing my face in the mirror above the sink. I was red, puffy and soaked with tears. The junior doctor turned in her chair, little did I know it was her first day in the surgery. I broke down into a full on bawling session. All this young woman could do was pass my tissues and find someone to help.

Who knew that you could cry for hours straight like that? 

I was diagnosed and given anti depressants. 6 weeks later I was back to myself. However due to the abuse I suffered with F, the constant tease that I wasn’t a good mother naturally and that I needed pills made me quit them. I worked tirelessly on myself, I made promises and set happiness goals. Tiny milestones such as getting through a day without crying worked for me. Soon after, yet a shadow of my former self, I did feel like a “good” mom.

Fast forwarding a year, I am back on antidepressants. 3 weeks yesterday- I don’t feel better yet. I didn’t know I could have PND again, I didn’t know that it is quite common to have such a diagnosis a year after giving birth.

All I know is, my life has changed an incredible amount in the past 5 months or so. I am working on it, on me, I’m not alone no matter how that feeling may engulf me sometimes. I am good enough. I am fantastic. Wonderful. A god damn delight! 

Advice From An Old Friend

And here comes the ramble…

I will apologise for the quite rambling and raw writing. I do write professionally however when I write on a personal level, I tend to fuck up… bare with me folks…

An old friend reappeared in my life around 6 months ago, I have known D for about 7 years however we didn’t commit to a friendship after our relationship ended. Now to back up a little… we first encountered one another in university. He was/is fit as fuck… we dated for a little while, we broke up in the snow… I was heartbroken. 

Our friendship has been one based predominantly online, through Facebook, every now and then we would swap numbers, attempt to meet up, life would get in the way. He was in and out of relationships, I was in a steady one for 6 years. 

Let’s be honest here and now. Every person on this planet fantasises someone… for me it was D. It still is. I am still the naive 18 year old that feels lucky he speaks to me. That’s something I am so unsure I wish to change, some days I feel I need to stop, it’s unhealthy for me mentally however I enjoy it. It’s wrong but don’t judge me, everyone had that one person that gets in the way of rationality.

D and I spoke online, swapped numbers, text all the time. Then we decided to see one another face to face. He came to see me in my town, it was like every dream come true. We spoke about everything over the following months, recently though things have changed. He found someone he is genuinely head over heels for. 

This in one way breaks my heart… I’m a dreamer, it’s a flaw I would not change. On the other hand, I am pleased. I don’t feel like I am good enough for that man. I am glad he has found someone he is happy with. Excuse me whilst I curse her name and then bork at my own sappy writings.

This mix of fantasy surrounding D and reality of our friendship makes his words take a meaning close to my heart, well my soul, if one can speak so um, neo-romantically.

D has taught me so much about life since he reappeared in the shitstorm of my life.

  • Stop apologising 
  • Humans can be shits
  • Poop like a unicorn
  • Don’t be afraid to be yourself
  • Don’t be afraid to better yourself
  • Get angry

As you can tell from just some of his advice there… I am a passive individual. I lack the ability to be mean, well the majority of the time. I am also someone who became a product of my past relationship. I stopped being me. The me that was as open and welcoming and crazed as I used to be. I will expand on this in another post sometime…

His most important piece of advice was to…


That is something I do not do. I am a single mother raising my brother and my child. I have no family and a very small friend group. I regularly commit myself to 20 hour days with work, meetings for my brother and well dreaming. 

D taught me to take a step back. Sleep it off. Don’t take everything on all at once. The world will still be there (well, there’s Trump to worry about now) and relax. D sleeps a lot, that is why he is a better person than me. 

Advice from an old friend is priceless. Never stop pressing snooze.