Fibromyalgia || My Story
5/21/2016
Fibromyalgia is found under the category of "invisible illnesses". It's something that sounds made-up when you list the symptoms, as it seems unlikely that so many things can affect one human being without driving them insane. I was officially diagnosed at 16, but had been to countless appointments about my odd variety of complaints since I was 12. Three years I have "officially" had this illness and the doctors have offered therapy, physiotherapy, hydrotherapy, pain clinics, short term medications.. but they can't offer a long term solution. They can instead only offer temporary band aids to cover the parts that are screaming at that particular moment in time. Barring the pain clinic - which I'll be starting at the beginning of next month, I have done them all. So far, nothing has helped or offered relief.
Like most illnesses, each individual's symptoms differ. Mine include widespread pain after what my body classes as strenuous activity (grocery shopping, walking the dog, cleaning my bedroom, sleeping too long), inflammation of the joints, joint stiffness, skin sensitivity, insomnia, migraines, fatigue, nausea, loss of eye-sight, muscle spasms, bruising, inability to concentrate, and low blood pressure. Sounds made up, right? You can't see it show up on any medical chart, nor can you get a 100% accurate diagnosis from blood work. It's instead like a game of Tetris. All the symptoms acting as the colourful blocks until ding, ding, ding you've reached the top and are officially a Fibro victim. Much like the game, reaching the top means you lost. That's a terrible analogy and I'm pretty sure there aren't any dings in Tetris, but I hope you see what I meant.
Fibromyalgia is supposedly triggered by some life changing tragic event - whether on your body or in your life. I wouldn't say I have had either so I cannot relate to that, but know of many who have connected an event to their diagnosis. I simply began to experience abnormal pains at a young age.
I haven't found a magical cure yet, nor have I found anything that really soothes the pain. My mother continues to push a hot water bottle at me when my back is aching, but it doesn't help. Just makes me sweaty. It's rather bitter-sweet - family and friends. I spent the first half of today, or rather, yesterday, running a temperature in my bed with a banging headache, sick at the back of my throat, and pain shooting up and down my spine. I took some painkillers and lay there for 2 hours until eventually drifting back off. My mother was in the next room and my boyfriend was a phone call away, but I didn't see the point in telling anyone. They can't do anything and in honesty, I'm sick of telling people what hurts when I'm unable to show them evidence of it. I sometimes wish there was a thick gash on my arm with blood pooling around my bed, as I would then feel better in going "Hey, hi, yeah. I'm in pain here. Mind keeping me company until it stops?" It isn't even a matter of feeling as though I'm burdening them, or feeling like they don't care. As neither of those are true. It's simply a matter of feeling as though it would be pointless. A waste of breath when I can lay there and wait for it to ease all by myself.
As you may of seen from my previous (and future, it's coming, I promise) Scotland post, I went on a little vacation with my partner. And my body didn't react well to it at all. I spent one night in Edinburgh literally shaking for a solid 3 hours - making me wish I was spineless in the process, and unable to stand without falling right back down. It was the first time this illness has terrified me. When I could barely muster the strength to grip the edge of the bed to pull myself up, and to then experience the sensation of my knees and ankles giving out from under me.. It was indescribable. I'm a 19 year old girl and my joints felt as though they were those of a 90 year old. My partner had to help me to the bathroom (which he thankfully doesn't remember. Let's all take a moment of gratitude for sleepy brains.), and I spilt water down my front as I couldn't hold the glass steady enough to bring it to my lips. The following day I felt as though I was hit by a bus. We took it easy and did a small walk down the town, which was torture. Every breath hurt like hell, my sides and back felt as though they were covered in dark ugly bruises. The pain was close to unbearable. I fell asleep at 07:30pm. I'm a young adult, I was in a city I had never been to, and I was fast asleep by 8pm because my body didn't have the strength to hold it together for a couple more hours. I was ashamed of my health, and still am.
There is no direction for this post, nor is there a reason for my writing it. It's 06:19am and I'm at a loss. I've spent half the night worrying over the future - my future. My back is throbbing like it has been for the past few days, and my leg continues to give me a good ol' sharp pain when I straighten it, all because I was stupid and did some yoga as a Instagram post made me feel like crap for not working out. (Social Media is a wonderful thing, but acts as the devil for anyone who is either lonely or stuck in the house.)
I'm, ironically, a carer for my mum. I don't study as I haven't the funds for online education, and my health wouldn't handle going to an actual college. I can't get a part-time job due to Fibro. I'm uncertain as to whether I can will myself to have children, knowing that they may inherit this and/or the Porphyria gene - the kidney disease that is the reason behind my being a carer. As mentioned above, I volunteer when I can but that is becoming increasingly less due to the pain. I write for fun, but struggle as my wrists begin to ache and creak. It feels like every good thing has a flip side - that side constantly being pain.
I take Circadin to help me sleep, Dihydrocodeine on the bad days, Cyclizine for the nausea, Ibroprofen in hopes that they might miraculously help, and something for the inflammation (which also doubles as a stronger painkiller when mixed with Ibroprofen), but I can't find the box and haven't the faintest chance of knowing what they're called. I've tried the bath salts, oils, gels, creams, but alas, I sit here today with no recommendations to you on what could help anyone who is going through this. I'd like to say I've come to terms with that, but I haven't, I still have those days where it gets a little too much. I'm a part of this lovely little community on Facebook that was made for people with these types of illnesses and although I act more as a bystander and watch/read what others have to say without contributing much - I find it interesting how most are upset by their stories (though I entirely understand why). I'm more fearful. Of what I'll be feeling in another 5 years time, - how I'll cope. I can't concentrate on the now as I fear I'll implode at the situation I'm in.
People look at me with disgust when they see my Grandma carrying two shopping bags and my hands are empty. People expect me to able to lift boxes or move things as I'm "a strong young woman". People don't understand and I can't expect them to, as I barely understand myself - both theoretically and literally speaking. It's consuming but sometimes too easy to forget. It's my life but isn't what should dominate it. I struggle to find a balance, and I imagine many who walk in similar shoes will understand that. You can't allow an illness to control you, but it's difficult to follow that rule when every move you make in life will trigger said illness. Mind boggling.
I'm just a girl and the world I have at my feet is seeming smaller by the day. I have it better than most, I don't doubt that and I'm thankful for the life I have been given, even during the bad days. My life will be okay, no matter where it leads. I'll aim for great but am willing to settle for okay. The bad days pass, whether after 24 hours or a longer period of time. We all find our good days again. Much like a storm, you just have to wait somewhere safe until it passes. Thankfully I'm also the type of person who finds rain beautiful.
- Anne x
Loch Ness: Glamping, Exhibition, Food.
5/20/2016
I was going to write a monster post about my week long vacation in Scotland, but figured small snippets from each place would be more efficient for you and for my sanity. So here we have our first stop, Loch Ness! The drive up there from North Wales was fun for me, but likely brutal for my better half who kindly drove. So many things went wrong along the way, but sometimes you just have to look past them and force your company to listen to many, many, many Glee songs and watch as he shakes his head in shame (he loved it really). The views were breathtaking and the long stretch of 108 miles on a single road was.. fun. Especially for those 10 miles that were spent with a limited amount of gas, a desperation to pee and no sign of a station or anything as we were literally in the middle of nowhere. Fuel up and pee at every possible opportunity, kids.
In the Armadilla itself, you have your double bed, TV, a mini wet room meaning you could shower in privacy (quite a few Glamping sites offer community showers only), a kettle, toaster, fridge, under bed storage, draws, small closet and outside bins. Even wifi. Everything you could really need. You also have the option of a cooked breakfast delivered right to your door in the morning for an additional £7.50 per person. We chose to do that for our first morning only. It wasn't the best breakfast we've ever had for the price, but you're paying for their incredible hospitality and convenience of having hot food brought to your doorstep. So I think it's fair. A photo of my partner's breakfast is below, as I blanked on taking one of my veggie option. Speaking of, I think it's great that they offer both a vegetarian AND vegan cooked breakfast. Many places wouldn't go to the trouble.
Also at Loch Ness Glamping, you have your own private BBQ/fire pit and outdoor seating area. We wanted to use ours to make smores but wound up going out for dinner instead, which I'll get onto in a moment. Lastly at the site, there are two indoor BBQ houses (pictured below), which you share with the other campers. Inside there is the BBQ itself, a microwave, and seating. A great idea if you're travelling and wish to meet new people. It may be worth mentioning that you buy the coal separately from reception.
All in all, I would highly recommend Loch Ness Glamping. The only slight downfall of the place is the bathroom fan, as odd as that may sound. Placed right next to the main light, it is really easy to accidentally knock both at the same. Which would be fine, except one quick flick of that switch and you will be stuck with the whirling sound of the fan for a good 30 minutes. It was maddening, especially at bed time. But not a deal breaker and likely uncontrollable.
The Loch Ness Inn: On our second day but first proper night in Scotland, we went out for dinner to The Loch Ness Inn. The restaurant offers a free pick-up and drop-off service for anyone staying within 5 miles of the place, which was what we chose to do. Might I just add how much of a nice touch that is, especially if only one person of your party can drive. The food was great, the atmosphere even better, and the service was excellent. All staff were really friendly and happy to engage in conversation with you. They offer a range of Ale options from the local Loch Ness brewery that sits a short walk away from the restaurant itself, which my partner would recommend to you. He had the beef and I had pasta - the range of veggie options isn't spectacular, I think there were two on the menu and one on the specials board, but if you know that going in, it's no biggie.
It was a lovely place for a spontaneous date, and I would definitely recommend it if you're staying in the area. I failed miserably at taking photos of my food during this trip, but my partner did so I'll just keep putting his at the end of these restaurant "reviews".
The Dores Inn: The Dores Inn was a miracle in our eyes. Located in a beautiful spot right near the water (pictured far, far below), it was the perfect spot to round up the Loch Ness part of our trip. The restaurant itself has a warm interior, with comfortable seating. The food was really good. On the menu there were your classic pub dishes as well as options you wouldn't find in most places, a nice mix for the traditional and foodies. Near the bar they offered a range of homemade cake slices, which I had to steer my partner away from. It was.. comfortable. I think that sums it up. You didn't feel rushed or out of place, the scenery was beautiful and I imagine it could be a rather romantic option in the evening.
My partner had the haggis stuffed chicken, which he has now decided was his favourite meal during the trip. I was plain and ordered a Quorn burger, but it was very good and a nice change of pace than a regular vegetable burger, which is what most places offer. Once again, I forgot to take a photo but my cameraman took a snapshot of his.
Things We Did
I wasn't feeling too well after the car journey (thanks Fibro), and although my ever understanding partner didn't mind staying in and simply watching something together, we had to do some touristy things. I mean, we were in Scotland! So be prepared for tourist cheesiness in this section of these blog posts.
Loch Ness Exhibition: The Exhibition is situated just down the road from the Glamping site, so it seemed like a smart choice for our first day. It was enjoyable but in the words of my guy: it's a tourist trap. And bloody expensive for what it as. I think you have to do some cliché touristy things when in certain areas as it all adds to the experience, but would I go again or recommend it to someone/you? Maybe not. It's mostly a lot of sitting and watching a projector as they tell us how Nessie isn't real. You may be better off spending your money elsewhere.
Loch Ness: After checking out of Loch Ness Glamping, we went on the maddening search for the actual water of Loch Ness. It really ought to of been simple, but we were either blind or the roads are lacking in clear directions. Either way, we were driving in circles for an embarrassing amount of time. Every person we had asked prior to the search recommended going to Urquhart Castle to take in the views and for the historical aspect, which was the initial plan. But I still wasn't feeling well, thus making the justification of spending close to £20 to look at something that we ought to be able to do for free just plain silly. Food was our saviour. Unknown to us, The Dores Inn sits right near the water and I would like to thank our driver the previous night for suggesting we eat there.
So after lunch, we wandered out and took in the scenery. I'll let the photos do the talking for this one, as no words can do it justice.
Please excuse my deformed looking hand in the last photo. And that damn strand of hair. I felt and looked like a mess that day. But the views were beautiful and it was the perfect end to our 2 day trip. From there we got in the car and drove down to Edinburgh, which I'll get onto in the next Scotland post.
We didn't do a whole bunch, but we accomplished what we wanted and will hopefully one day return for a more backpacking type trip. Health can just be a bitch. You have to enjoy what little moments you can manage. I'll be eternally grateful for how much patience that man pictured above had with me for the duration of the week. It was his vacation and he never once made me feel bad for unintentionally ruining some of our plans. I'm a very lucky gal, that's for sure. I'd also like to thank him for unknowingly adding to the blog post with his camera skills, all credit goes to him. You can read his movie/TV review blog posts, right here on the SomewhatNerdy site. Just saying.
Hope you're having a lovely day, and thank you for taking the time to read this ramble of a blog post. The second part covering Edinburgh will be up soon.
Eventually we got to our destination and arrived at roughly 9:30pm on the Sunday, April 17th.
Where We Stayed: When myself and the boyfriend decided to drive up to Scotland we knew we wanted to visit Loch Ness. It wasn't even a question. And as the one responsible of our accommodation, I began to look for an Inn or something similar that was reasonably priced for the two nights that we'd be there. That is how I stumbled across the Loch Ness Glamping site.
Loch Ness Glamping: When I say Glamping, you may think of something Only Way Is Essex style and instantly want to mock me. It's okay, I did the same to myself when I first brought up the idea. But it was actually really beautiful and at £58 per night, far cheaper than most things I was finding. I want to add that never in my life have I gone camping. I'd love to but I've never known how I would handle it. I'm not overly fond of nature (grass phobia, it's a thing), and I'm usually freezing in a house that has central heating. See where I'm going with this? I digress. This was a new territory to me, and if anything, it's made me want to actually camp.
We opted to stay in an Armardilla (Number 3, to be precise), and it was perfect. We arrived quite late due to the drive and the owners of the property, Sonia and Graham, were nothing but understanding. Upon arrival, Sonia came out to greet us and after showing us the accommodation suggested that we pay in the morning to save us from having to trek back to the car, which I thought was very kind. I'd like to quickly add that when I was researching our options, they were also incredibly helpful through email and responded quickly. Little things, but admirable. All of which add to the experience of your stay.
Where We Stayed: When myself and the boyfriend decided to drive up to Scotland we knew we wanted to visit Loch Ness. It wasn't even a question. And as the one responsible of our accommodation, I began to look for an Inn or something similar that was reasonably priced for the two nights that we'd be there. That is how I stumbled across the Loch Ness Glamping site.
Loch Ness Glamping: When I say Glamping, you may think of something Only Way Is Essex style and instantly want to mock me. It's okay, I did the same to myself when I first brought up the idea. But it was actually really beautiful and at £58 per night, far cheaper than most things I was finding. I want to add that never in my life have I gone camping. I'd love to but I've never known how I would handle it. I'm not overly fond of nature (grass phobia, it's a thing), and I'm usually freezing in a house that has central heating. See where I'm going with this? I digress. This was a new territory to me, and if anything, it's made me want to actually camp.
We opted to stay in an Armardilla (Number 3, to be precise), and it was perfect. We arrived quite late due to the drive and the owners of the property, Sonia and Graham, were nothing but understanding. Upon arrival, Sonia came out to greet us and after showing us the accommodation suggested that we pay in the morning to save us from having to trek back to the car, which I thought was very kind. I'd like to quickly add that when I was researching our options, they were also incredibly helpful through email and responded quickly. Little things, but admirable. All of which add to the experience of your stay.
 |
| Bonus photo: On the second day we were greeted back at the site with a double rainbow. |
Where We Ate
Food. Probably the second best thing about a vacation. I'll admit we didn't go crazy in trying new things, but my better half did develop a fondness for Irn Bru and tried Haggis, twice. Nutter. So I have two mini restaurant reviews for you. Exciting stuff, especially as I'm so good at reviewing stuff (sarcasm).
The Loch Ness Inn: On our second day but first proper night in Scotland, we went out for dinner to The Loch Ness Inn. The restaurant offers a free pick-up and drop-off service for anyone staying within 5 miles of the place, which was what we chose to do. Might I just add how much of a nice touch that is, especially if only one person of your party can drive. The food was great, the atmosphere even better, and the service was excellent. All staff were really friendly and happy to engage in conversation with you. They offer a range of Ale options from the local Loch Ness brewery that sits a short walk away from the restaurant itself, which my partner would recommend to you. He had the beef and I had pasta - the range of veggie options isn't spectacular, I think there were two on the menu and one on the specials board, but if you know that going in, it's no biggie.
It was a lovely place for a spontaneous date, and I would definitely recommend it if you're staying in the area. I failed miserably at taking photos of my food during this trip, but my partner did so I'll just keep putting his at the end of these restaurant "reviews".
The Dores Inn: The Dores Inn was a miracle in our eyes. Located in a beautiful spot right near the water (pictured far, far below), it was the perfect spot to round up the Loch Ness part of our trip. The restaurant itself has a warm interior, with comfortable seating. The food was really good. On the menu there were your classic pub dishes as well as options you wouldn't find in most places, a nice mix for the traditional and foodies. Near the bar they offered a range of homemade cake slices, which I had to steer my partner away from. It was.. comfortable. I think that sums it up. You didn't feel rushed or out of place, the scenery was beautiful and I imagine it could be a rather romantic option in the evening.
My partner had the haggis stuffed chicken, which he has now decided was his favourite meal during the trip. I was plain and ordered a Quorn burger, but it was very good and a nice change of pace than a regular vegetable burger, which is what most places offer. Once again, I forgot to take a photo but my cameraman took a snapshot of his.
Things We Did
I wasn't feeling too well after the car journey (thanks Fibro), and although my ever understanding partner didn't mind staying in and simply watching something together, we had to do some touristy things. I mean, we were in Scotland! So be prepared for tourist cheesiness in this section of these blog posts.
Loch Ness Exhibition: The Exhibition is situated just down the road from the Glamping site, so it seemed like a smart choice for our first day. It was enjoyable but in the words of my guy: it's a tourist trap. And bloody expensive for what it as. I think you have to do some cliché touristy things when in certain areas as it all adds to the experience, but would I go again or recommend it to someone/you? Maybe not. It's mostly a lot of sitting and watching a projector as they tell us how Nessie isn't real. You may be better off spending your money elsewhere.
So after lunch, we wandered out and took in the scenery. I'll let the photos do the talking for this one, as no words can do it justice.
Please excuse my deformed looking hand in the last photo. And that damn strand of hair. I felt and looked like a mess that day. But the views were beautiful and it was the perfect end to our 2 day trip. From there we got in the car and drove down to Edinburgh, which I'll get onto in the next Scotland post.
We didn't do a whole bunch, but we accomplished what we wanted and will hopefully one day return for a more backpacking type trip. Health can just be a bitch. You have to enjoy what little moments you can manage. I'll be eternally grateful for how much patience that man pictured above had with me for the duration of the week. It was his vacation and he never once made me feel bad for unintentionally ruining some of our plans. I'm a very lucky gal, that's for sure. I'd also like to thank him for unknowingly adding to the blog post with his camera skills, all credit goes to him. You can read his movie/TV review blog posts, right here on the SomewhatNerdy site. Just saying.
Hope you're having a lovely day, and thank you for taking the time to read this ramble of a blog post. The second part covering Edinburgh will be up soon.
- Anne x
Book Review || Room by Emma Donoghue.
5/01/2016
Hello there blogger earthlings and trusted readers, yes, I'm alive. As you may notice, I've abandoned my blog for a good month and a half. Usually I'd be apologizing for that, but to be frank, I'm anything but sorry. During the first three weeks of April, I was having the most wonderful time with my better half. Travelling, doing touristy things, and just enjoying each others company with barely any Internet time. It was refreshing, but I'll delve into that whole thing on my next blog post. Stay tuned.
Today I'm going to write up a quick review on a book that I put down not 10 minutes ago. You've probably heard of Room by Emma Donoghue, whether by a friends recommendation or the latest news on the movie. It's a No. 1 Bestseller and as I just mentioned, it's been adapted into a movie starring Brie Larson as Ma and Jacob Tremblay as our protagonist Jack. But I'll talk more about that later, for now let's concentrate on the novel..
In Room we follow the story of 5 year old Jack and his Ma, both of whom live in a renovated shed that their capture "Old Nick" has turned into a.. well, room - Ma's home for the last 7 years and all that little Jack has ever known. We don't know why they're there straight off the bat, nor do we know whether they can get out. That's all revealed to us as it's revealed to Jack, which I like. I've always favoured stories that are written in first person, and Room is no exception.
To be entirely honest, Room isn't what I was expecting and I can't really give a detailed description of the story without giving spoilers which I want to avoid at all cost. So trust me when I say that it's a beautifully written novel. As there are very few characters, you quickly grow attached to them and their development (especially Jack's) is a wonderful thing to read. For some reason I was expecting a tense and suspense-fuelled read, but what I got instead was a endearing story about what comes after a story ends. That may not make sense, but it might if you read it.
I would advise anyone to give Room a go, if they have the time. It comes in at 401 pages and I finished it in a little over 3 hours. Yes, I read it in one sitting and I think that aided in my ability to be sucked completely into the story. Not once did I look at the time, nor did I grow tired of reading from the perspective of a five year old, which, to be truthful, I thought I would. There aren't chapters to this book, it's in 5 parts and in my opinion, you ought to read it like that. Thinking about it, you have to be in the right mood for Room. You need the silence around you. Truthfully, I'm uncertain as to whether I would of remained consistent with it if it were not for today. I might have put the book aside and then lost the atmosphere, ruining the experience of the story as I dipped in and out of it.
It's an experience more than entertaining, one you ought to go through in pace with Jack.
If I were a book reviewer or on Goodreads (I really should get on that), I'd rate Room a 4 out of 5.
Now let's quickly mention the movie adaptation that I haven't seen, nor do I have any plans to. Normally I wouldn't mention anything about it, because why would I? I haven't seen the movie. What on earth could I possibly say about it? Well, definitely one thing.. Don't watch that trailer if you're even thinking of reading Room, as it dismisses the first third of the book and completely spoils one of the focal things in the book. As in, practically shows the whole scene. I may be bias and many people who haven't read it may have already heard spoilers or whatnot, but I still can't wrap my head around why they would completely give away most of the story in the first 20 seconds of the trailer. I'll stop ranting now. But, really? Oh, and my other vice with the trailer is, what the heck were those scenes? I spotted at least 3 that weren't in the book. Movie adaptations are known to cut scenes from the book to fit into their time restraint, so why add other scenes causing you to lose more that were actually in the book? At least the casting is half decent, unlike Dark Places that cast purely on actor recognition.
To put it simply, a movie adaptation is never going to work tremendously well when the entirety of the book they're basing it off is built around you - the reader - experiencing the world through the eyes of a five year old boy. You simply can't translate that to screen, which is why stories like this are usually told in written form. Ah well.
If you do see the movie, tweet me at @RootingBranches and give me your thoughts. I'd love to know them!
Look out for my Scotland stuffed blog post coming your way later this week.
- Anne x
#MentalMovement
3/18/2016
"When we deny the story, it define us.
When we own the story, we can write a brave new ending."
My debut post was released today into the big wide world of the Internet, but that isn't necessarily why I wanted to quickly write up this post (although it is somewhat of a shameless plug). The platform #MentalMovement hopes to tarnish the stigma around mental health and hope to offer a safe haven for those of us who are finding it hard to wake up in the morning and are crippled with the fear that we're going through our battles alone.
It's a varied site with something that could help each and every single one of you, so I'd truly appreciate it if you went over there and gave it a look through. The writers are all incredible humans who have first hand experience in the topics they discuss, which I'd personally find comforting as a reader. They know what they're talking about, and they will not make you feel silly or inadequate for having problems that aren't what class as "visible". They will help you.
Use your Internet time to make your heart lay softer.
Here are the links to everything surrounding the site:
And lastly, my post:
We are living in the age of the Internet - where it is possible to connect with someone halfway around the world by typing a few words. There is no longer any reason why someone should go through a mental illness alone.
- Anne x
The Visit
Becca and her younger brother Tyler go to visit their Grandparents for a week. Upon arrival, everything is great and Becca eagerly records everything on her camera (Oh, yeah, this is the "found footage" type of movie. Something I usually hate.. But we'll get onto that in a bit,), as the young teen is filming a documentary on their visit to Nana and Pop Pop's. Her main goal actually being to unravel the mystery of why her mum left home and no longer has contact with the Grandparents. But things go haywire real fast. The kids are given two rules: Don't go in the basement as there is mold. And don't come out of your bedroom after 9:30pm. Simple, right? Nope, cue Grandma acting a little loony. And a cookie craving.
As I previously mentioned, this is filmed entirely through a handheld camera which I do usually hate and to be perfectly honest, I wasn't overly fond of it in this movie either. Especially for the last few scenes. It made it hard to see what the hell was going on and that took away the scare factor. But then the first half might of not been as creepy if it weren't for the style of filming. Eh. I'm in two minds about it. Tell me your opinion if you've watched it.
There isn't much else I can say about this movie without giving away the plot or the few scenes that are actually creepy. It's most definitely one you have to experience for yourself. Throughout the 90ish minutes of The Visit you will be wondering what the hell is going on, and the reason for it all was actually a pleasant surprise to me which is usually not the case. If I choose to re-watch this any time soon (which I'm unsure whether I would, to be honest), it will be creeper now I know why the Grandparents are acting odd.
Oh, I almost forgot - the acting. It was actually good. It's always a worry when children/teens are the main character(s) in a thriller type horror as the acting can be questionable, but Olivia DeJonge and Ed Oxenbould did a decent job. As did the Grandparents. Nothing extraordinary, but believable.
On a whole, I liked it more than I thought I would but I wouldn't jump at the chance to watch it again. If you enjoy the atmosphere that such films as Annabelle, Orphan, or The Possession give, then maybe give it a go.
You can watch the Trailer for The Visit HERE.
The Green Inferno
Cannibals? A group of students that will likely get slaughtered? Sounds like a good time. You may think I'm being sarcastic, but no, that was my reaction when I read the back of this case in the supermarket. The Green Inferno can only be described as Ghost On Mars meets Hostel (which makes sense as it has the same creator as Hostel. Duh, Anne.). To be entirely honest, I'm not usually a fan of Eli Roth, his movies seem one dimensional to me and I'm not a huge fan of the torture porn aspect that he seems to enjoy so much. Knock, Knock was hands down the worst movie I watched last year, and despite my usual love for horror movies, the Hostel's don't do anything for me though I can appreciate them for what they are intended to be. My point being.. I was a tiny bit apprehensive watching The Green Inferno due to my usual dislike of his movies and I'll admit to going in with my judgemental hat on, but alas, it was for not. I really, really, really liked it.
The protagonist of the movie is Justine, a student and daughter of someone important. She gets roped into going along with a group of student activists to "save the Amazon rain forest" from desecration. but of course, it doesn't exactly go to plan once they discover they aren't alone. Standard. It is incredibly gory, but I'm assuming you knew that once I wrote the word "cannibals".
The cast in the movie is definitely the strong point, I very much doubt it would be as good if the actors were shoddy. There is somewhat of a cliché when it comes to the student group - we have the douchebag leader guy, the bitchy girlfriend who you want to punch in the nose, the tattooed "no messing" girl, the friendly guy who people keep putting down for his looks even though his isn't overweight or bad looking, the hysterical blonde girl who looks like she should work on a farm, the smart guy who looks like he's in his thirties, and the stoner dude - but I'm willing to look past all of this. Really, I am.
I think what made this movie a sitting at the edge of your seat, sweaty palms, stress-mess is the story itself. It's realistic and things similar do happen, unlike say, a burnt guy visiting your dreams. There is one scene that had me squirming enough to sympathize with any guy who watches Bone Dry. Two words for any fellas out there: cactus and penis. Yeah. I won't ruin the scene in The Green Inferno for anyone who enjoys horrendous pulse-quickening scenes, but you'll likely guess what the scene will be within the first 5 minutes of the movie thanks to a lecturer educating us on the lives of those living in the rain forest. Eek.
If you enjoy gritty horrors that are less about the scares and more about the gore and chase, then I recommend you give this a go. I'm looking forward to watching it for the second time.
You can watch the trailer for The Green Inferno HERE.
The Culling
The movie follows five decently acted friends (one being Jeremy Sumpter who starred as "Peter Pan") as they travel to a music festival, when much to the drivers dismay, they take a detour to stop at a roadside diner for food and happen to stumble across the little girl, Lucy. Stranded and alone due to her Grandpa supposedly laving her there, the gang are left with no other choice other to drive the lost girl home. The series of events that follow are a little long-winded and questionable, but result in them having to spend the night and eventually, face shadows and things that go bump in the night.
If it weren't for the mystery element of this movie, it may of not been as enjoyable and perhaps that is why I have no interest in re-watching it. But my mother, someone who loves paranormally type movies, really enjoyed it. So, it depends on what style you enjoy. If you can find a way to watch it for free and have a few hours to kill, then have at it.
You can watch the trailer for The Culling HERE.
So there you have it. This is a new style of post and I'd appreciate your thoughts on it. Also, if you have any horror recommendations, that'd be much appreciated. Shoot me a tweet at RootingBranches, or you know, comment.
Have a lovely day!
- Anne x
What She Left
written by T. R. Richmond is a modern day mystery book unlike
any other. I stumbled across it due to my
need of finding a book in Tesco to get a discount. Okay.. not a
discount. You save 90p. But any reason to buy more books, right? (2
for £7 on all paperbacks, just FYI. Supermarket book aisles are hidden gems.). Let's get onto the lengthy review. Bear with me.
I've always had a soft spot for mysteries, even the bad ones that only result in making you loathe the instantly unlike-able characters (looking at you Gillian Flynn). What makes What She Left different, you might ask? Well.. Not only is it good, it is beyond clever. The book is a collection of journal entries, letters, blog posts, tweets and much more that binds together beautifully to tell you the life of Alice Salmon, also known as the dead girl found floating in the river. Before we get into the story itself (spoiler free!), let me just pay awe to the style in which this book is written. Although there are likely tens of books put together in a similar style as What She Left, this was the first I have found. It reads like a case file, to put it simply. It's fragmented into sections and different styles (as I already said), helping you follow the story through the ways in which each character chooses to tell it you. The book relies heavily on the domino affect of life, and it is rather interesting to see how each characters individual story binds together to unravel the Alice mystery.
Alice is a
wonderfully written character and I related to her quite a bit, which
made the experience of the book all the more enjoyable. She is strongly written with a lot to say, and it's enjoyable to
get glimpses into her mind - even if it is a tangible mess at times
(much like mine, and yours probably). The book can be a tad patchy as we continuously jump through the years and onto different
characters, but I enjoyed that.
Mostly we delve into Alice's world,
her family life growing up, the two relationships that shaped her,
and her own personal battles through diary entries. My personal favourite snippets throughout the book. We also follow Luke, the boyfriend who writes out their story on the notes of his
laptop. Then there is Megan, the best friend who is writing through
her grief via a blog. And finally, Professor Jeremy Crooke, the
man writing letters to a friend explaining the story of Alice in it's entirety; from start to
finish. But how is he involved? Ahh, you'll have to read to see.
These four mentioned characters are arguably the defining voices of the story. But as well as them, we have online forums of students speaking of their own theories,
Alice's published work that gives us glimpses into how she sees the
world, scripted police tapes of people/witnesses who speak of their
final encounters with Alice, texts and voice mail messages of
conversations between characters, tweets, articles theorising her
death, and so much more.
To be perfectly honest, I was a tad bit sceptical when I went into this as I doubted whether you could connect to any character when you aren't properly being put into their world, but if anything, this way of story telling caused you to have a more realistic feel of the characters and their thoughts. It fascinated me, the notion that you can find so much about someone in the modern day world without ever having to meet them. That you could do so with anyone who puts pen to paper, fingertips to keyboard, or picks up a camera and vlogs. Nowadays our personal character is also put online for the world to see, especially if, like me, you blog. Or you, hell, if you choose to be wordy on Facebook. 10 years ago, you would've had to have long and meaningful conversations with someone to get inside their head and find out what's rattling around in there, to know of their hopes and worries, but now? You just need to “add” or "follow" someone on a website and you get a somewhat large insight into their world. Or at the very least, the parts of their world that they choose to share. It's as scary as it is interesting.
As What She Left is a mystery, I
ought to probably write something about the ending without giving
away any spoilers.. Okay, I didn't love it. I guessed part of the outcome a fair few
chapters before the end, but the reasoning behind said thing that
happened was unexpected. Almost too unexpected. I feel as though the
author ought to of hinted toward said thing during the book to make
it feel not so... out of the blue. But then I suppose one could argue
that doing so would of ruined it. Eh. The story was worth it for me, I
didn't turn the final page disappointed and that is all I can ask
for. If/after you've read the book, you'll know what I mean. Until
then, I probably sound insane to you.
It's hard to say much
about this story without giving away anything, so all I can do is
encourage you to give it a go. Whether you're into mysteries or not.
It's a page turner and has beautifully written characters, flaws and
all. It is always difficult when the protagonist of the book doesn't
survive, and it is worse when that happens during the first page as
you know there is no turning back and no way of survival for her/him.
Yet What She Left is an honourable tale for our main girl, and the
journey through her life is a lovely one. One most definitely worth taking.
If I were a blogger who
rated books, it'd give it 8/10.
Thank you for reading.
- Anne x
3 Product Budget Skincare Routine.
1/27/2016
Today we are going to discuss skincare. Oh, wow. I'm finally earning that #bbloggers hashtag that I overuse on Twitter and Instagram. Slightly. Skin care falls into the beauty category.. right? You'd think I'd know that after the amount of beauty Youtubers I watch. I'll study all this if I plan on any similar posts in future, I promise.
I'll happily admit that my routine isn't the most.. fancy. I'm a simple gal when it comes to things that touch my face and my skin seems to like it that way. Why mess with something that's working out? I have combination skin, prone to dry patches over the bridge of my nose. I have your average hormonal break outs over "that time of the month" but they usually clear up within a few days and after many pints of water.
Let's get into the routine:
Morning: Water. Water, water. You've heard it a million times, the classic "drink more water!" spiel, but I swear to you it helps. I'd like to say that I accompany said water with green tea, but that'd be a blatant lie. All about that coffee. The fortnight before my trip to Germany I was good and managed to stick to a pint of water and large mug of green tea in the morning, and my skin really did thrive. But... coffee. I need to regain that self control. I do stray from dairy at any possible opportunity, but yes. Now, for the actual products.. First off I use the Clean & Clear Blackhead Clearing Oil-Free Daily Scrub, and then proceed to lather on a pea sized amount of Sudocrem. If I'm applying make up, I'll add a drop of the Garnier Skin Moister Match Wake Me Up, which adds a subtle glow to my skin and makes it feel wonderfully soft. But truth be told, I only do that if I remember. Most days I stick to concealer under my eyes and slap some power on my brows.
Night: This is where the routine gets exciting. Oil! Oooh. I've tried the various micellar waters that are on the market, but for me nothing compares to a few drops of the Derma V10 Rescue Oil (which you can also purchase from Home Bargains or Poundland) on a cotton pad. One drop on a cotton pad and a single swipe will remove at least 80% of eye make-up. I kid you not. This is a blatant copy of the good ol' classic Bio Oil, but I would never justify the price of that for a simple make-up remover. To prevent my skin from going too oily, I then go on to having a good scrub with the same face wash I used in the morning (obviously. There's only one scrub listed. Smart one, Anne.). Some might say using the scrub morning and night would be a little harsh on the skin, but it suits mine perfectly. I have tried using a softer product in the morning but I never found one that didn't dry me out. So.. I'll stick to this for now. After the wash, you guessed it, I slap on Sudocrem and hop into bed.
So, there you have it. I am also going to include a scary shot of my make-up free face in natural daylight without any editing/filters, as I find it ridiculous to take skincare advice from someone whose skin you haven't seen. I'll apologize now for the dry lips and dead looking eyes.
The only thing my routine is missing out massively on is a good treatment for blackheads. Whether it be a wash, targeted treatment, or mask. They're the bane of my existence. The daily scrub is good and does the trick, but sometimes I'd like a more scrubbier version for those days I want to get right in there. I've tried various branded pore strips, but they just seem to dry out the area I "strip" and the blackheads don't appear to budge. If you have any recommendations, shoot me a comment or tweet! It would be much appreciated.
What are your top budget skincare products? Do you like your skincare simple, or do you like a wide variety of products? Let me know!
- Anne x
As mentioned in my previous Living With Body Dysmorphia: My Story post, one of my resolutions this year was to post more fashion related content. So here it is, my first ever fashion post. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a tad nervous. Silly, I know. The photo quality is awful and the mirror isn't the most clear, but this is new to me and I don't want to invest in anything better until I know for sure that I want to continue with this segment. Before I ramble on, let's get into this..
Little fact about me.. I love fashion and TV shows. A whole bunch. So much so that I am known to take inspiration from fictional characters when it comes to my daily outfits. If it weren't for a few weeks ago, I wouldn't of thought this to be a problem. But I there I was, standing in front of my wardrobe deciding on an outfit, and I realised that I was basing what I wanted to wear by which character's mentality I wanted for the day. Yeah.. This could be the defining moment that one would realise they have lost their marbles, but I'm a cup half full kind of girl so instead I saw an opportunity for blog posts. Yippee. You gain from my inability to be sane! This segment will be called.. *insert drum roll here* .. Inspired OOTD's! Don't be disheartened by my originality, I was born with it. (That was sarcasm, btw.) In all seriousness, I'm really looking forward to trying my hand at these posts and I hope you enjoy skimming them. Please be kind.
My first outfit post is inspired by the most underrated character to ever be on a sitcom: The Mother in How I Met Your Mother, also known as Tracy Mosby (née McConnell) played by Cristin Milioti. Rather ironic, isn't it? The entire show was dedicated to her and Ted's story, yet we barely got a handful of episodes with her awesomeness. A shame. Anywho, I fell in love with this outfit (pictured below) that she wore over the course of a few episodes and immediately began to look for a similar dress. You might recognize the dress from the 50 Shades Of Grey movie, as Dakota Johnson's character Anastasia Steele wore the same one at some point. Only she paired it with a grey blazer, tights and some brogues, A nice version that I might also recreate at some point. Not that I would want her character's mentality. Oy vey.
Little fact about me.. I love fashion and TV shows. A whole bunch. So much so that I am known to take inspiration from fictional characters when it comes to my daily outfits. If it weren't for a few weeks ago, I wouldn't of thought this to be a problem. But I there I was, standing in front of my wardrobe deciding on an outfit, and I realised that I was basing what I wanted to wear by which character's mentality I wanted for the day. Yeah.. This could be the defining moment that one would realise they have lost their marbles, but I'm a cup half full kind of girl so instead I saw an opportunity for blog posts. Yippee. You gain from my inability to be sane! This segment will be called.. *insert drum roll here* .. Inspired OOTD's! Don't be disheartened by my originality, I was born with it. (That was sarcasm, btw.) In all seriousness, I'm really looking forward to trying my hand at these posts and I hope you enjoy skimming them. Please be kind.
-
My first outfit post is inspired by the most underrated character to ever be on a sitcom: The Mother in How I Met Your Mother, also known as Tracy Mosby (née McConnell) played by Cristin Milioti. Rather ironic, isn't it? The entire show was dedicated to her and Ted's story, yet we barely got a handful of episodes with her awesomeness. A shame. Anywho, I fell in love with this outfit (pictured below) that she wore over the course of a few episodes and immediately began to look for a similar dress. You might recognize the dress from the 50 Shades Of Grey movie, as Dakota Johnson's character Anastasia Steele wore the same one at some point. Only she paired it with a grey blazer, tights and some brogues, A nice version that I might also recreate at some point. Not that I would want her character's mentality. Oy vey.
So here is my recreation. The only part I'm missing tremendously are an alternative for these boots that she pairs with her outfit in the show. If some are out there, I will find them. But for the time being, I substituted them with my much loved New Look boots.
Dress || Peacocks
Parka Jacket || New Look
Cowboy Style Suede Boots || New Look
Face || My own
I sadly couldn't find a dress that was striking similar, but this alternative from Peacocks was a bargainness (that a word?) £12 and has a similar colour palette. That'll do, Pig. Now.. the jacket. You wouldn't think it, but this was the hardest item to find. All parkas seemed to either have a fur lining, no string to nip in the waist, or were the wrong shade of green. I was about to give up when I stumbled across this gem on a messy sales rack in New Look. The best part? £15! The only thing it doesn't have is the option to roll up the sleeves but as I live in Wales, I doubt that option will be missed much.
So, there you have it. I promise to not ramble as much in my next Inspired OOTD. I'm thinking of doing one of these every fortnight or so, but we'll see.
I hope you all have a lovely weekend.
- Anne x
Living With Body Dysmorphia : My Story.
1/18/2016
I've wanted to write this post since I made this blog over a year ago. I wanted to use whatever platform I have for good. I wanted to help at least one person who might be going through something vaguely similar to me. I wanted.. I wanted a lot. Turns out, it isn't always that easy. I found myself constantly putting this post off by finding something else to write about, procrastinating until I "didn't have the time", but no more. This was a resolution, and I stick to those things. This will be a long one, and I apologize if you aren't the least bit interested in reading about me and my life. I'm not sure whether there is even a point to this post just yet, but I know I need to write it and that ought to be enough. Perhaps we'll figure it out together. Grab a tea (Or coffee. Go with coffee.), and I hope you make sense of my rambles.
According to the NHS website, Body Dysmorphic Disorder (also known as BDD) affects 1 in every 100 people in the UK alone. It's an anxiety based condition, and my own likely stemmed from social anxiety and a low period in my teenage years. Now, I'm not a doctor nor am I trained in the medical field. I can just about put a plaster on a cut. So how much insight I can offer into the condition itself is based solely on my own experience. I have yet to seek medical help, although I did have a batch of therapy late last Autumn that was initially meant for discussing my health but happened to stumble onto this topic a whole bunch. Turns out, I kind of suck at discussing things that affect me to strangers. Or friends. Or the boyfriend. My issue is, I feel like I will annoy them by burdening them with such information, which is beyond idiotic as I'd likely be offended if they felt they couldn't come to me with their own worries or problems. Anne's brain, ladies and folks.
For this to make an ounce of sense, we'll have to start at the beginning. I had just turned 12 when I started to dislike my appearance. I would look in the mirror and hate the girl staring back at me, I often still do that. You can't say I'm not a young lady of habit, heh. Yes, I mask my awkwardness with humour. I was chubbier than most girls my age back then, due to various reasons that really don't matter in this blog post. One could argue that it was just that stage of chubbiness that most girls go through,, hormones and physical changes playing a big part in it. I was a young developer. I had lumps of fat on my chest before anyone I knew, and my hips swelled outward. It was just a part of growing up, but I couldn't see past my own reflection to realise that. Or listen to what my mother was yammering on in my ear.
The following year was what I'd call my turning point. For the better? Probably not. But it was the year that moulded me into the person I am today. Home life changed a whole lot and because of that I gained a hefty amount of free time, which I chose to use by becoming obsessed with that reflection I keep referring to. I became aware of what a calorie was, and discovered the likes of Wii Fit and stomach crunches. I lost just under 2 stone in a matter of months. It was unhealthy and I don't want to properly delve into what I put my body through as I don't want to give impressionable readers any ridiculous ideas (you never know with the Internet.), but it was an obsession. I've already used that term to describe the situation and I usually hate repeating myself, but there isn't another word that does it justice. My work outs went from 30 minutes to over 7 hours. I would find myself pulling an all nighter to continue working out when the other people in the household were asleep. I pushed myself above and beyond, all while restricting myself to a mere third of one's usual calorie intake when on a diet. It was.. messy. I was a mess. I don't want to label myself as having an eating disorder, as I find it too big of a word to put on what I went through. So many other girls in the world have it far, far, far worse and my story isn't as important as theirs. So I don't feel like I have a right to include myself on that list, if that makes any sense. Therefore, I will just say that I was a troubled teen. I thought that being thin would result in being happy. Alas, it did not.
Because of all this, I grew up to find it ridiculously hard to eat in front of people. I found it difficult to talk about food with people I didn't know extremely well. I still do, and I still find it difficult to stop working out after 15 minutes, despite the fact that I know it will cause me a great deal of pain. Oh, yes. Fibromyalgia. I ought to probably explain that little dent in my story. It is what doctors describe as a 'chronic pain condition' that affects people in a various ways. I, myself, get widespread pain and skin sensitivity after prolonged activity or stress, followed by fatigue, migraines, and patches of insomnia. I was officially diagnosed shortly after I turned seventeen, but the signs had been there from when I was 13 years old. Yeah, the strain that I put on my body could of brought forth the condition sooner than it would have if I had not, but that is something we can never know for certain. It's just a thing. It's there and I'm still in the process of easing it. But anywho, this is besides the point.. Exercise was my escape, and I lost that the second pain became it's following act. This is undoubtedly the main reason why I have such an unhealthy relationship with food. It's my only source of control. I can't choose when to work up a sweat any more, nor can I choose where my life is leading.. But food? I can choose what goes in my mouth and I get the choice of how much gets eaten. It's terrible to write such a thing, but I can't hide from the abundant truth. I lack a sense of leadership in my own life, so my mind naturally takes advantage of it when I find some.
This is the part of the story where facts get blurred and the timeline gets muddled. All I know is, I never felt like I lost a pound in spite of those years. I'm 19 years old as I write this, and I still don't. I wake up everyday and feel embarrassed when I look into that shiny thing we call a mirror. That may be too honest, but that's the point of writing this. Honesty. I often feel sickened when I'm getting dressed and I can feel the skin of my body being tugged and squishing together, when I walk and can feel the way my thighs and stomach wobble and I'm adamant others can see it through the layers that I'm wearing. It hit me the hardest around a week ago, when I was shopping for clothes and tried on three items that were all a size 8 (that's an American size 4 and a European size 36, just FYI), and they were all loose on me, to the point of being unwearable. Loose. A size 8. I didn't and still don't understand. When I looked into that changing room mirror, my body looked at least three sizes larger than that. Not that there is anything wrong with that size, or any size for that matter, so please don't take my words the wrong way. It's just a difficult one to explain. It's hard to voice your thoughts when you never have done before. When I was that 12 year old girl, I envisioned myself being a certain size and being happy because of it, that I would feel confident in my skin if I were what society classes as "small". But I'm not. I can't see it and keep making excuses as to why a shop would make those size 8's in my size. Bad manufacturing, perhaps. And the second store's clothing was meant to be real baggy, that's why it was a little big on me. My brain constantly does this and perhaps because of these pathetic excuses, I can't see what ought to be right in front of me.
I'm now truly scared that I will never feel comfortable in my own skin.
Christ almighty, that was a tough sentence to write. I would normally distract from it with a photo of a cat, but that wouldn't be very professional given the nature of this post.
It may seem silly to some of you that a lack of confidence could be such a burden on someone's daily life. It may even seem conceded. I might agree if this was just about me, but it isn't. There are so many people outside of my story who suffer a great deal with BDD, and I would hate for them to feel big-headed for simply being unhappy. BDD is real and I'm slightly proud of myself for finally seeing that - there was a time that I never thought it to be possible.
Like many conditions, there are good and bad days. Some days I feel brave enough to take a selfie, and only feel like crap for a few hours afterwards. I may even be strong enough to snap a shot of whatever I'm eating and send it to a friend. On the bad days, I don't want to get out of bed. The thought of leaving the house for work or shopping is horrendous, and all I want to do is curl in a ball and cry. Some days I can barely look in the mirror, while the next I want to stare into it every 5 minutes and point out everything that is wrong with me. I can wear a dress and feel okay in it, only to try it on a few days later and weep at the disgusting sight. Same goes for photos. That selfie I took on a good day could be hideous to me hours later, because the many flaws of my face have somehow become louder to my mind. It's waves. Waves of emotions and thoughts. You can't know how you're going to be tomorrow, let alone in a week's time. And as easy as it seems to trust a loved one's opinion on the matter, your brain argues that you can't. Your opinion is the only one that matters to you, because you're the object of argument.
My goal this year was to post more outfit related posts on this blog as fashion is a passion of mine. I adore a good tea dress and have more heels than I could possibly (or hope to) wear. I find nothing more satisfying than a good blazer, and have a major weak spot when it comes to collars. Yet I've been too chicken to post anything resembling a OOTD on here because my body wasn't "ready" yet. 5 weeks ago I posted the first photo below on my Instagram (RootingBranches, btw), and guess what? The world didn't end. Despite the fact various people could see my arms, and I was dressed as an elf (which was arguably the best part of the photo). I'm not going to lie, I've debated deleting the post every single day that it's been up - even this morning. But I didn't and haven't. Powering through, people. So to test the waters further, I uploaded another outfit photo on the 14th of this month. 4 days ago. Which is also pictured below. And guess what? The world, once again, didn't end.
The point of doing this is not to gain attention, good or bad. Or to make people pity me and do the obligatory "you look good!" comments. It's to show how average I am. I look at both of those pictures and I hate them. I see a blob that's trying to look humanly. I see chubby spots and cheeks that are three sizes too big. I see the arms that prevent me from wearing anything sleeveless in public (I hid in a cardigan for the entirety of my career as an elf), and the thighs that make me pair tights with shorts in Summer. I see a wonky boob (yeah, that's a thing. Being a girl is fun.), and wide hips. I digress, there is a point to all of this. Right now, I pledge to try and learn that this is only my interpretation of the images. You may look at them and see something completely different, for better or worse. And that is okay. It's wonderfully human.
My story is what it is. It's messy, but tidier than most people's. Some days I manage, and others I find myself struggling through. But it's me. It's my tale to tell, and you have your own. If you relate to me in the slightest, then I'm ever so sorry that you have to go through the difficulty that is BDD. It's painful and affects your daily life in a way most won't or rather, can't, understand. It's easier to say than do, but you have to learn to accept that a rare few will belittle you for feeling the way you do as they deem it ridiculous or stupid, and there will be some people who look at you strangely in the street for whatever reason. Loved ones who don't know of the battle going on it your mind might make passing thoughtless comments that hurt your feelings. They won't remember what they said in an hours time, but you will cry at night repeating it over and over in your head. It's raw and aches in that way sadness does, but you can get through it. As - this the part you need to jot down - there will also be people in this world who find you beautiful. Who desire your body, or long to have your legs (or waist, or neck, or whatever.). You may scoff just reading this, and I can't ridicule you for that as it would be ridiculous to do so when I, myself, don't believe any compliment that's thrown my way. But you have to try. Just as I am trying by writing this post. How else are we going to get through it all?
I could write more. I could of probably written less. There are still gaps in my story, but they are for another time. For now, I think I'm going to leave it here. At the end of this post I'm going to list some options for you if you want to reach out for help. But I'm not going to preach about it, as it would be awfully hypocritical of me. Just talk to someone. Professional or not. My email is rootingbranches@outlook.com and you are more than welcome to shoot a message my way. My other links are on the sidebar. Just think about it.
If you know of someone going through this, just do one thing for me.. don't brush their feeling aside as you think it's untrue and can see their beauty. To them, tit's frighteningly real. There is no worse feeling than when you pour your heart out to someone as you feel horrendous, and they reply with a simple "But you're beautiful." or "To me you're beautiful.". They won't believe you, and will be reluctant to come back to you at the risk of you thinking they're being dumb. Listen to them. Ask questions. Don't walk on egg shells. You were given a voice, use it.
Where am I going to go from here? I haven't the faintest idea. I'm going through a rough patch and that is largely due to some complications in my private life that aren't necessarily blog appropriate. It'll get better, it's bound to. I just need to wait it out. I'll silently wait to feel sane again, and meanwhile try my darn hardest to stop comparing myself to others. Or rather, stop thinking that those around me are making comparisons between myself and others. Especially the boyfriend. I'm well aware it makes me look stupid, and I'm constantly scared that I'm pushing him away by feeling the way I do about myself. If you have BDD and a partner, then you will know what I mean. If not, then I won't properly delve into my thought train on this. As I would likely come out of it looking pathetic.The second thing I aim to do is work on my relationship with food, as that isn't at it's best right now. I need to find a balance.
Perhaps I will do a follow up blog post in a couple of months, or not. Either way, thank you letting me have a blog vomit to you and I hope things get better for any fellow BDD sufferers out there.
Remember, all you have to do is try. It's enough.
According to the NHS website, Body Dysmorphic Disorder (also known as BDD) affects 1 in every 100 people in the UK alone. It's an anxiety based condition, and my own likely stemmed from social anxiety and a low period in my teenage years. Now, I'm not a doctor nor am I trained in the medical field. I can just about put a plaster on a cut. So how much insight I can offer into the condition itself is based solely on my own experience. I have yet to seek medical help, although I did have a batch of therapy late last Autumn that was initially meant for discussing my health but happened to stumble onto this topic a whole bunch. Turns out, I kind of suck at discussing things that affect me to strangers. Or friends. Or the boyfriend. My issue is, I feel like I will annoy them by burdening them with such information, which is beyond idiotic as I'd likely be offended if they felt they couldn't come to me with their own worries or problems. Anne's brain, ladies and folks.
For this to make an ounce of sense, we'll have to start at the beginning. I had just turned 12 when I started to dislike my appearance. I would look in the mirror and hate the girl staring back at me, I often still do that. You can't say I'm not a young lady of habit, heh. Yes, I mask my awkwardness with humour. I was chubbier than most girls my age back then, due to various reasons that really don't matter in this blog post. One could argue that it was just that stage of chubbiness that most girls go through,, hormones and physical changes playing a big part in it. I was a young developer. I had lumps of fat on my chest before anyone I knew, and my hips swelled outward. It was just a part of growing up, but I couldn't see past my own reflection to realise that. Or listen to what my mother was yammering on in my ear.
The following year was what I'd call my turning point. For the better? Probably not. But it was the year that moulded me into the person I am today. Home life changed a whole lot and because of that I gained a hefty amount of free time, which I chose to use by becoming obsessed with that reflection I keep referring to. I became aware of what a calorie was, and discovered the likes of Wii Fit and stomach crunches. I lost just under 2 stone in a matter of months. It was unhealthy and I don't want to properly delve into what I put my body through as I don't want to give impressionable readers any ridiculous ideas (you never know with the Internet.), but it was an obsession. I've already used that term to describe the situation and I usually hate repeating myself, but there isn't another word that does it justice. My work outs went from 30 minutes to over 7 hours. I would find myself pulling an all nighter to continue working out when the other people in the household were asleep. I pushed myself above and beyond, all while restricting myself to a mere third of one's usual calorie intake when on a diet. It was.. messy. I was a mess. I don't want to label myself as having an eating disorder, as I find it too big of a word to put on what I went through. So many other girls in the world have it far, far, far worse and my story isn't as important as theirs. So I don't feel like I have a right to include myself on that list, if that makes any sense. Therefore, I will just say that I was a troubled teen. I thought that being thin would result in being happy. Alas, it did not.
Because of all this, I grew up to find it ridiculously hard to eat in front of people. I found it difficult to talk about food with people I didn't know extremely well. I still do, and I still find it difficult to stop working out after 15 minutes, despite the fact that I know it will cause me a great deal of pain. Oh, yes. Fibromyalgia. I ought to probably explain that little dent in my story. It is what doctors describe as a 'chronic pain condition' that affects people in a various ways. I, myself, get widespread pain and skin sensitivity after prolonged activity or stress, followed by fatigue, migraines, and patches of insomnia. I was officially diagnosed shortly after I turned seventeen, but the signs had been there from when I was 13 years old. Yeah, the strain that I put on my body could of brought forth the condition sooner than it would have if I had not, but that is something we can never know for certain. It's just a thing. It's there and I'm still in the process of easing it. But anywho, this is besides the point.. Exercise was my escape, and I lost that the second pain became it's following act. This is undoubtedly the main reason why I have such an unhealthy relationship with food. It's my only source of control. I can't choose when to work up a sweat any more, nor can I choose where my life is leading.. But food? I can choose what goes in my mouth and I get the choice of how much gets eaten. It's terrible to write such a thing, but I can't hide from the abundant truth. I lack a sense of leadership in my own life, so my mind naturally takes advantage of it when I find some.
This is the part of the story where facts get blurred and the timeline gets muddled. All I know is, I never felt like I lost a pound in spite of those years. I'm 19 years old as I write this, and I still don't. I wake up everyday and feel embarrassed when I look into that shiny thing we call a mirror. That may be too honest, but that's the point of writing this. Honesty. I often feel sickened when I'm getting dressed and I can feel the skin of my body being tugged and squishing together, when I walk and can feel the way my thighs and stomach wobble and I'm adamant others can see it through the layers that I'm wearing. It hit me the hardest around a week ago, when I was shopping for clothes and tried on three items that were all a size 8 (that's an American size 4 and a European size 36, just FYI), and they were all loose on me, to the point of being unwearable. Loose. A size 8. I didn't and still don't understand. When I looked into that changing room mirror, my body looked at least three sizes larger than that. Not that there is anything wrong with that size, or any size for that matter, so please don't take my words the wrong way. It's just a difficult one to explain. It's hard to voice your thoughts when you never have done before. When I was that 12 year old girl, I envisioned myself being a certain size and being happy because of it, that I would feel confident in my skin if I were what society classes as "small". But I'm not. I can't see it and keep making excuses as to why a shop would make those size 8's in my size. Bad manufacturing, perhaps. And the second store's clothing was meant to be real baggy, that's why it was a little big on me. My brain constantly does this and perhaps because of these pathetic excuses, I can't see what ought to be right in front of me.
I'm now truly scared that I will never feel comfortable in my own skin.
Christ almighty, that was a tough sentence to write. I would normally distract from it with a photo of a cat, but that wouldn't be very professional given the nature of this post.
It may seem silly to some of you that a lack of confidence could be such a burden on someone's daily life. It may even seem conceded. I might agree if this was just about me, but it isn't. There are so many people outside of my story who suffer a great deal with BDD, and I would hate for them to feel big-headed for simply being unhappy. BDD is real and I'm slightly proud of myself for finally seeing that - there was a time that I never thought it to be possible.
Like many conditions, there are good and bad days. Some days I feel brave enough to take a selfie, and only feel like crap for a few hours afterwards. I may even be strong enough to snap a shot of whatever I'm eating and send it to a friend. On the bad days, I don't want to get out of bed. The thought of leaving the house for work or shopping is horrendous, and all I want to do is curl in a ball and cry. Some days I can barely look in the mirror, while the next I want to stare into it every 5 minutes and point out everything that is wrong with me. I can wear a dress and feel okay in it, only to try it on a few days later and weep at the disgusting sight. Same goes for photos. That selfie I took on a good day could be hideous to me hours later, because the many flaws of my face have somehow become louder to my mind. It's waves. Waves of emotions and thoughts. You can't know how you're going to be tomorrow, let alone in a week's time. And as easy as it seems to trust a loved one's opinion on the matter, your brain argues that you can't. Your opinion is the only one that matters to you, because you're the object of argument.
My goal this year was to post more outfit related posts on this blog as fashion is a passion of mine. I adore a good tea dress and have more heels than I could possibly (or hope to) wear. I find nothing more satisfying than a good blazer, and have a major weak spot when it comes to collars. Yet I've been too chicken to post anything resembling a OOTD on here because my body wasn't "ready" yet. 5 weeks ago I posted the first photo below on my Instagram (RootingBranches, btw), and guess what? The world didn't end. Despite the fact various people could see my arms, and I was dressed as an elf (which was arguably the best part of the photo). I'm not going to lie, I've debated deleting the post every single day that it's been up - even this morning. But I didn't and haven't. Powering through, people. So to test the waters further, I uploaded another outfit photo on the 14th of this month. 4 days ago. Which is also pictured below. And guess what? The world, once again, didn't end.
My story is what it is. It's messy, but tidier than most people's. Some days I manage, and others I find myself struggling through. But it's me. It's my tale to tell, and you have your own. If you relate to me in the slightest, then I'm ever so sorry that you have to go through the difficulty that is BDD. It's painful and affects your daily life in a way most won't or rather, can't, understand. It's easier to say than do, but you have to learn to accept that a rare few will belittle you for feeling the way you do as they deem it ridiculous or stupid, and there will be some people who look at you strangely in the street for whatever reason. Loved ones who don't know of the battle going on it your mind might make passing thoughtless comments that hurt your feelings. They won't remember what they said in an hours time, but you will cry at night repeating it over and over in your head. It's raw and aches in that way sadness does, but you can get through it. As - this the part you need to jot down - there will also be people in this world who find you beautiful. Who desire your body, or long to have your legs (or waist, or neck, or whatever.). You may scoff just reading this, and I can't ridicule you for that as it would be ridiculous to do so when I, myself, don't believe any compliment that's thrown my way. But you have to try. Just as I am trying by writing this post. How else are we going to get through it all?
I could write more. I could of probably written less. There are still gaps in my story, but they are for another time. For now, I think I'm going to leave it here. At the end of this post I'm going to list some options for you if you want to reach out for help. But I'm not going to preach about it, as it would be awfully hypocritical of me. Just talk to someone. Professional or not. My email is rootingbranches@outlook.com and you are more than welcome to shoot a message my way. My other links are on the sidebar. Just think about it.
If you know of someone going through this, just do one thing for me.. don't brush their feeling aside as you think it's untrue and can see their beauty. To them, tit's frighteningly real. There is no worse feeling than when you pour your heart out to someone as you feel horrendous, and they reply with a simple "But you're beautiful." or "To me you're beautiful.". They won't believe you, and will be reluctant to come back to you at the risk of you thinking they're being dumb. Listen to them. Ask questions. Don't walk on egg shells. You were given a voice, use it.
Where am I going to go from here? I haven't the faintest idea. I'm going through a rough patch and that is largely due to some complications in my private life that aren't necessarily blog appropriate. It'll get better, it's bound to. I just need to wait it out. I'll silently wait to feel sane again, and meanwhile try my darn hardest to stop comparing myself to others. Or rather, stop thinking that those around me are making comparisons between myself and others. Especially the boyfriend. I'm well aware it makes me look stupid, and I'm constantly scared that I'm pushing him away by feeling the way I do about myself. If you have BDD and a partner, then you will know what I mean. If not, then I won't properly delve into my thought train on this. As I would likely come out of it looking pathetic.The second thing I aim to do is work on my relationship with food, as that isn't at it's best right now. I need to find a balance.
Perhaps I will do a follow up blog post in a couple of months, or not. Either way, thank you letting me have a blog vomit to you and I hope things get better for any fellow BDD sufferers out there.
Remember, all you have to do is try. It's enough.
- Anne x
Anxiety UK - Helpline: 08444 775 774
Email: support@anixietyuk.org.uk
Mind - Information line: 0300 123 3393
Email: info@mind.org.uk
My 2015 Overview.
12/30/2015
So it's that time of year again, when us bloggers write down how our year has gone - our accomplishments and downfalls, and send our hopes for the following year into the universe. This is my first year participating in this, but I look forward to it. Okay, that's a tiny fib. I'm actually a little nervous, which is silly, I know. This is without question a personal post, but I want to start documenting my life better. It would be easy to just write about the good but we learn from the bad, and more often than not, I find the struggles in life shape us into who we are destined to be. Grand scheme and all that. So deep, I know. I digress, once again. I really need to get the hang of not rambling. So, without further adieu.. let's go.
I'm going to be blunt, this year has resembled that roller coaster ride in the third Final Destination movie for me. I wish I was exaggerating, but no. It's been a tough year, plain and simple. But it has also been a year of positive changes, which I want to leave 2015 remembering. But you are going to have to wait to hear about them, and read through the crappy parts first. You're welcome.
Losing a Loved One.
I know that you know that I know we are indeed talking about what some would call just a "pet" here. But at least 80% of you will understand what it means to lose someone who has always been there, pet or otherwise. I don't want to delve into this at this moment in time, so I'll just direct you to the blog post You Are My Sunshine which explains everything. But yes, most definitely the worst part of 2015 was losing a best friend. In a much different circumstance but similar theme, the one I treasure most lost someone he loved this year. And having to go through the motions of that while living countless miles away, was, well.. torture. His sadness was heartbreaking, knowing he was going through such pain.. there are no words. An uncle of mine also lost his second half earlier this year, and knowing the agony he was going through was.. bizarre. That may seem like an odd word to use to describe something so sad, but it's the only one I can think of. Usually we don't know when someone is in pain, people hide it behind closed doors, so to feel it in a room; watch the events unfold.. Indescribable. And yes, bizarre. I had been fortunate prior to 2015 in the sense that I had yet to lose anyone I have loved through death. Nor had I experienced the ordeal through someone else's eyes. In a way, I wish I could say that I understood what grief was before this year, to not appear sheltered and to say that I knew what to say to these people during the tough times, but to be perfectly honest, I still don't understand it. And I have learnt that that is to be expected. Nobody gets it, we just get forced to survive through it. No matter how hard. That may not make sense to anyone other than my own muddled brain. That's okay.
Love
Oy vey. Love was arguably the theme of my 2015. Both with family, friendships, and relationships. And yes, in both the good and bad sense. The first big change was letting go of my first love. We'd be apart relationship wise for a good few months, but earlier this year was when The End would of rolled onto screen and those large plush red curtains would of closed. Almost 5 years. The friendship was and is what I miss the most. I hope that will one day fade, but I doubt it. It was and is a difficult thing to gloss over. The hard thing is, I do believe we could of stayed as friends. No matter how many people bark that it's impossible. We, in a sense, grew up together. But no.. The end credits roll, even when you don't want them to. There will always be some things they didn't wrap up.
Health
Fibromyalgia is a bitch. Plain and simple. I went into this year midway through physical therapy classes, Since then I have completed over 5 months of appointments, a batch of hydrotherapy, and yet my health is still deteriorating. It's perfectly fine. This is probably the better of my low list, but I'd be lying if I said it wasn't a tad scary at times. I push myself and I can manage, but it's exhausting. Going through daily chores shouldn't be this exhausting to the body. Though, the hardest part to manage is often in the mind department. It can be mentally dehydrating. (Is that a correct term? Eh. Going with it.) I worry about how this will affect my future, and I worry that it'll keep going worse. But only time will tell. Anyhoo, yes. Not the greatest aspect of 2015.
And time for the lowest of moments....Glee ended. Okay, I'm kidding. Kind of. It was rather traumatic. Thankfully Scream Queens gave me my Lea Michele fix. Don't worry, I made it through. Is the mood lightened a bit yet? No? Okay, here's Bruno in a tie for your viewing pleasure..
Now you're smiling, aren't you? Great! Let's end on the highlights. The clock is ticking.
Blogging
How can I not start with the very thing you are reading this off of? A 2015 resolution of mine was to start a blog. I'm not going to lie, I have created many in the past but always wound up chickening out and deleting the entire thing. But I learnt a world class secret, want to know what it is? Write for you, not for the people who may or may not bother reading your posts. So simple, and yet it took me years to figure out. I'm a stress head and fret about the little things. Such as, I wasn't going to publish this post until I had taken a decent new "head shot" for my sidebar, as I've grown to detest the photo. So insignificant, and yet it was going to stop me from doing something that I wanted. Silly. I may not post often, nor do my posts have a great quality to them.. But I enjoy it. And that is all that matters. Thank you to anyone who has read anything I've written on here. My little corner of the internet always appreciates a visitor. Really, thank you. (That seems sarcastic, but it really isn't. Nor is this. Maybe my brain just reads everything sarcastically. Hm.)
Germany
My first vacation. My first time going abroad, or well, anywhere, alone. My first plane ride. The first time leaving my cat to fend for himself (He had my mother, I'm not a psychopath.). Oh, the first time leaving my mother to fend for herself. But most importantly.. the first time I did something entirely for myself. It was incredible and I wish I was vlogger so I could have something other than photos to look back on. But alas, I am not and never will be. You can read more about my trip here and here.
Friendship
Paired with that great ol' Germany paragraph up top - friendship. One woman in particular, who was not only the greatest hostess a girl could wish for, but simply a beautiful human. Esma is undoubtedly the strongest female I know, hell, strongest human. And every year she surprises me by continuing to be a wonderful friend, and offering her support when it's needed. You always need a best friend, and I can only hope that she will continue to be the Serena to my Blair and the Christina to my Meredith for many years to come. We all need a person.
NaNoWriMo
I did it! That's about all I really have to say on this one. But, hey first year and I managed to complete the word count. My chin may of been tilted a little higher than usual that day. I'll be gracious and confess that I never in a million years would of managed to keep going if it weren't for my writing buddy (and everything else buddy). He was my rock throughout, and I thoroughly enjoyed the experience. Who needs adrenaline boosts from roller coasters when you have a deadline!?
Volunteering
This was one of my resolutions for 2015. Ironically, it wasn't time or health that held me back from volunteering in 2014, or 2013 for that matter.. It was confidence. Anxiety. A whole big thing that I won't bore you with as that isn't the point of this paragraph. Hello, we're on the good part. It was at the end of August that I waddled into a local charity sop and asked for a form. One step, and things just slotted into place. To be honest, it is bloody hard to juggle with the pain and I am often forced to cut down my hours due to it. But it's freedom, you can't put a price on that. It's something so small and so simple, but carries so much weight behind it for me. Plus you are doing something helpful, so bonus! I have also done a tiny bit with a local community thing and that has been equally incredible. As I am very unlikely to be able to hold down a job at this particular moment of time (pain and juggling it with being a carer for a family member), it's like my little escape from my bubble. Whether it be via handing out leaflets at a kids party, to sorting through bags of mostly junk..
Still in the volunteer category, I accomplished one of the things on my bucket list this year. Which was very obviously dressing as an elf and prancing around a grotto. Yup. Been there, done there. Mourning my elf costume.
Rediscovering Love, Differently.
Here we are again - love. I saved the best until last. Have you ever felt so incredibly lost and inhuman, that you fear the world around you will drop from under your feet at any moment? That you aren't worthy of the beauty of it all, so why should you belong here? Taking another human's spot? It all seems fictionalised for the worst reasons and you long for the silence. Maybe you know what I mean, maybe you are jut labelling me as crazy right now.. Either way, that's okay. felt this way when this year began. I had already met this man, a friend; or that's what I tried to convince myself, this beautiful man. A heart of gold, words that could melt a coin, and a man who bore the gift of handing out laughter like it was as easy as a hug. He saved my sanity. He was the only one there and he didn't even realize it. To be honest, this post was written with the intention of documenting a year in my life. But now I'm writing, I see it, the reason for all these typed out words. A message to me, and anyone out there who is running scared from what they find unfamiliar. You see, this man, he appeared to offer me everything that I wanted, and most importantly, needed. He had it all in the palm of his hand and was offering it to me. Me! The girl who's heart still throbbed, and the girl who felt unworthy of one small compliment. How could I possibly accept it at this time in my life? I shouldn't of been happy, it was wrong on countless levels and I didn't accept his offerings for far longer than I ought to of. I guess you could say, I was scared. Scared that he would snatch his hand back after seeing my demons. He knew of them already, and yet I ran scared. Fear. Sodding fear. But you know what this silly man did? He said that it was okay, and waited. He didn't get mad, he didn't change anything.. Nothing changed between us. We continued to laugh. So.. The second time he asked, I pushed his hand aside and kissed him. Theoretically, of course. But that's how it felt. All those weeks wasted, thinking I deserved to continue to be unhappy for a wee while, for what? Even if you feel like you are the least worthy person on the planet to be offered something, big or small, if you desperately want it.. Do it. Don't make yourself unhappy. If you can change it, change it. And if you can't, I hope you find the strength to smile again.
So, yes. Love. Sweet love. My year started and ended with it, for two completely different reasons. And friendship vs. romantically. Someone somewhere can find the irony in that. I wouldn't change my current relationship for anything the world has to offer. For the first time in a good few years, I see a future. And yes, it does involve this certain gentleman but that isn't the point. He helped me want to live again. His love. Love. It's tragically beautiful.
This was a darn wordy blog post, my apologies. If you made it to the end, then.. I love you. Too much? Okay. I'll give you free chocolate. Or coffee. I'd go with the coffee. I hope your 2015 went well, or that you will at least step into 2016 with a smile on your face and hope in your heart.
My resolution post should be up soon.
Happy New Year, ya filthy animal. (Oops, wrong. I can't let go of Christmas!)
I'm going to be blunt, this year has resembled that roller coaster ride in the third Final Destination movie for me. I wish I was exaggerating, but no. It's been a tough year, plain and simple. But it has also been a year of positive changes, which I want to leave 2015 remembering. But you are going to have to wait to hear about them, and read through the crappy parts first. You're welcome.
Losing a Loved One.
I know that you know that I know we are indeed talking about what some would call just a "pet" here. But at least 80% of you will understand what it means to lose someone who has always been there, pet or otherwise. I don't want to delve into this at this moment in time, so I'll just direct you to the blog post You Are My Sunshine which explains everything. But yes, most definitely the worst part of 2015 was losing a best friend. In a much different circumstance but similar theme, the one I treasure most lost someone he loved this year. And having to go through the motions of that while living countless miles away, was, well.. torture. His sadness was heartbreaking, knowing he was going through such pain.. there are no words. An uncle of mine also lost his second half earlier this year, and knowing the agony he was going through was.. bizarre. That may seem like an odd word to use to describe something so sad, but it's the only one I can think of. Usually we don't know when someone is in pain, people hide it behind closed doors, so to feel it in a room; watch the events unfold.. Indescribable. And yes, bizarre. I had been fortunate prior to 2015 in the sense that I had yet to lose anyone I have loved through death. Nor had I experienced the ordeal through someone else's eyes. In a way, I wish I could say that I understood what grief was before this year, to not appear sheltered and to say that I knew what to say to these people during the tough times, but to be perfectly honest, I still don't understand it. And I have learnt that that is to be expected. Nobody gets it, we just get forced to survive through it. No matter how hard. That may not make sense to anyone other than my own muddled brain. That's okay.
Love
Oy vey. Love was arguably the theme of my 2015. Both with family, friendships, and relationships. And yes, in both the good and bad sense. The first big change was letting go of my first love. We'd be apart relationship wise for a good few months, but earlier this year was when The End would of rolled onto screen and those large plush red curtains would of closed. Almost 5 years. The friendship was and is what I miss the most. I hope that will one day fade, but I doubt it. It was and is a difficult thing to gloss over. The hard thing is, I do believe we could of stayed as friends. No matter how many people bark that it's impossible. We, in a sense, grew up together. But no.. The end credits roll, even when you don't want them to. There will always be some things they didn't wrap up.
Health
Fibromyalgia is a bitch. Plain and simple. I went into this year midway through physical therapy classes, Since then I have completed over 5 months of appointments, a batch of hydrotherapy, and yet my health is still deteriorating. It's perfectly fine. This is probably the better of my low list, but I'd be lying if I said it wasn't a tad scary at times. I push myself and I can manage, but it's exhausting. Going through daily chores shouldn't be this exhausting to the body. Though, the hardest part to manage is often in the mind department. It can be mentally dehydrating. (Is that a correct term? Eh. Going with it.) I worry about how this will affect my future, and I worry that it'll keep going worse. But only time will tell. Anyhoo, yes. Not the greatest aspect of 2015.
And time for the lowest of moments....Glee ended. Okay, I'm kidding. Kind of. It was rather traumatic. Thankfully Scream Queens gave me my Lea Michele fix. Don't worry, I made it through. Is the mood lightened a bit yet? No? Okay, here's Bruno in a tie for your viewing pleasure..
Now you're smiling, aren't you? Great! Let's end on the highlights. The clock is ticking.
Blogging
How can I not start with the very thing you are reading this off of? A 2015 resolution of mine was to start a blog. I'm not going to lie, I have created many in the past but always wound up chickening out and deleting the entire thing. But I learnt a world class secret, want to know what it is? Write for you, not for the people who may or may not bother reading your posts. So simple, and yet it took me years to figure out. I'm a stress head and fret about the little things. Such as, I wasn't going to publish this post until I had taken a decent new "head shot" for my sidebar, as I've grown to detest the photo. So insignificant, and yet it was going to stop me from doing something that I wanted. Silly. I may not post often, nor do my posts have a great quality to them.. But I enjoy it. And that is all that matters. Thank you to anyone who has read anything I've written on here. My little corner of the internet always appreciates a visitor. Really, thank you. (That seems sarcastic, but it really isn't. Nor is this. Maybe my brain just reads everything sarcastically. Hm.)
My first vacation. My first time going abroad, or well, anywhere, alone. My first plane ride. The first time leaving my cat to fend for himself (He had my mother, I'm not a psychopath.). Oh, the first time leaving my mother to fend for herself. But most importantly.. the first time I did something entirely for myself. It was incredible and I wish I was vlogger so I could have something other than photos to look back on. But alas, I am not and never will be. You can read more about my trip here and here.
Friendship
Paired with that great ol' Germany paragraph up top - friendship. One woman in particular, who was not only the greatest hostess a girl could wish for, but simply a beautiful human. Esma is undoubtedly the strongest female I know, hell, strongest human. And every year she surprises me by continuing to be a wonderful friend, and offering her support when it's needed. You always need a best friend, and I can only hope that she will continue to be the Serena to my Blair and the Christina to my Meredith for many years to come. We all need a person.
NaNoWriMo
I did it! That's about all I really have to say on this one. But, hey first year and I managed to complete the word count. My chin may of been tilted a little higher than usual that day. I'll be gracious and confess that I never in a million years would of managed to keep going if it weren't for my writing buddy (and everything else buddy). He was my rock throughout, and I thoroughly enjoyed the experience. Who needs adrenaline boosts from roller coasters when you have a deadline!?
Volunteering
This was one of my resolutions for 2015. Ironically, it wasn't time or health that held me back from volunteering in 2014, or 2013 for that matter.. It was confidence. Anxiety. A whole big thing that I won't bore you with as that isn't the point of this paragraph. Hello, we're on the good part. It was at the end of August that I waddled into a local charity sop and asked for a form. One step, and things just slotted into place. To be honest, it is bloody hard to juggle with the pain and I am often forced to cut down my hours due to it. But it's freedom, you can't put a price on that. It's something so small and so simple, but carries so much weight behind it for me. Plus you are doing something helpful, so bonus! I have also done a tiny bit with a local community thing and that has been equally incredible. As I am very unlikely to be able to hold down a job at this particular moment of time (pain and juggling it with being a carer for a family member), it's like my little escape from my bubble. Whether it be via handing out leaflets at a kids party, to sorting through bags of mostly junk..
Still in the volunteer category, I accomplished one of the things on my bucket list this year. Which was very obviously dressing as an elf and prancing around a grotto. Yup. Been there, done there. Mourning my elf costume.
Rediscovering Love, Differently.
Here we are again - love. I saved the best until last. Have you ever felt so incredibly lost and inhuman, that you fear the world around you will drop from under your feet at any moment? That you aren't worthy of the beauty of it all, so why should you belong here? Taking another human's spot? It all seems fictionalised for the worst reasons and you long for the silence. Maybe you know what I mean, maybe you are jut labelling me as crazy right now.. Either way, that's okay. felt this way when this year began. I had already met this man, a friend; or that's what I tried to convince myself, this beautiful man. A heart of gold, words that could melt a coin, and a man who bore the gift of handing out laughter like it was as easy as a hug. He saved my sanity. He was the only one there and he didn't even realize it. To be honest, this post was written with the intention of documenting a year in my life. But now I'm writing, I see it, the reason for all these typed out words. A message to me, and anyone out there who is running scared from what they find unfamiliar. You see, this man, he appeared to offer me everything that I wanted, and most importantly, needed. He had it all in the palm of his hand and was offering it to me. Me! The girl who's heart still throbbed, and the girl who felt unworthy of one small compliment. How could I possibly accept it at this time in my life? I shouldn't of been happy, it was wrong on countless levels and I didn't accept his offerings for far longer than I ought to of. I guess you could say, I was scared. Scared that he would snatch his hand back after seeing my demons. He knew of them already, and yet I ran scared. Fear. Sodding fear. But you know what this silly man did? He said that it was okay, and waited. He didn't get mad, he didn't change anything.. Nothing changed between us. We continued to laugh. So.. The second time he asked, I pushed his hand aside and kissed him. Theoretically, of course. But that's how it felt. All those weeks wasted, thinking I deserved to continue to be unhappy for a wee while, for what? Even if you feel like you are the least worthy person on the planet to be offered something, big or small, if you desperately want it.. Do it. Don't make yourself unhappy. If you can change it, change it. And if you can't, I hope you find the strength to smile again.
So, yes. Love. Sweet love. My year started and ended with it, for two completely different reasons. And friendship vs. romantically. Someone somewhere can find the irony in that. I wouldn't change my current relationship for anything the world has to offer. For the first time in a good few years, I see a future. And yes, it does involve this certain gentleman but that isn't the point. He helped me want to live again. His love. Love. It's tragically beautiful.
This was a darn wordy blog post, my apologies. If you made it to the end, then.. I love you. Too much? Okay. I'll give you free chocolate. Or coffee. I'd go with the coffee. I hope your 2015 went well, or that you will at least step into 2016 with a smile on your face and hope in your heart.
My resolution post should be up soon.
Happy New Year, ya filthy animal. (Oops, wrong. I can't let go of Christmas!)
- Anne x
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