My Cat Has Acne. And other stories.

I once asked the people of Facebook what “love” was for an article I was writing. My boyfriend at the time wouldn’t even answer the question which did not bode well for the future of our relationship. I mean, neither did the cheating, but still. I didn’t know what love was then and I think I do now. Love is not having to define a word because the word defines you. It envelopes your entire life and can be found in the simplest of interactions. It is everywhere. In the sneaky face lick of a dog while you fasten your shoes in the morning to the agonising claws of a cat sending knife wounds of pain through your arms. It’s in the call of your name and a middle finger when you turn around. It’s in endless patience when you are anxious and snappy and frustrated and a pain in the arse. It’s in cleaning the house because they are exhausted. It’s in cooking delicious meals because they need cheering up. It’s in cancelling plans to snuggle up on the sofa and recharge, rest, recuperate. It’s in ...

I had a lie in today. For the first time in months, I turned my 6.30am alarm off last night and I made the decision with myself to sleep for as long as I needed. Guess what time I woke up? Yep. Bang on 6.30am. But I went back to sleep and awaited my darling husband waking me up at 7.45am when he came home from work. Cheers babes. And I thought, no… I am having my lie in. Less than ten minutes later, Macho Meow pulled my radio off the bedside cabinet, knocking a full pint of water onto me and the bed. By 8am, I gave up on the lie in, but at least I had tried. This was an act of self-care. For months, I have felt as though I am coming down with something and haven’t given myself any time to slow down and focus on looking after myself properly. Because when we get ill or stressed or overwhelmed with life, the first thing we do is to stop looking after ourselves. I’ve dedicated today to self-care. Smiley and I went on a delightful walk this morning (that ended with me having to wade thro...

In 2017, Hubs was in a job that didn’t make him happy. I’m not going to go into the details of his story as it is not my story to tell. In brief, he reached out for help and was let down by the support on offer externally. In the mean time, we were in the process of buying a house which had been delayed for months (we were meant to move in June and were still waiting for the keys in November). So, this far into the story, we’ve got shitty job + lack of external support + buying a fucking house. Tough gig. We moved in November (by which time I had ceased contact with significant people in my life) and in January, Hubs left the shitty job. I remained positive. I had started a new job in education and was still working part time locally. We could manage, for a short time, on my salary. Less than a week later, my part time hours were cut, without discussion, and I began to panic that we would lose our home. In the meantime, Hubs was physically ill and the impact of this on his ability to...

She needs me to pull my shit together.  Today is a struggling to leave the house kind of day. I don’t know why. I only know that I have been attempting to go out since around 10am and it’s just not happening. Poor Smiley is laid under the table, gazing at me beseechingly to go for walkies and all I can think is that I should have got a Chihuahua. Something smaller. A dog that doesn’t need long walks and can just be carried around. A cat. I’ll do it, I’ll go outside, because she deserves it. Because I deserve it. I just can’t do it right now. Instead of going out with doggo to do things that I do actually need to do in town today, I have procrastinated all day. I knew it was going to be a bad day when I put the TV on at 9.30am and watched two episodes of Jeremy Kyle back to back on ITV Hub. Well, three. But one of them was an uplifting stories episode and fuck that. I put on one of the terrible people episodes instead. So I have to go back to when my therapist taught me about...

This post has taken me a long time to write. It’s been floating around in my head for months, along with 8,462 other things, and it has taken a week and a half to get this down on paper. And edit. Delete. Edit. Start again… Approximately 496 times. I never realised that I had anxiety because I was surrounded by delightful people who told me that I was a psychopath, hateable, unlikable. I’m not anymore (surrounded by those delightful people that is, I am still a little bit of a psychopath at certain times of the month. Ahem.), though this doesn’t mean that from time to time, something doesn’t rear its ugly head and trigger all of those left over issues. Anxiety affects different people in many, many different ways. After an incident recently where in my peak anxiety, somebody tried to touch me and I shouted at them, I decided to try and verbalise how my anxiety affects me. And to ensure that people recognise that by the time I scream, “don’t fucking touch me”, you’ve missed ALL ...

Four months. From Michelin Man to Starry Eyed Surprise. In light of reaching an extraordinary four months alcohol free, here is a list of ACTUAL things people have said to me about my journey. Please, I am begging you; do not say these things to people (especially women) who have made the incredible decision to stop drinking alcohol. This experience has been difficult enough at times without you adding to it with your insensitivity around a topic you clearly don’t understand. It astonishes me that alcohol is so ingrained in our society that people assume there is a medical reason for not drinking. And yes, I know I’m verging on sanctimonious twat but some of these comments are so horrifically hurtful and the damage from them lasts long after an interaction. Think before you judge, you have no idea what battles someone is fighting and how close they are to falling over the edge. Be nice. You don’t have to understand, just don’t be a dick. 1. “Are you pregnant?” This of course doesn’...

In education, the first week of September is the pinnacle of the educational year. I jest of course, none of us have any idea what we’re doing. A majority of staff have had most of the Summer off. They’ve all forgotten about that colleague who eats with their mouth open. Or they’ve just forgotten how to do their job. Or even what they do. Or where they are. Let me explain how much this week has taken out of me by telling you about my Friday. · Repeatedly woken up in the night by Hubs because I keep punching him in the face. · 5.30am alarm to drive the Nobber to work. · Forget to feed dog before walk. · Throw the Wubba (aka favourite toy) behind me over my head and lose it in a hedge. · Spend thirty minutes in said hedge trying to find the bastard thing while Smiley whines at me and paces up and down looking for it. Look how sad I make her... · Lose the treat bag further down the walk. · Turn around to try and ...