Evening.

Dear Mindfuck,

Dear is too formal and Mindfuck is too informal.

Hi Brainsmush,

Is that better? Who the feck knows.

You’re probably sat at home on your sofa right now watching tv and snacking. I’m trying to get to sleep but evidently it isn’t working.

I feel like I’ve got a lot to lose. I’ve got my pride and my bravado and a hell of a lot of weight.

You have more to lose and I understand why you’re clinging onto it all.

I can’t and won’t guarantee you that this will be easy. I’ve learnt from my therapist that nothing can be guaranteed. 

She has a point.

I will not make promises that I can’t keep. With that in mind, I promise you these things:

  • I promise that I will always be grumpy before 6am.
  • I promise that I will always be allergic to cats and covered in their fur but that I will always consider getting more.
  • I promise to take note of the little things – like how your eyes seem brighter when you have no make up on.
  • I promise to be annoying and needy and ever so slightly immature.

On paper, we don’t make sense. It’s a good thing that we aren’t just fictional characters. I am not your ideal man and you are not my ideal woman and yet I feel like a nervous teenager when I see you.

I’m ready to lose my bravado.

Love, Similar Mindfuck 

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Adult life.

I thought that, at 23, I’d be married to my teenage crush and that we’d be living in our own house with little versions of us running about causing havoc.

In reality, at 23, I’m drunk texting my teenage crush at 3am to tell her that I love her. We’re friends, it’s fine, she obviously thinks it’s platonic…

I was wrong about adult life. I had visions of me effortlessly drifting through it, ticking off adult goals on the daily.

Nope.

Adult life is me eating a “funsize” bag of popcorn for breakfast in the car on the way to see my therapist.

Adult life is me updating my union membership to premium even though I don’t know what it includes and it costs £10 more a month.

Adult life is me trying to find songs I like for my goddaughter to dance to that don’t involve words like “fuck”, “pussy” and “bitch”. 

Adult life is painting pottery on my day off when I’m hungover and trying not to vomit up 5 pints of cider.

Adult life is getting excited when my Tesco vouchers come through and then spending them on Pokémon cards. Pokémon cards for me. That I collect. At 23.

Is this what life is like at 30? Does Christmas ever become dull? Will I spend my pension money on cat toys for the cats that they don’t even play with?

Is anyone actually an adult?

From the outside I think I seem fairly mature and like I’ve got my shit together. I have a responsible job and people trust me with their children. Underneath that am I just an 8 year old who wants to nap, eat pizza and play in the snow? Yes. I’m not an adult. I’m a fraud. 

#bloggoals

A lot of people start a blog with a certain goal. I definitely didn’t.

I didn’t want a certain number of followers, I didn’t want to pass on a message and I certainly didn’t want Internet fame. 

It’s a good thing that I didn’t want any of those things because none of them have happened.

Over my 4 years of irregular blogging (4 bloody years!), I’ve had successful posts and years and less successful posts and years.

I’m incredibly proud of myself for sort of maintaining this blog. It gives me an opportunity to look back and see how much I’ve grown; metaphorically and literally (I used to be a size 10 and I’m not anymore!). 

I had wanted it to be a blog about comedy as that was something I wanted to pursue. Then I lost some weight which I documented on here and since then it’s been a general blog to get my feelings out.

I’ve just got the WordPress app and that is helping me to have the incentive to plan, create and publish blogs. I’m going back to work next week but I hope that this app will allow me to post more regularly and start to post more photos again. 

In terms of where I see this blog going, I think it has a long future ahead of it. I know that there is an increasing demand for vlogs and vlogging but I honestly don’t think I’d have anything new to bring to it so I’m not sure that it is for me. I’m just going to keep posting and hope that people enjoy my content. Maybe I’ll even get back to comedy one day; then my blog name would make some sense…

“You’d love it!” Actually, I hate it.

I didn’t get into OITNB until it had been out for about a year. Everyone told me I would love it. Just because it had lesbians in it? I wasn’t about to bow to that kind of stereotypical, narrow minded way of thinking. I like shows with straight people in so THERE.

But I loved it. They were right.

And then I was told about another Netflix original, Kimmy Schmidt. Apparently I’d love it. I did.

But I think this is where that loving trend ends.

I’ve tried (and failed) numerous times to get past the third page of Little Women and I can’t. I just can’t. It bores me to death. And I know by saying that I’ve enraged people who love “classic” books but I just can’t do it.

I want graphic sex descriptions, swearing and disturbing imagery from a book. I want (and will always want) nearly anything written by Irvine Welsh. Or Sarah Kane; her plays hit the spot too.

I don’t think I’m hard to please when it comes to books and TV yet I seem to disappoint a lot of my friends when I just “don’t get” the things that they love so much.

I’ve been told to watch “Making a murderer” and, to begin with, it was interesting. But now I’m an hour in and I’m struggling. In my opinion, it’s slow moving and depressing (I don’t want to hear about a cat being set on fire, ya know?!).

So what makes some things instantly appealing and others a complete drag? Is it because of my innate stubbornness that I have that tells me that I am right and nearly everyone else is wrong? Is it that I am actually really hard to please but I just don’t know it?

One friend recently described me as “judgey”. Oh. Maybe I do need to give things a chance.

With that in mind, I’m going to plough my way through “Him and Her”, “Making a Murderer” and some stand up shows from Lee Evans. Yup. I said it, I’m not a Lee Evans lover. And I’m sorry, ok?

Evening all.

Or should that be early morning?
I’m up unusually late because I have an unusual pain in my stomach.
Like any other wise person, I turned to Google for the answer and now I’m being a typical hypochondriac and convincing myself I have every illness or infection going.
I expect I’ve pulled a muscle.
Not that I’ve done anything particularly strenuous. But then maybe it’s a subtle hint from my body to start moving more and sitting less before I find the small things taxing.
But I’m not listening, I’m just lying here in bed waiting for the ibuprofen to cut in and ease the pain that I should really be listening to.
If something seems scary, silence it.
Wise words from someone with a ridiculously low pain threshold.

Girl crushes and how they confuse me.

Not me personally, obviously. If I felt confused every time I had a thing for a girl I’ve have had a breakdown by now.
No, I’m talking about “straight” women who have girl crushes. Am I mocking straight women by using the quotation marks? No, straight women exist I’m aware of that. But what I want to challenge is if straight women can have girl crushes and still be straight.
Controversial? I hope so.
I recently read a post in which someone tried to describe why they had a girl crush on a certain celebrity. But they couldn’t find the words. It wasn’t that they liked one specific thing about this celebrity. They didn’t want to be her friend, they didn’t like her fashion sense and they weren’t jealous of her lifestyle. They just had an unexplainable feeling about her.
Yeah I’ve had that about women too. That churning in the stomach (not caused by an undercooked piece of meat), the shaky hands (not caused by some form of withdrawal) and the heart palpitations (not caused by a caffeine overdose. Speaking of which, I’m not drinking caffeine again – hurray!).
That unexplainable feeling could be attraction. Just sayin’.
And I don’t think people are against those feelings because I understand that a lot of people are open minded and that it’s possible to fall for somebody because of their personality and not their gender. I get that.
But then why the need to identify or label themselves as straight? Why not explore bisexuality or pansexuality?
And let’s say a woman likes a specific celebrity because of their looks. They like her black hair and her petite figure. What’s to say that’s the only woman with black hair and a petite figure that they’ll like? What if they like other women who look like that?
When does a girl crush/multiple girl crushes become a sexuality thing rather than an admiration thing?
And I’m not trying to recruit, I’m just puzzled.
And I get that if someone finds someone else’s hair nice it doesn’t necessarily mean they want to jump into bed with them. I think Rupert Grint is a cutie but I don’t want his kids.
I’m also confused by the whole “the difference between a straight girl and a bi girl is two drinks” theory. First of all, bisexuality is not a drunk sexuality; it is a legitimate sexuality and doesn’t deserved to be undermined. Yet I don’t understand why when some women are drunk they kiss other women? Or why some women say they’d kiss a woman/sleep with a woman if they were drunk. A friend of mine always used to say that drunk feelings were sober thoughts and I can’t help but wonder if this is the case.
I guess I haven’t really got a conclusion to this because feelings aren’t something that can be plotted and measured but I’d like to hear people’s thoughts on this. 🙂

I’m in a long term relationship. With food.

Recently I got told by a rake of a woman that everyone has an emotional connection to food. Hers must be negative because it didn’t look like she’d eaten for about a year.
The irony of it all is that I then got told I needed to lose weight by a woman at the completely opposite end of the scale as the rake. Hmmm.
Here’s the thing.
I’ve never been ridiculously skinny. Put it down to whatever you want: too much food and not enough exercise, a metabolism that’s in a coma: I could go on forever.
At the age of 17 I lost 4 stone out of sheer fear. I feared my future. I ate less but didn’t really move more. It happened in the blink of an eye (less than a year) and it changed my life. But not for the better.
It made me depressed. I thought, up until that point, that if I lost weight I would magically become happier. And in all honesty, I found the opposite was true. I had blamed some of my teenage unhappiness on my ever expanding waistline and figured I’d feel better if I was thinner. Granted, I enjoyed the weight loss compliments for the first couple of months but I couldn’t understand why I hadn’t found enlightenment.
The simple answer is that it wasn’t the food that was making me feel rubbish, it was just life. And that’s a massively upsetting thing to realise so young.
So now here we are almost 5 years later and I’m the fattest I have ever been. Lovely.
It’s not an option to not lose weight, I need to as I have an operation lined up and my blood pressure (which is ridiculously high because of my weight) needs to come down considerably.
And despite what the not rake said (“It’s hard, isn’t it?”), I don’t find it hard to lose weight. I find it hard to think that I might sink back into that low place.
So yes, everyone has an emotional connection to food. The rake is right. It looks like Skinny Wagg is back on. Happy Wagg will have to be put on hold.