Why I'm Done With Disclaimers

*At this point I would usually go with "Beware, this is a long read"  But I am done with disclaimers.  Read or don't read.  It is up to you.

Go to any article about women, feminism; crimes against women; tv shows or films with female leads and you will run into trolls or MRAs.  Usually both.  

After a few years of engaging and getting angry myself (I know I should avoid the comment sections but I cannot help myself), I have tried a change of tactic.  Amusement. I laugh as the insults get worse, the comments become more and more "But women bad, men good!". 

Recently I made a comment on Facebook on an article from the Guardian about who should be the next James Bond.  There was a spoof piece written in the Guardian entitled "Forget Idris Elba, It's Time for a Lesbian Bond  Clearly a satire piece and one that I found funny.  

Whilst some took it in the humour it was intended, there was the inevitable backlash of PC gone mad, feminazis at it again, don't fuck with Bond bitches!  

I commented "Jesus people, it is satire.  Don't worry.  Your Bond will remain the misogynistic asshole he has always been".  I wasn't actually intending to provoke a reaction, that thought went straight from head to keyboard.  But, all hell broke lose.

Long story short, I ended up deciding to have fun with it and play a game of troll bingo.  In 89 comments on my little sentence, I had points on the board for triggered, feminazi, overweight, lonely, cat lady, man hater and my favourite. obnoxiously mouthy.

via GIPHY

That is the funny side of the comment section.

Then, and this is the point of my blog post today, you find the #notallmen crowd.  The #whataboutmen crowd.  The "I'm going to ignore this horrible crime that happened to this woman, but look at what happened to this man one time five years ago" crowd.  The "you didn't mention men in this article/post/quote so therefore you are a misandrist" crowd.  The "feminist doesn't mean equality, look what this woman said 15 years ago" crowd.

A woman was raped "Men get raped too you know and false rape accusations are rampant".  A woman was beaten by her partner "Not all men".  A woman was murdered "women kill men too".

Hell, you can't even win a gold medal without your husband being given all of the credit.  You might not even have your name used, you are just called someone's wife

Time and time again you see the entire comments section filled with arguments that have nothing to do with the article, filled instead with "yes I know bad things happen to men too" conversations.  Those of us who dare to question the diverting tactics are immediately labelled man haters.

Now it is all over social media.  You cannot say anything about being a woman, inspiring women or anything that happens to women without being told that you should have mentioned a man.  Proof?

On Saturday night, after another "you got nothing to be vain about bitch" comment on a selfie, I posted:

"A woman having confidence is not the worst thing in the world.  You know what is? The people who tell her she shouldn't have any"

Nothing wrong with that as far as I can tell.  Nothing derogatory against anyone, other than the people who do that.  Something uplifting for women to remember.

However.  I received a message, that I did not understand, telling me in a series that I was trolling men and I was a man hater.  This did not come from a troll or the usual MRA fuckwit.  This was a regular (I thought) person.

I read and reread my tweet, looking for answers.  I asked why they thought the above, only for them to resend my message back to me, asking me to reread it.  I was completely oblivious as to why my tweet came across as anti men.

Today, I read my tweet again, together with the conversation that followed.  It dawned.  Dawned in a way that made me want to smack my head against a wall.  The reason they had a problem with my message was that it did not include that men should have confidence too.

I am done with this shit.  I am done with this whiny want of inclusion of men in every single thing about women.  We are seemingly not allowed to say anything about ourselves, without first acknowledging that some man, somewhere, has experienced it too.  

If you cannot get through a tweet, an article, a comment about women without crying "what about men"; I cannot be arsed with you any longer.  I will no longer engage.  You are not worthy of my time, in the comments sections or on social media.

Women are not required to mention you in every section of their lives. We do not need to pander to your insecurities any longer.  If your response to an article about a woman being raped is "Men are raped too" you are a pathetic excuse of a human being.  

If you cannot read a comment about a woman having confidence without thinking "Why didn't she mention men having confidence" I can't help you.  Reassess your fucking priorities.   I'm done.

I'm out.  

Just Keep Swimming

I am looking at you, the vast white blank space that is my new draft post.  You entice, making me want to fill you up with words, my thoughts on display, my feelings on show.

(Jesus, that sounded a lot more filthy than I meant it to come out.  But hey, the intention here is to get me writing again, so I will allow it, this once)

I can see the words that I want to type, dancing just behind this vast white screen.  The many topics I want to speak about, suddenly disappear the moment I open my laptop.

It used to be so easy.  I used to post 2, 3, 4 times a week sometimes.  With ease.  I could bang out an opinion piece in a few hours, the thoughts formulating in my head as I went through my day, pouring out of me when I got to my laptop at night.  

Do I have less opinions these days?  Hell no.  Probably more.  Am I less passionate than I used to be?  Definately not.  But the words, they still do not come.  Irritatingly, if I am given a subject, a starting point; I am fine.  The words flow easily like they did before.

Ironically. this post that I am writing to you now is flowing.  The words are here, within my grasp.  The thoughts come together.  This means that I still have it in me, but the dots are not connecting.  Is this writer's block?

I think what I am lacking is focus.  My work life is insane at the moment, my head is still coming out of the loss of my step dad and my beautiful little dog child, Ellie.  My anxiety has spiralled and I feel like I am constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. It has been a really shitty couple of years, but I feel ready, more than ready to clear the head space and become me once more.

I re-read a post that I wrote for the Huffington Post in 2014 this week. Mirror, Mirror On the Wall and it made me remember the love that I had for writing.  The passion that I felt about body confidence, about reminding people that we are more than just our bodies; that is ok to look at yourself in the mirror and like your reflection.

I have tried everything to reignite my writing bug.  It is still there, in force, but still under the surface where I cannot yet reach.  I need my focus back.  I need to clear my head of what has gone on before and just write.  I need the Twitter me to expand and jump on to my blog page.

via GIPHY

I think that I am just doing to channel Dory.  Instead of keeping swimming, I am just going to keep writing.  Not focus on a subject, just write.  Lord knows what you will be reading, but I feel that it is the only way to bring myself back.

I will try and throw some interesting pieces in between the journey of self reflection.  But I ask that you bear with me in the transition.  It is time for the gobby opinion to make a return to The Curved Opinion.

Work Handbags

One universal truth is that the bigger the handbag you buy, the more you will find that you absolutely have to have in it.

I remember in the late 90s (yes, that shows my age) going on a night out with nothing more than a purse that held my money and a lipstick.  These days, that list has expanded somewhat.  Phone, purse, lipstick, eyeliner, concealer, pressed powder, face brush, mini brush... Ah, to have my 1990s face complexion!

When it comes to handbags for work however, my tastes have never changed.  I need something that will go with every outfit (a different coloured dress every day could pose a challenge), something to hold the never ending list of things I absolutely need (read not really) to take with me, something that is aesthetically pleasing and timeless.

I am currently looking for an new work handbag so thought that I would show you some the bags currently in contention.

Asos £59.00 

You really cannot go wrong with a black crocodile skin (fake obviously!) handbag.  This is the first handbag I spotted on my search and is high on the list of contenders/

Carvela Winged Tote Bag £49.00

This bag would go with every and I love the simple gold detailing to it.

DunedinCashmere £69.99

This is the most professional looking of the bags I have been looking at.  It would go great with a suit for those days I want to look a little more professional.

John Lewis £33.00

I love the styling of this bag, although on a practical side it is only something that I could use in the Summer months and is cream a good idea when dragging around on the bus every day?

Vivienne Westwood £400.00

Ok, ok, I admit it.  This bag is not in contention.  I cannot afford a £400 bag for work.  But I LOVE it.  I adore everything Vivienne Westwood and I have a major style crash for this bag.  Sadly, it is not meant to be, but at least I can look at the picture.  Sob!

Going through all of the above, I think that the Asos bag is my best bet.  What do you think?

A Midnight Crisis of Confidence

You will have to forgive me.  This is a 12am post.  So not thought out, not rewritten or checked for confused sentences.  Just me.  Talking.  Panicking a little.

I have been very lazy of late when it comes to talking about body confidence on this blog.  That is something I am not happy about, because it is SO important to me.

As a fat woman, I have had a great year in terms of body confidence.  In truth, there has been so much going on in my life that it hasn't crossed my mind that much. Proof of just how far I have come.

Sure, I have momentary relapses, curled into myself when I have received derogatory comments, noticed the stares that were not complementary; but they have paled into insignificance with what has been going on with my life.  Mostly downs to be honest, for the past couple of years, although now, I am starting to see the sunshine again.

But, my midnight crisis confidence, 

I am a little scared.  A lot unsure.

I recently signed up for a year long thermal spa experience.  8 times a year which does wonders for relaxation.  So far, it has been with family and friends.  The spa is fabulous and although mixed sexes, I have, in the most part, felt comfortable in myself and ok with walking around in my swimsuit around others.  A good thing.

A couple of weeks ago I decided that I needed some spa time.  Just me.  Floating around in the jucazzi, staring at the stars in the ceiling in the dark relaxation swimming pool.  Perfect.  I booked my solo appointment, for tomorrow; without much of a thought, except for excitement of having a lovely couple of hours chilling out.

But, suddenly, the day has come.  The thought of walking around, on my own, in a mixed thermal spa experience in my swimsuit, terrifies me.  Do I feel any less because of who I am and what I look like? No. Do I take a scared breath at the thought of others looking at me, with judgemental eyes (as is inevitable at a spa from both sexes); yes.  A lot.

My safety blanket of a friend being there is not there.  I did not realise until tonight just how much I relied on someone else being there.  Someone to talk to when you see a judgemental stare, a derogatory glance.  I will exposed.  Nowhere to hide my insecurity.

So will I be the fat woman alone in the spa, hiding in the dark relaxation pool for cover, or will I be the woman who doesn't care, sitting in the jacuzzi actually enjoying some me time.  I don't know yet.

This is a far bigger step than I ever realised.  All safety nets gone.  Exposed.  Alone,  In one way I am excited.  Confident that I can meet this challenge ahead.  In another, I am so scared.

I am not the person that is able to talk easily with strangers.  I am odd.  I am going to be the fat woman alone in her swimsuit.  Experience tells me that this is not going to be easy. But I am more than just my body.  

So send me your steely looks.  Your don't give a fuck attitude.  Your "yes I am fat woman in a swimsuit" confidence.  

My screw you confidence may be waning today, but my stubborn "I will not hide" attitude is still full throttle. 

I am scared, as hell actually now I think about it, but I will do this.

My Voice Doesn't Matter

The first thing I have to say is that my voice does not matter.

I have watched, heartbroken, at the murders, because that is what happened, of Alton Sterling and Philando Castile.

Two men, two days, two needless and unlawful murders.  Because again, that is what happened.  But these are not the only examples of police officers who have shot down innocent people for no reason.

Michael Brown.  Sandra Bland.  Freddie Gray.  Trayvon Martin.  The list literally goes on and on and on.

In 2015 police killed at least 102 unarmed black people in 2015, that is 5 times the rate of unarmed whites.  37% of the unarmed people in 2015 that were killed by police were black, despite being only 13% of the population.

As a white person, these are statistics that do not affect me.  My privilege as a white person allows me to quote these statistics to you in the knowledge that this will never happen to me.  I will never be treated this way.  

I will never be presumed automatically guilty because I am white.  I will never have to watch my boyfriend die while I film as Diamond Reynolds did, for fear that the police will kill me and my child.  I will never be shot and killed whilst not resisting arrest. 

White serial killers are bought hamburgers after killing a church full of people.  Black men are being shot and killed for traffic violations.  

As a white person, I have many privileges.  This is why my voice does not matter.  You should not be listening to me.  I am not experiencing this prejudice.  This racial profiling.  Who you should be listening to are the black men and black women who are subjected to this, day in and day out.

I feel uncomfortable writing this.  Because I am talking about things that I do not know and have never experienced.  But when I see people saying things like "All Lives Matter" and coming up with ridiculous excuses for white officers shooting black people, I have to say something.  Because it is wrong.  So fucking wrong.

As white people we are so unbelievably privileged.  In ways that many cannot seem to comprehend.  So what should we do?  Listen to the people whom this is happening to.  Learn from them.  Fight against prejudice.  Speak up.  Force change to happen.

The problem is us.  Our privilege.  We are the ones that need to change. My voice does not matter.  Listen to the people that do. 

Sorry Not Sorry

Last week I wrote a blog post called Be Kind in which I talked about how I was trying to improve myself by being kinder and more helpful to strangers.  This week's task therefore sounds a little at odds with that idea.

I am going to stop apologising.

Now, when I say I’m going to stop apologising, I don’t mean for the times when I have actually done something wrong or stepped on someone on the bus.  I’m talking about the dozens of times that I say sorry every week, simply for existing or having an opinion.

The funny thing is, this behaviour was so ingrained that I did not realise that I was even doing it.

I read an article the other day which talked about how many times a day people say they are sorry, particularly women, when there is no need to do so.  So I thought that I would run an experiment and see when and why I was saying it.

The most noticeable and numerous amount of times I said sorry over the past week, was when I was coming into a new conversation with somebody.  My very first word when I started to speak was sorry.  Using "I'm sorry" at your starting point for sentence is a little bit odd when you actually analyse it.  

You knock on a door, you hear "come in" and then you walk in and say "I'm sorry".  For what? Existing?

You are in an interesting conversation or a debate; you start your point with "I'm sorry but".  I'm sorry I have an opinion? I'm sorry I am expressing my thoughts?

What am I apologising for?  

The second noticeable time I apologised this week, actually shocked me when I realised what I was doing.   Twice this week when walking down a corridor that only had room for one person, I have seen someone at the other end, both men on these occasions, and immediately said "Oh sorry!!!" and immediately acceded to their alleged right to the corridor space.  This was not asked for, it was assumed behaviour that I did not even know I was carrying out until my experiment this week.

This was not being polite.  This wasn't the atypical British way of "You go first" "No you" "No I insist".  This was acceding to someone else who in that moment my brain was telling me that they were more worthy than I to be in control of the space.

Why do I think that I am not worthy? 

So that is my new goal for the week.  To stop unnecessarily apologising.  To realise that I am allowed to speak under my own merit.  That it is allowed.  That I am allowed to exist in the area that I am in.

I have no problem vocalising my thoughts online, so it is time that my offline life matched my online life.  Being brave enough to own that moment as my own, that space,  It is a reaffirmation that I am enough.

Be Kind

Kindness is a language that the deaf can hear and the blind can see.  Mark Twain

It has been over six months now since we made our New Years Resolutions.  The promises that we make to change things about ourselves.  Those changes are rarely made and by this point in the year, most of us have even forgotten what they were!

I do not believe in New Years Resolutions.  The gym membership that you forget about after month two.  The three books a month you promise yourself you will read, but don't.  That glass of wine on a Friday after work that you swear you will cut out (who are you kidding?).

Instead of thinking of ourselves and making promises we cannot keep, why not simply set ourselves a new challenge.  Be kinder to others.  It isn't hard to do and unlike that gym membership that is still coming out of your bank despite you not setting foot there for months; it will make you feel better.

There is a saying "treat others as you wish to be treated yourself".  I believe that the best way to be kind to others and be more selfless is to instead treat people the way you would want a beloved family member to be treated.  Pick the favourite person in your family: your mother, your grandpa; your auntie.  Think about the way you would wish a stranger to treat them, and act that way.

I have found that treating others as I would want a loved one to be treated has subtly changed the way that I interact with strangers.  For example my mum is 76 and sometimes struggles with the high bus step.  For this reason I always linger now if I have an elderly person behind me when I get off the bus, just in case they need a hand.  Because my mum would never ask for help with that, but she would appreciate it.

Visit your elderly neighbour living alone because you wouldn't want one of your grandparents to be living alone and lonely.

Ask the person upset on the street if they are ok, because you wouldn't want your sister to be upset alone.  Sometimes just a simple "Are you ok" showing you care means the world to someone when they are upset.

Carry a spare pound coin in your pocket for that occasional person who has no change in the car park. Let's face it, that has been all of us once.

All of these things take no time or effort, but can mean the world to someone else.  Go out into the world and be kinder.  It will make your heart happier.

Infograph courtesy of NRA Healthcare 

Festival Fashion Outfits

I love ankle boots.  You can wear them for so many occasions, be it Winter or Summer, casual or dressed up.  

You can throw a pair on with some jeans when you are running out to the shops, put on a chunky pair with a floaty dress (perfect for festival fashion) or wear an elegant shoe boot with a cocktail dress.

With all the amazing Summer festivals coming up, I thought that I would pick out some dresses and boots that you can wear.

Fringing and aztec print is huge for the festival fashion this year.

Boots - JD Williams £45.00

Dress - Asos £65.00

A short and fun prairie style dress with cowboy boots.  You can't go wrong.

Dress - Asos £20.00

Boots - JD Williams £45.00

I love this peep boots and a cute playsuit will look great at a festival

Boots - New Look £59.99

Playsuit - New Look £17.99

Dressed to the Max

I was recently invited to go out with a group of friends for a Saturday afternoon jaunt.  We are talking cocktails in the afternoon in the city, dinner somewhere fabulous, more cocktails in the evening. Right up my street.

But my second thought after replying hell yes is "What am I going to wear?".

A posh part of the city, later afternoon to early (or more likely late) evening; comfortable enough to deal with the hour's travel there and back; stylish enough to work as an evening outfit, casual enough not to look overdressed at 3.00pm.

My decision?  A maxi dress.  A maxi dress can and does tick all the right boxes for what I want.  Here are a few that I have been looking at.

I am loving this Braintree Dress  It just screams Summer and can be worn with either flats or heels.  I particularly love the waist detailing and at £60.00, it won't break the bank.

OK.  I admit it,  This dress is not on brief at all.  But just look at it.  This piece of gorgeousness can be found from Maiocci and it is an absolute steal at £59.40.

Another flower print dress, you know how I love them.  Although beautiful, I think this one is leaning more to the formal side than the casual.  Although I may keep this mind for any Summer weddings.  You can find it here on sale for £62.30.

You cannot go wrong with black and white and I love the Aztec feel of this dress.  It is priced at a very reasonable £34.50 and you can find it at the House of Fraser 

So, which one should I pick?

Working 9 to 5

I have a confession.  

I have an obsession about stationary; notepads in particular.  I must have around a dozen at home, all hardback and beautifully designed with thick, clean white paper within.  All unused of course, because I cannot bring myself to crack the spine or mar the paper with ink.  

When I want to actually write something down, I type it.  I am a freak, I know.

I think that it was the love for stationary and my penchant for typing everything that led me to have an office based career.  I am a 9 to 5 woman, but unlike Dolly Parton's song, I do actually love my job.

There are so many stereotypes about working in an office, some true, some not, but here are some of the tips and tricks for survival in an office environment that I have picked up over the years.

How To Get Along With Getting Along

There are so many different kinds personalities in a work place.  Some people may become your friends whilst others may drive you up the wall.  What is important to figure out is who you can trust and more importantly, who you cannot.

Stay away from the office gossip and stay out of any drama as best as you can.  There is no harm in keeping your ear to the ground, but indulging in office politics and disputes will not endear you to the management and is not conducive to a pleasant working environment.  

Get Comfortable

Most firms these days carry out Health & Safety checks in the work place, even at your desk.  Things like getting gel supports for your wrists whilst typing, having enough distance between yourself and your screen monitor and having a chair with good back support are essential.  Sedentary jobs can cause back issues later down the line so it is important to ensure that you are seated well and are fully supported.

Have Fun

Happy people make a happy office.  Arranging a social event with colleagues every few months can bolster work relationships and boost the office morale.

Don't Sweat the Small Stuff

Working in an office environment can sometimes feel like living in a fish bowl.  Small day to day issues can be magnified and disputes can arise from the silliest of things.  The best tip I can give you for this is to keep your eyes on your own job.  If Brian from accounting is turning up late every day, that is his downfall not yours.

Do you have any tips for a office happiness?

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Good Memories

Clothes, are not just clothes.  They hold memories.  Good ones, bad ones, great ones, momentous ones.  

A first kiss, a last kiss; a great night out with the girls, a New Years Eve to remember; the day that even a scathing laugh at your size could not kill the "I feel fabulous in this dress".  

Every night I go through my wardrobe (ok, two wardrobes) and choose what dress I want to wear to work the next day.  Tonight, I came across this dress.

This dress has wonderful memories for me.  It is the first dress I ever wore (in my adult years when I had a choice) that was patterned.  Had bright colours.  Was feminine and floaty and beautiful.  

Up until that point, my entire wardrobe was black.  I remember choosing to wear it for a party, terrified that everyone was going to be looking at me, the wrong way.  I took forever to get ready; changing accessories, changes cardigan; changing my hair,; changing my makeup.

I had decided to use the dress for a blog post, seen here, and you can see the joy on my face when I wore this dress.  The wonderment that I was even wearing it.  I went to the party and felt amazing.  After the initial shock of seeing me in something that was not all black, my friends loved it.

That was just over three years ago now.  Although years in time, it feels like decades.  I wish it wish.

I have changed into a different person in that time.  Someone who isn't afraid of wearing what I want.  Someone who wears a dress every day, so different from the black pants, black top girl that was invisible.  I am not invisible anymore, certainly not in the different pattern I wear every single day.

But is more than that, I no longer want to be invisible.  I want to be seen.  This is part of who I am.  I would not have it any other way.

Don't wait, like I did until you are 33 to wear the clothes you want.  To feel that you are allowed to.  To feel confident.  To say "to hell with what (some) others think".  

Clothes are not just clothes.  They are a physical manifestation of our personalities.  You have one.  Let it SHINE.

Summer Sandals - The No Budget Edition

Whilst writing my Summer Sandals Essentials Guide last week, my eyes could not help be drawn to the more expensive shoes and sandals sections.

If you decide to treat yourself to a pair of designers shoes, my tip would always be to chose something classical and not to complex.  You don't after all want to spend hundreds of pounds on a pair of shoes, only to find that they only go with one outfit!

These are my favourites sandals that I have been looking at over the past week, all of which could fit into any wardrobe whilst still eluding a sense of style of glamour.

Michael Kors £55.00

I just adore these Michael Kors Sandals.  They would be perfect to show off your summer tan and add a touch of bling to your outfit. 

Southaven - £119.00

These sandals are a classic strappy style with a manageable heel, given a cool edge with the vibrant orange colour.  These will look fantastic with a black dress, or something clashing if you are feeling adventurous.

Swedish Hasbeens £149.00

I love these shoes so much I cannot even tell you.  They aren't particularly stylish or up to the minute fashionable, but anyone who has ever loved the Mary Jane combined with a 50s sense of style will love these shoes as much as I.

J Crew - £360.00

Now we are getting into the pricier end of the market.  I love the simple style of these sandals, jazzed up with the sequinned heels and strap.  You could wear these sandals with lots of different neutral tones.

Alaia £750.00

Last, but not least, the most expensive pair of sandals I am showing you today.  Classic, stylish, expensive yes, but absolutely beautiful.  These are the pair that you save for.  What is more, you could wear these shoes with any evening outfit for years to come. 

What are your favourite pair?

Living & Sleeping with Arthritis

My mum was first diagnosed with osteo arthritis around 25 years ago.

I have seen her condition progress over the years and the various treatments that she has tried during that time; right through to having partial and full knee replacements.

Over the years, I have picked up on many tips and tricks to help you live with arthritis that I thought that I would share with you today.

Acupuncture
Do not be afraid of trying out alternative therapies.  When my mum was first diagnosed, she suffered with pain in both hands and both knees.  After a course of acupuncture, the arthritis in both her hands disappeared, never to return.  You can read more about how acupuncture can help in this link

A Good Night's Sleep

Getting a good night's sleep is essential when you are suffering with pain every day.    Buying a bed that is best suited to your needs can help to alleviate pain whilst you are trying to sleep and will provide you with much needed rest to deal with the following day.  Try out an adjustable bed or one which provides massage support such as NHD Cylco Therapy which is designed to help with conditions such as arthritis.

Source: Heritage Bed

Help

Do not be afraid to ask for help when you need it.  Some days will be good, some days will be bad; but having family/friends there to offer help and support when you need it is invaluable.  Be realistic about what you can accomplish and if you realise you need help with something, ask.  

Medical Options

Do not be afraid to go to the doctors and your specialists and ask what might alleviate symptoms. My mum for example used to get the fluid drained out of her knees in a short procedure at the hospital, arranged through her consultant and this reduced her pain for some months at a time.

Surgery

When it comes to having surgery, such as a knee replacement, wait as long as you can.  Remember, a full knee replacement lasts around ten years, so the older you are when you have the surgery, the fewer operations you will have to undergo.

My  mum is now 75 and after having had arthritis for over 25 years, she now has two full knee replacements.  The horrendous pain she used to suffer is gone and she can do things now that she could not do for a decade.  She can even break into a little jog! 

You can find a e-book about Living & Sleeping with Arthritis here

Description of a Dark Day

I'm at the start of a dark day.  I can feel it.  The darkness, sweeping in, avoidable; like the tide coming in on a beach.

If you have never suffered from depression, it is hard to understand.  I am lucky.  I get these days, rather than weeks or months.  They happen now and again and they do not affect my life, much.  I am thankful for that.

Earlier in my life, I went through a couple of years experiencing the darkness of depression.  I would not wish  it on anyone.  So I am thankful.  Because I know how bad it can feel.

But, this is not the point of this post.  The point is how to explain what a dark day feels, to someone who doesn't understand depression.  How you can have been having a fantastic day and then suddenly, it hits.  The swift downward spiral.  The way the next day, I am back to myself.

So let me try and explain.  *This is only from my view point.  How I feel.  What I experience.  It is different for everyone.

A deep seated sadness overwhelms you.  There is no rhyme or reason.  You could have been having the best day in the world. and then it hits.  

Your heart hurts.  Your soul hurts.  Fot that time, you question whether you are really happy at all.  Whether your life is just a mask to cover the hurt that is overwhelming you.  You cry. A lot. 

You are scared.  That maybe this time. the pain will stick.  That you will get stuck in this world of hurt.  That you cannot escape.  

You are angry.  Because the day before, you were happy.  Maybe even an hour before.  A minute. There is no logic behind it and for a logical person like me, this infuriates you.  You want to break it down and rationalize how you are feeling.  But you cannot rationalize depression.

It is the kind of pain where you feel that nothing can save you.  Your head is a black hole and you are falling down it; desperately trying to grab hold of something to stop your descent, but nothing is there.  

You feel guilty.  So guilty.  Especially if you are normally happy.  If you have a great life.  You see so much suffering in the world and you think to yourself "Why do I feel like this?  Others have truly terrible lives." That you are somehow indulging in a first world, inconsequential thing.  Except it isn't inconsequential.

Again I say that I am lucky.  Because when I had my couple of years of this, I understood why people tried to hurt themselves.  Cut themselves in order to feel.  Because I did it myself.  I am lucky because what I did, didn't leaves scars.  Yet again though. I feel guilty.  Because if I had truly wanted to hurt myself, there would be scars.  Feeling guilty because my pain did not leave a mark, Fucked up, isn't it?

You develop mechanisms of coping.  You try to shield those around you from it.  Because you know they will never truly understand.  You tell yourself "Just get through this day and you will be ok".

So here I sit, typing away, telling you how my dark day feels.  It is late.  I am hopeful that tomorrow, the darkness will be gone.  I am riding that wave, the rise and fall of pain that makes you want to curl into a ball and block the world. 

But that is ok.  You are allowed to block out the world.  As long as, when you are ready, you come back it.

This is my explanation of my dark day.  Like I said, it is different for everyone.  But for those who do not experience it, but know those who do: you cannot help them.  But you can understand.  You can give them a hug.  Let them deal with it. the way they know how to; but watch for the signs that it is overwhelming them.

Depression does not define who I am.  It is a part of me that I deal with, but it does not rule me.  Have compassion.  Do not judge us.  That is all we ask.

The Outspoken Opinion

This is a conversation that I had with someone this week.

"You have a lot of opinions on a lot of stuff"
"Yep"
"Your Twitter feed is full of things you are spouting off about.  Don't you get tired of being an angry person?   Chill out for a while"
"I'm not an angry person at all.  But if I see something shitty, I am going to say something about it.  That is just who I am"
"So you are a social justice warrior then right?"
"Well if giving a shit about important issues makes me an SJW, then yes, that is what I am".

I thought about this conversation for a while.  Am I an angry person?  I would have to say no.  I am a happy gal.  My Twitter feed has a lot of things that I have shared that I disagree with, yes, but you know what?  Twitter takes up maybe thirty minutes of my day.  The rest, for all you know, is playing with bunnies and singing "The Hills Are Alive With The Sound of Music".  

So I decided to take a look at my feed over the last week and see what "controversial" things I had shared.  In reverse order:

• 9 women's refugees in Lancashire facing closure because of budget cuts.  Shared a petition - please sign!!
• Adam Johnson appealing his verdict.  Dude, you admitted child grooming and sexual activity with a CHILD.  Shut up.
• That 8 out of 10 most abused writers on the Guardian were women.  No surprise there.
• That body shaming is not ok.  
• That Dennis Skinner called David Cameron "dodgy Dave".  LOVED this.
• Laughed at the idea that the films that MRAs cried about were some of my favourite films.  (A woman, being the lead in a film: misandry!!!) lol
• A guy on a dating website who went full throttle psycho on me within two messages of speaking.
• That 5 horses died in the Grand National meet.  Find a ray of sunshine in that.  I dare you.

• That Missouri Republicans want Planned Parenthood to provide a list of any woman who has ever had an abortion and that the woman who is refusing, is facing jail.
• That being blocked, is not the same is being censored.  Brilliant article from Clementine Ford who rightly points out her right to block a man from her own page who says "Good job you slimey fat cunt, I really do hope you are the next one raped."  Or that she deserves to be gang raped.

So there you have it.  Ten "controversial things I have tweeted about in the last seven days.  Look at them.  All of them.  Then put them together.  

So lets summarize.  Women losing a safe place to go when they have been abused.  A paedophile,  Women being abused for saying what they think.  Calling out body shamers.  Dodgy Dave (enough said).  MRAs moaning about women being a lead in a couple of films.  A misogynist guy who messaged me (and after that message, offered me money to go out with him).  Animals dying for human entertainment.  Women losing client confidentiality because the Republicans think the rights to a woman's body belongs to a man.  (A percentage) of men thinking that losing the right to threaten to rape or kill a woman online on her own page is a loss of a freedom of speech.

You know what?  Fuck that.  I am angry.  

Mind Full, or Mindful?

I wrote a blog post on Friday about the Grand National.  Nothing new about that, I write one every year.  The new thing was that I had not written prior to that for over six weeks.  I have only written nine this year.  This is not me.

I love to write.  I have fifty different opinions on various subjects every day.  I am not short of material.  When I wrote my Grand National post it felt like coming home.  Everything was the same, the planning, the writing; the ease of putting what is rolling around in my head on to the screen.

But there is a disconnect there that I cannot deny.  I think of blog posts that I want to write and they remain in my head, unwritten.  I see so many posts from the inspiring and wonderful bloggers I read and I think "This is what I think, I could have written this, why didn't you?"

In order to unpack my feelings about why I am not actively writing any more, I have to look inside.  I have had a fucking shitty last two years.  My step dad being in and out of hospital, his fall, his subsequent nine months in hospital and then a care home; his death.  The aftermath of that.  My beloved little pooch dying.  It has been utterly shit.  Coupled with the fact that I have my sneaking depression that usually likes to creep into me when I am having a good day.

I need a head clear out.

I read something the other day that struck a chord with me.  "Humans are unhappy because we spend our time and energy thinking about things that don't exist - the past and the future" - Oli Doyle.

It really made me think about how much time my head is in the past, or thinking about the future whilst the present is just passing me by.  The past does not affect this moment I am living in right now.   Each second that passes by I will never have again.  I want to make it count.

The quote I mentioned was from a book called Mindfulness for Life.  It is a six week course that gives you a challenge each day in order to make you live in the present.  Not letting the past affect you now, not worrying about the future.  Just living.

So I am going to try this out.  Will it work?  I don't know.  But I am going to document my journey here.  Living my life in the present, not in the story of me.

Nothing so Grand About the Grand National

I want to give you some names.  

Kingfisher Creek.  Provident Spirit.  Properus.  Clonbanan Lad.  Marasonnien.  Minella Recption. Gullinbursti.  

Sound familar?  Probably not.  But these are the names of seven horses who have died this week in UK horse racing.  At Ascot, Doncaster and Aintree.  Three fatally wounded, two collapsed and died after the race and two who fell and died during the race.

From the time that Animal Aid began their record, some nine years ago, 1378 horses have died in UK horse racing.  That is 3, every single week.

Tomorrow is the Grand National.  The nation's past time.  Families get together and play bets every year.  Workplaces have sweepstakes.  There are "jokes" about who will get the one who came last, or died.  Because we know that they die in the Grand National, we watch every year as it takes place.

The course is much safer they say.  The horses would not race if they did not want to they say.  But they cannot deny that in a race which is entered by the best race horses in the country, less than half have managed to complete the course in the past 3 years.  In 2012, only 15 made it.  As for the horse wanting to race, I am sure no one has ever managed to explain to them the odds of them dying, or that they will be beat with a mandatory whip whilst trying to get around the course.

Yes you did read that right.  Riders in the Grand National are actually required to carry a whip in order to race.

I'm not going to show you photographs.  Because we have all seen what happens.  It is more a surprise when no horses die in the Grand National then when they do.  But as the jockey Ruby Walsh said a couple of years ago "You can replace a horse".  

They are not given value, they are just ever replaceable stock, without worth; especially when they are injured.   When they die, as we saw in 2011, they are merely "obstacles in the way".

So what is so grand about the Grand National exactly?  We dress it is as being the nation's past time.  The one time a year that many ever place a bet.  We talk about what people are wearing, we have "Ladies Day"; we glamorous this barbaric institution with family fun and champagne.

The interesting thing to note is that we describe ourselves as a nation of animal lovers.  We recoil in horror at places like Spain with their bullfighting, calling it inhumane and disgusting.  Yet we think nothing of the fact that we routinely kill 3 horses every single week in a sport that cares nothing for their safety.

Imagine if this was any other sport.  Like football.  Can you imagine players dribbling the ball around a dying Wayne Rooney?  Theo Walcott being carried off on a stretcher and shot because his broken leg made him useless to the sport? People cheering as only half of the players made it through the game?  People cheering as a player fell and broke his neck, because their favourite player was still in the game.

You will either place a bet tomorrow or you won't.  My words will either affect you, or they won't.  But my mission, as it has been every year on this blog, is to give you the facts, and let you make up your own mind.  

I ask you a question, are we not better than this?

My Ellie

You arrived at our home at three months old, a tiny ball of black fluff.  So small you would have fit in a pint glass.  My first memory of you is being on the phone to mum while she brought you home for the first time, telling me all about you and then saying "The little bugger just nipped me!".

You had never nipped anyone before or since, but knowing your personality as I do now, I think that it was you saying "I may be tiny, but I am the boss now!" and you really were.  We belonged to you, not the other way around.  We used to joke that you were the queen and we were your minions.  Just as you deserved.

Your favourite places were rugs.  You used to roll all over each one of them in the house, your legs flailing in the air like a little horse.  I still walk into a room and expect to see you rolling around the floor like a lunatic.

You didn't like to go for a walk, often hiding behind my legs or looking up at me with those big beautiful eyes which practically said "Mummy, don't make me".  You won the battle most of the time because who could resist you?  Certainly not me.  You loved to run for a ball however, your dancing around for it earned you one of your first nicknames, Dancing Dora.

I have had and have known many dogs in my life.  None like you. I have loved every dog and pet we have had over the years, but none took hold of my heart like you did.  You decided that love was not enough, it was adoration that you wanted; and it is what you received.  It had been a very long time since I gave someone my whole heart, but you had all of it.

You had more personality than any dog I have ever known.  You had a truly unique character and really could do everything to communicate except actually speak.

I have so many memories of you.  The way that you always have a part of you touching mum when you slept, either on the back of her chair or on the bed.  The way when you slept on the floor you slept near her slippers.

Your expression of indignation when you would see Rosie on my bed.  The way you kept moving down the hall, sitting down every few steps with an incensed glare at me and Rosie.  You practically shouted "Oi!  That's my mummy!  She is mine!".

The way you would come to my door at night.  I would open the door and then  have to follow you, with you looking back to make sure I was complying as you went to the front door or to the sitting room, because you wanted to play on the rug with me.  I cannot count how many hugs and kisses I gave you on that rug over the years.  Millions.

You used to love being sung to.  So many times I would pick you up in my arms, you would position yourself so that you were perfectly comfortable, using me like an chair arm.  I would sing to you the song that mum used to sing to me when I was a little girl "You are my sunshine".  You were.

Your name was Ellie, but to me, you were Sausage Monkey.  I am not really sure how the name came about, maybe because your body was like a little sausage and you were a monkey.  But I called you Sausage Monkey more than than I called you Ellie.  You answered to either.

You gave us such much joy, love, fun and laughter every single day and we both loved you so very very much.

When you became ill, you were so strong and a little fighter.  Your spirit radiated out of you.

For such a small dog, you have left such a massive hole in our lives and in our hearts.  A piece of mine went with you, my little girl.  You will be missed every day and you will never be replaced. A dog as unique and wonderful as you never could be.

I cannot say goodbye.  The words will not come.  Instead I will say what I always used to say to you at night.

Night night sausa monkey, momma loves you.

The Goggle Box

After seven years of faithful service, my bedroom television has finally given up on me.  The DVD player no longer works and the picture was terrible (bought before HD so not great to begin with) and so the quest is on to find some new bedroom tech.

Times have evolved greatly in terms of what you can purchase, particularly in terms of size and picture quality.  The typical 19 inch cube like televisions have moved on to larger flat screen versions and the picture quality has improved by leaps and bounds.  From ordinary SDTV we have moved to to HDTV and now, the latest innovation is 4KTV with the likes of the Panasonic Viera range.

Photo Credit

When buying a new television, it is always useful to read to the latest tech blogs and check out the best TVs that you can buy within your budget range.  There are so many different types of television that you can buy, dependent on what you are looking for and the services you want it to provide.

When it comes to buying a television for a bedroom, often, you want it to be a multi tasker.  Are you a gamer?  Are you a Netflix addict?  Will you use it in collaboration with your laptop?  Do you want to connect to the internet?

All of these options can be catered for and given that the price of technology has come down in recent years, the cost of what you want is not going to burden your purse too heavily.

For me, I am a film buff.  I love watching films, either through my Freeview or on DVD.  Netflix will be my next port of call, I can no longer resist its calling.  With this is mind I have gone for a larger television, 32 inches which is the largest that I can have within my space capacities.

HD is a must given the amount of films that I watch and I can only imagine how great some of my old favourites are going to look like on a much larger screen with much better resolution.  Avatar, Lord of the Rings, Star Trek, the Fast & the Furious series; all will be getting a dusting off and a marathon film weekend will be happening soon!