Okay car boot haul. 2x Eyeliner, Kate moss lipstick, Lancôme lipstick, vintage candle holders, picture frame, storage basket, glitter, studs, face wash and my fave purchase chunky white sandals. Overall spend about £15 #carboot
Oh my gosh! I wish we’d been more awake. The Kate Moss lipsticks are mega good. I have one that kind of smells like strawberries!
My mother once told me that trauma is like Lord of the Rings. You go through this crazy, life-altering thing that almost kills you (like say having to drop the one ring into Mount Doom), and that thing by definition cannot possibly be understood by someone who hasn’t gone through it. They can sympathize sure, but they’ll never really know, and more than likely they’ll expect you to move on from the thing fairly quickly. And they can’t be blamed, people are just like that, but that’s not how it works.
Some lucky people are like Sam. They can go straight home, get married, have a whole bunch of curly headed Hobbit babies and pick up their gardening right where they left off, content to forget the whole thing and live out their days in peace. Lots of people however, are like Frodo, and they don’t come home the same person they were when they left, and everything is more horrible and more hard then it ever was before. The old wounds sting and the ghost of the weight of the one ring still weighs heavy on their minds, and they don’t fit in at home anymore, so they get on boats go sailing away to the Undying West to look for the sort of peace that can only come from within. Frodos can’t cope, and most of us are Frodos when we start out.
But if we move past the urge to hide or lash out, my mother always told me, we can become Pippin and Merry. They never ignored what had happened to them, but they were malleable and receptive to change. They became civic leaders and great storytellers; they we able to turn all that fear and anger and grief into narratives that others could delight in and learn from, and they used the skills they had learned in battle to protect their homeland. They were fortified by what had happened to them, they wore it like armor and used it to their advantage.
It is our trauma that turns us into guardians, my mother told me, it is suffering that strengthens our skin and softens our hearts, and if we learn to live with the ghosts of what had been done to us, we just may be able to save others from the same fate.
S.T.Gibson (via sarahtaylorgibson)
ok this is so beautiful and important
The right side of my head is swollen, throbbing, waving, twitching, aching. Present. In my eyebrows, behind my ears, down the depth of my head. This is classic air press migrainey feelings that often trigger seizures, usually dissociative ones.
I am ignoring it by watching Sister Wives.
I do not understand tumblr.
Non Epileptic Attack Disorder- also known as Psychogenic Non Epileptic Seizures, dissociative seizures, pseudoseizures, and simply “non epileptic seizures”- is a disorder in which seizures occur without any clear medical cause, such as the abnormal brainwave activity which is found in epileptic…
We have, as a society, such a completely disordered, distorted perception of female bodies that the vast majority of people are incapable of recognising what “overweight” actually looks like on a woman, let alone “healthy”. As such, we’re now at a point where women are not only…
Last week I started my first ever fully, fledged Pathfinder campaign. Pathfinder is based on Dungeons and Dragons 3.5, and with a couple of changes, is essentially the same thing.
I’ve guest starred in a few games but never had the chance to create a character to last me a whole adventure. This, for the record, is one of the things I love about RPGs; not just the opportunity to immerse yourself into another world in the collective mind of you, your companions and your games master, but the chance to make a whole person to play as.
I spent a lot of time thinking up who I was going to be. In video games, I am almost always the feisty rogue, choosing dialogue options that allow me to sound as much like Starbuck from Battlestar Gallactica as possible. Essentially it allows me to channel my competitiveness and aggressiveness in a fun way!
This time I decided to come up with something new. My character is a naive and quiet 16 year old girl called Lelia who, due to a series of unfortunate events, ended up sharing her body with the opposite of her, a somewhat-demonic, no-nonsense “person” called Rin. I’m not in control of when the switches occur; I gave that power over to the games master who rolls every now and then to see who I am. Lelia tends to spend a lot of time crying, talking quietly and helping out with cute spells that tend to make bad guys befriend her or brighten up the dark with dancing lights. Rin, however, likes to set stuff on fire and berate people for not acting enough and drink shots.
So yeah, that’s all well and good, but what’s the big deal, you ask.
This week I had one of the biggest seizures for ages. Those who follow me on Twitter and know me in real life are well aware of my sudden onset of a seizure condition in November that temporarily derailed my confidence, health and life.
Late Monday night, I become absolutely filled with anger (pretty bizarre seeing as I just secured a paid job that day, huzzah!) that spilled over to Tuesday causing me to upset two friends, whilst basically being unaware of what was going on. My flatmate, Luke, and I have now decided that being crazily snappy is a bad-sign we should watch out for, as I’m normally very laid back and a happy person.
At work, I ended up having a seizure in the bathroom, whilst staring into the mirror. As I’m not epileptic, I get to be mostly conscious through my seizure episodes, joy of joys, and tend to get “locked-in”, unable to move or respond or talk.
So anyway, that was fun, but again you ask what the link is.
I have often felt that, in bad-brain-times, that I become another person. Either someone incredibly angry and irrational, or someone absolutely terrified and anxious. It’s not actually another person, I suppose it’s just a huge mood swing, but it’s so all encompassing that this is how it feels. Whilst sobbing into my flatmate’s arms yesterday, it dawned on me that my characters Lelia and Rin are essentially the two embodiments of my seizure condition; the weak, terrified anxiety and the furious, uncontrollable rage.
I’m hoping that, through development of the game, I can empower myself by empowering these two characters. I know that non-epileptic seizures (or reflex anoxic, or one of the other many terms) tend to not have any fix-all medication or cure, and a lot of it is a case of self-care and putting up with it, so perhaps I can least work through the emotional struggle of adapting to this change in my life through the wonders of the collective imagination of me and my friends.
Perhaps we should be putting the RPG campaigns in the self care section of book stores.
This is something I’ve had in mind to write for the last few weeks, but more and more things have happened making the post longer and longer in my mind.
I flicked onto my blog earlier this morning and read the last thing I wrote in Winter, when I was … destroyed? I can’t really think of a word to describe it. Reading it back upsets me, partly because I was back there only two weeks ago, and I continue to be terrified that I will be there again one day.
The important thing is that I’m out of that hole again. After you hit rock bottom, the only way is up, right? It certainly feels that way.
But the only reason why I’ve managed to crawl back out of there is thanks to my people, giving me a leg up every step of the way. I have been completely astonished by the overwhelmingly loving reaction from everyone, including from my family, my near and far friends and even absolute strangers on twitter. The phone calls, the proclamations of love, the messages of strength; every single one helped a little bit, and I was blessed with so many. My room is littered with care packages of chocolate from around the world and my phone full of text messages reminding me that I am strong and loved. More often than not, my tears are now happy tears.
It is not always easy to be a brave Hux, but I’m working on it, thanks to you. Thank you for making me me again.
Every time it happens I change. I forget who I was. Not in a literal, amnesia sense. But a few days after my seizure, I begin to realise that I’m not me, again.
The second day is usually spent so exhausted I can’t really think about anything. It’s the third day where it goes wrong.
I completely lose the ability to compartmentalise and control my emotions. The worst bit is that the things I worry about are always to do with other people’s perception of me. Is she mad that I can’t come to the party? Why hasn’t he called me cute in the last two weeks? Do they mind having to skip their plans to stay home and watch me?
The last is the worst. I feel like a useless thing. Not even a person, just a thing that has to be watched just in case it hurts itself and causes more problems. My sister pointed out that I keep using the term “babysit” to describe when people stay with me to make sure I don’t have another seizure and thoroughly injure myself. I guess I don’t think very highly of myself.
I remember that the people around me need time off to sort out their own lives. But when I feel like this all I can think of is me and I hate it.
My confidence that I so cherish is diminished so much so that I barely recognise myself. The idea of having a shower is scary because what if I have a seizure and some poor sod has to come rescue me, covered in suds and naked as the day as I was born. My bedroom is two floors up, so I try and take everything I need downstairs for the day in the morning so I don’t have to move about too much. A seizure on the stairs could be truly dangerous.
Going outside is even worse. The outside world is full of people who could knock into me, flashing lights, loud noises. People as a collective entity start to scare me, because what if I seizure in front of them? Will they think I’m crazy or drunk? Will they help? I had a seizure outside once, but that was in the arms of my boyfriend. What if I’m alone?
The times before my seizures tend to be when I’m really happy and healthy and are not plagued by terrible thoughts. It’s the after-times. It’s the now, and they sit in my head like an itch that won’t go. A horrible primal feeling that someone thinks I’m awful combined with an aching loneliness that won’t shift. The two mean I’m constantly battling a desire for comfort and reassurance when I know I need to be able to look after myself.
But sometimes, like now, I just want to give in to that feeling, be held and be told everything is okay.
So guys, seeing as you put me through this TOILET of a book, 50 Shades of Grey, I realised that hell, I’m barely literate, maybe I COULD WRITE ONE OF THESE. Luke and I had a joke conversation and this is what we came up with.
Whiny, physically non-descript girl is experiencing change in her life. Let’s go for moves to a new town. Let’s make it… London. Yup, London. She’s clumsy, she’s a socially awkward penguin, if you will. Let’s call her - let’s think, Bella, Anastasia…. - Catriana Swanson (i don’t know if that’s a name, who cares, he can call her Kitty if he wants).
She is taken out by her kerazzzyyyy new housemate to a fancy do. Let’s say it’s a meet and greet that lawyers go to. Obviously I don’t need to know if this sort of thing happens. Let’s make it a charity ball.
In this charity ball, she meets a strange, aloof man, who is incredibly handsome. She needs to fixate upon something, so let’s go for his strong chin and Roman nose (sexy hey). There’s just something about this guy. She can’t stop staring at him. They talk, she swoons. Let’s call him - Edward, Christian - Victor. Victor…. hmm can’t think of a good surname right now. Let’s go for Victor Buckley.
Later in completely unrelated circumstances she has an ALMOST SERIOUS accident, only to be saved at last minute by mystery Victor. It’s so surprising that he’s there, except it’s not because he’s probably been trawling her as the others do because he’s SO ADDICTED to her. He takes care of her, they have coffee, he is MYSTERIOUS and ALOOF but things get steamy and he talks about how delicious she looks and how beautiful she is and how supple her limbs are.
They go home and have really hot passionate sex (though it doesn’t have to be really hot or passionate or well written because I’m writing for the unwashed masses). He then tells her she NEEDS TO KEEP AWAY FROM HIM because he’s so DANGEROUS and could HURT HER. SO MUCH FORESHADOWING. She’s all swoon I want to love you forever.
This similar pattern continues.
And then she finds the dungeon. No not a sex dungeon. Like, a hidden room. With chains on the walls. And a meat cleaver. And a freezer.
YES THAT’S RIGHT YOU GUYS HE’S A CANNIBAL
But she’s going to stay with him because she thinks she can change him or save him and he wants to protect her and love her.
In the second book he goes abroad to hide because someone’s noticed that someone he knew is missing so we get to spend a whole half book with her crying about how much she misses him, then he’ll come back and apologise and it’ll all be SO TENSE.
In the third book he suggests they elope and she gets all excited, except that one night he suggests some kinky sex and ties her up then HE SLICES HER UP. THAT’S RIGHT GUYS, HE’S GOING TO EAT HER. IN THE BOOK. YOU. READER. HE’S EATING YOU.
The end. Money now?
DO NOT READ THIS UNLESS YOU HAVE SEEN THE FILM I AM NOT BEING RESPONSIBLE FOR SPOILERS
SO YOU’VE SEEN IT. GOOD.
Things I thought about when I watched the new Batman, in no particular order other than how I remembered them once I’d gotten home:
- Ahahahah oh god is that really his voice?
- Why are foreign people always evil?
- Since when did Nathan leave the Uncharted series to become Bane’s side kick
- TAAADAAAAA IT’S A BOMB NOW
- Wait I thought it was just unstable so would degrade and blow up at some point, nothing to do with the timer what why is everyone panicking about 45 minutes time
- Why the fuck is Qui Gon Jin back if he is alive I’m going to nut someone
- There was definitely a LUKE I AM YOUR FATHER MOMENT between Batman and Bane
- Seriously why did they think that would be a good voice for Bane?
- I love that Catwoman’s goggles are her ears someone get me some
- Oh I see why the bike you lean forward on is given to Catwoman. WONDERFULLY GRATIUITOUS ASS SHOT.
- What does Bane’s facial wear actually do?
- OH BANE PLEASE STOP TALKING I’M DYING HERE
- HOW THE FUCK DID HE GET BACK HERE? NO REALLY. IGNORING THAT HE’S BROKE HOW DID HE GET ACROSS THE BRIDGES??
- Nolan really likes blowing up the bridges
- OH ALFRED DON’T BE CRY
- This is strange, I don’t hate Anne Hathaway in this