A Question Of Trick Or Treat

‘In light of Samhain approaching and the Autumn knocking on our doors, questions of tradition have been raised. I was having a nosey about on my local discussion Facebook page when a mother asked for people’s opinions on Trick or Treating. I, like many of my local townspeople, had to share my opinion on the matter. The seven year old girl wanted to go, but her mother felt as though it was an act of begging or just being a nuisance to others. Lots of people happened to share the view in wanting to get rid of such a tradition, while a lot of people also chose to stand by it.’

This Samhain was certainly an interesting one. The opening paragraph is from my latest article in the Pendle Craft Magazine. I urge you all to read it, I have had a lot of fun so far writing for it and I can’t wait to write of the Yule edition. I am the writer of Student and Youth Pagan affairs… which sounds great. You may think that I have neglected my blogging duties and, I must confess, I have. I have been so busy with all kind of things,  that I haven’t had a chance to write. But now that I have a moment, I can tell you.

First of all, it was my boyfriends 21st birthday. I had all kind of surprises planned for him, to his dissatisfaction, of course. Watching his confusion and, at times, sadness made me feel sad too. It was his birthday and I only wanted him to be happy but I knew that keeping everything on the down low would make him to much happier in the long run. I made a vlog of the run up to his birthday weekend, and beyond as a present to him. It took a lot of effort to put together! I’m not very good with a video camera and I’m usually very shy when it comes to things like that so, it really did take a lot for me and I feel like an idiot when I watch it back, but it’s for him. It’s all for him.

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The second thing was my birthday, which was days after his. Mine wasn’t as important but I still had a fair bit going on. My dad came down to visit me for the first time since I’ve been in Falmouth and later that evening I went down to a bar called ‘the Games Room’ and played Scrabble over cocktails. I highly recommend that bar if you’re ever in the area. It’s great fun and their cocktails are mint! I did post an article about my birthday though actually, I’ve just forgotten about that sorry. I should bore you with the details.

Samhain is what it’s all about. What did I do? I cooked up a ‘feast’ although it wasn’t much of a feast this year, but George was around for it which was nice. I dressed up as a ‘witch’ which was lovely because I’ve wanted to do it for some time. I kind of finished making my hat which was excruciatingly boring to do by hand without a machine but somehow I survived. I think it looks pretty marvellous myself and I’m not put off of making hats at all; it’s difficult but rewarding. We were going to go for a night out or a party but I wasn’t really feeling it since all of my friends were at a students only party, so we went to the Games Room, played 3 games of pool of which I lost them all, countless games of Connect Four of which I won most and a game of table football, which I also won. We got home around midnight and put on Grimm…

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I’ve been watching alot of Grimm, I think I may have already told you but, let me review it for you. It is a heck of a show. All of the characters, minus Munro and Rosalie, make you want to murder people out of their lack of common sense and at times, their unrelatable. They do things that a person would not do and behave in ways that a person would not behave, except Munro and Rosalie who have sense, are relatable and believable. Some how though, George and I have completely fallen for this show though. I’m sure some would disagree but despite the characters being frustrating, the plot keeps you going in times when the characters don’t. We’re close to finishing Season 2 so no spoilers please!! But, phenomenal, it’s all I can say!

The last part of all of this is the Pagan Society. I am ready die now. The amount of running around I did today was spectacular. I printed and posted posters everywhere for students to see. I’ve been updating the Facebook page. I’ve made a survey for perspective members to fill in. I’ve organised a moot for tomorrow at a pub which I wasn’t particularly impressed with. I’ve contacted The Pagan Federation. I have a meeting with the Multi Faith Chaplaincy of the university on Thursday. The list goes on and right now, I feel like I’m ready to retire! I feel successful and accomplished however, I’ll find out if I’ve really been successful tomorrow. I plan to wear my hat tomorrow, which will be interesting on the bus. I’m planning to do a review of the hat tomorrow and of it’s reactions so keep your eyes open for that!

Well, I guess I’ll catch you on Wedneday! See ya!

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My Birthday!

I turned twenty yesterday. Twenty years ago, I was born. I was a baby and I’ve grown up to be a 5″8, 12-and-some stone woman with long hair, and slightly crooked teeth, despite having all kinds of mouth mechanisms as a teenager. Thinking about this seems mind blowing. Life is madness.

I woke up and opened my two cards from my pal Holly and George’s mum, as well as presents from Holly. I had an essay hand in that day so I rushed into uni not long after, to hand in that monstrosity through tired eyes and a ridiculous lack of coordination. I’m surprised I functioned at all. I had to ask a friend for assistance at one point because my brain was not ready to even be alive. When I got back, I had just enough time to tidy my room and hoover most of downstairs by the time he arrived.

After opening my presents, I was a pretty spoilt daughter, he kindly went into town so I could have a phone call with my boy, who had texted me a lovely message to wake up to. When my parents came back, we went to Truro (Cornwall’s attempt at a city) and we attempted to find a place for dinner. We decided on a pub after walking the entire centre, and I recommend their Steak and Ale pie highly. That steak was melt-in-your-mouth delicious. If I remember the name of it, I’ll let you know. After that, dad decided he wasn’t very impressed by Truro and we went back to Falmouth. Dad thought, some how, that Falmouth was bigger.

Before heading back, dad lit me a ‘candle’ in my birthday hot chocolate in Wetherspoons. I Skyped everyone when I got in, as you do, and my dad and Ker (dad’s girlfriend) went over to their ‘hotel’ in Newquay. Later that evening I grabbed a couple of my pals and went down to a bar called ‘The Games Room’ where we played cocktails over a game of Scrabble. It was a particularly different experience.

So, in the end, I’d had a pretty good day. I missed George and my family like hell but I was real glad my dad came down. He hadn’t come down last year to visit so it meant a lot that he did this time. I’m back in Yeovil now, being spoilt by George and my sister Rach. Will be seeing my mum and other sisters tomorrow so I’m pretty excited. Got a shit load of work to do and it’s currently 2.45am. We’ve spent pretty much all night watching Grimm, which I recommend you all watch if you don’t already. It’s bloody fantastic.

Cheers guys, see you soon xx

Keeping It Real

Brace yourselves folks, another crappy mood has captured me. So before I go any further, I’m going to apologise for my lack of good writing recently and for the emotional shit that is about to poor off of my finger tips and onto this post.

tears drip drop. fingers twitch. lips quivers in the corners. eyes swell. brain somersaults, explodes, assaults me, runs marathons. eyes burst open, like dams. guts spill on floor. sadness stabs open wounds. pain, pain go away, come again another day. head bangs on walls. throw myself to the floor. stupid girl. stupid. im a stupid girl, in a stupid world. stop thinking like that. youll push him away. like the tears, hell get away. youre behind this steering wheel. but you cant stop a storm.

your’re paranoid. insecure. stop this madness. youre brewing this coffee. tap tap tap. his typing irritates. hide it well. hell get upset. but you know he knows. freezing room. too poor for money. too poor to complain. tears stop. this panic works differently. one two three one two three. heart attack. heart attack. one two three one two three. hope to god he doesnt realise. hope to god this doesnt push him away. hope to god your distrust doesnt get found. you know these women. these mechanical operations are hollow. transparent. theyll get your man if you aint careful. youll be offering him up on a platter. take him, half price now, my paranoia says.

I sit behind my laptop, unable to speak, unable to find the words for how I feel, why I feel. The tips of my fingers seem to know how I feel long before my mouth does. There is no direct path from brain to mouth. The train doesn’t reach that territory.

The Leap of Faith

It’s like sitting in an aeroplane for the first time,

And praying to God that you don’t die,

As you watch the country you love pass you by,

You’re only hope is that you can fly.

It’s like standing on the edge of the old Grand Canyon,

And wishing that luck will be your best companion,

So that you don’t fall, so that you don’t die,

So that time can gracefully pass you by.

It’s like being in a boat when you can’t swim,

And you realise your best thought was far too dim,

You’re rocking with the boat- this way and that,

Hanging in a moment, just like a bat.

It’s like visiting a pyramid when you’re claustrophobic;

Or keeping a fabulous friend when you’re homophobic;

It’s like being in the dark when you’re still afraid;

Or being shy and nervous whilst entering a parade.

It’s every secret I have ever told you,

It’s every date I let your pursue,

It’s every kiss that I permit,

It’s every charm  that you commit,

It’s every laugh kept between us two,

It’s the leap of faith that I take for you.

Why Body Positive?

This morning has compelled me to write another body positive blog. I know that a few of my readers gain a lot from reading about this. But why? I took a survey today about that very question and it helped me to answer my own question. I blog about body positivity to help inform those that are insecure about themselves and need reassurance. I read blogs and look at pictures to reassure myself, to compare myself. It’s ok to admit that. That’s what they are there for. They help you to validate yourself and to teach you that confidence is allowed, regardless or size, age, race. You are a beautiful creature and you are allowed to think that when you look in the mirror. You are allowed to like yourself. In fact, you’re even allowed to LOVE yourself. What a crazy notion: that a person is to love their large thighs, or their small arms, their frizzy hair or their freckles, their wobbly tummy. You are allowed to love these things. This is why I encourage you all to post pictures today of a part of you that you love. Write about it. Sing about it. Draw it. The more you do to accept yourself, the more others will learn to accept themselves, too. Which is important. Acceptance is a ripple effect.

If you sit their and moan about all the things you don’t like about yourself.; if you moan about the things that are changing, or won’t change, then others will moan about those things too because they will think it’s acceptable, and right. But what is right about hating yourself and wishing that you don’t exist because you don’t have a particular ‘something’? A few years ago I used to Tumble a great deal, more than I do now. One of my friends, and a few of my followers ran very depressing blogs, and I’m not ashamed to say that I hated seeing it. These posts were not aiding these people. They were not making the individual better. Some claim they do, to help vent. But the problem lies that: you have these thoughts in the first place. One such example would be a picture of a very very thin person, reduced to skin and bone with the caption of: ‘I want to disappear’. People think this way. People obsess about losing weight and are devastated when they put weight on and it’s heartbreaking. Kids and other vulnerable people catch sight of these things and it can be a huge influence. People start to see themselves in a different way and people start to doubt themselves. For such a while, I too felt awful about myself. These people were already very small, and wanted to be smaller. How did they see me? How huge and ugly must they have thought I looked if this was what they wanted for themselves? If this was their goal?

Recently though, I’ve found a great deal of body positive blogs on Tumblr, where all bodies are celebrated and I’m not ashamed to admit that I love seeing pictures of curvy women, women that look like me and women that are bigger than me. I’m so used to seeing pictures of women that are smaller than me, that it is a relief to see something different being celebrated. That doesn’t mean that people can be allowed to demean or insult the pictures of women that are smaller, by any means. It’s just a breath of fresh air that people are starting to be happy with themselves. It’s the start of a long battle. Once people can admit that they are wonderful, they can then see where things need to be changed to make themselves even MORE wonderful. If it wasn’t for the confidence of other women, I may not have found my own. And this has lead me to be aware of myself, and the influence I have. It’s made me see that I am happy with how I am, but that it wouldn’t hurt if I could lose a few pounds to get to a healthier weight. I’m not going to obsess about it and set a massive goal, but I am going to try and walk as much as possible and I am eating healthier since moving into my new house. However, I’m also not ashamed to say that I did eat a large amount of cake yesterday. I found it hilarious, and totally delicious. You are allowed to treat yourself. You only live once.

So, when you see someone being confident about themselves, compliment it. Raise them up a peg. Then show how confident you can be. Post a picture in return. See how many compliments you get, too and let everyone raise you up. It does happen and it does work. You’re all beautiful humans. Show them who you are, inside and out and it will be rewarded. You’ll feel so much better and maybe, after a while, you’ll even begin to believe it!

Love and Light, lovelies! x

Outfit Of The Day 06/09/15

Today I had ‘interviews’ for the Pagan Society’s council at Falmouth University. Before I can even get this society established, I need a council. So, I organised to have interviews because I don’t know people very well. One person turned up so he was instantly given the role of Treasurer. Two other girls were interested, but they were unable to come due to illness. So after talking on line to them later, they became the other council members.

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Last week, I had an outfit planned for this occasion. My nan had handed me down a green suede suit from Lakeland Fine Leather. I never thought I’d wear it and I had no idea on which occasion I would. I didn’t actually think I liked it and I wasn’t sure why I clung on to it but I’m glad I did. It has Ivy leaves cut into it and I think it’s adorable. It certainly screams ‘Pagan Business’ on it! So, I wore this suit for it to be received by one person. Was not what I was hoping for, but better than never being worn.

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I find it somewhat an odd fit because the skirt is quite big, and the jacket is quite tight. Usually things fit the other way round, but not this time. I paired this fine suit with a tan coloured vest from Primark, and a pentacle necklace from Claire’s.

Having A Crap Time

I’m sat here in bed at 1.43pm, trying to read Defoe’s Roxana ready for tomorrow and I’m feeling absolutely wretched. The book it’s self it enough, so far, to make me sad enough. To think that things like that probably did happen to people and that there are women today that feel that have nothing but their bodies to offer. On top of this, since the moment I had arrived back in Falmouth, I had felt an awful degree of sadness, knowing that all of my closest friends, my boyfriend, my family, my sense of stability lost. Over the summer, I had felt myself revert back to what I would refer to as ‘my old self’, that is the version of me that is sad, lonely, lazy, and fearfully terrified. I don’t know why I refer to this frame of mind as ‘the old self’ since it is as reoccurring as the sun rise. It comes and goes in stages, sometimes for a few minutes, sometimes for weeks on end.

So, I was laid in bed reading Roxana when I had this awful cloud of doubt swarm over me, concerning George and my relationship. Last year, he was where I am now and I made it my vow to help him, because I love him. This year, he seems much be better and healthier in mind than he was last year and for that I am grateful. All I have ever wanted for him is to be happy. However, it now seems that I have landed myself in a spot of bother. I had grown used to our constant communication. I’d grown used to, despite being hundreds of miles away, feel safe and stable. I knew he needed me as much as I him. Now George is better I feel as a loss because I am not better. I couldn’t say that I am worse because I have seen my worst days and I don’t think I’m quite there yet.

So, I’m in a rut. I don’t want to drag George down, I don’t want to drag anyone down for that matter and I feel like this misery is my burden to bare and mine only. That by sharing this grief, I may alienate the ones I love and that it one of my biggest fears. Which is why I’m spilling my guts here, because I don’t know whom to talk to, really. I feel to low to even step outside of my bedroom. I’m having difficulty concentrating on Roxana and  I’m unsure of who would be best to talk to. George is at work and I know it upsets him a lot to hear of my upset, and this makes talking about it difficult. Talking to family usually ends with ‘stop it, you’re being silly’ and then a big hug, but there’s no one here for the hug. That kind of hurts. As for friends, I’m not sure they would quite understand. I don’t even understand. Sure, I have helped friends with mental illnesses and low moods before, but I’m not sure if they would ever do the same. Which also saddens me. I’m not sure they would understand now, from not being in that frame of mind any more. It’s silly to have friends that think the same as you, knowing they will get better and you won’t. I feel selfish.

I’m not even sure about posting this but I know that I will not feel better bottling up all of this horribleness. Sometimes you need to put into practice your own advice and it can be quite liberating. I’ve quit crying now, which is a relief. It would be a pain if I had to go out and by more toilet roll. Can guarantee a head ache coming on though soon, luckily, I’ve got a load of Ibuprofen left so that shouldn’t be a problem. Get to see George tomorrow night and I know that I should feel better then. Having him around isn’t a cure, but he certainly makes me feel ten times better. I just have to wait till tomorrow and hope to god that he’s not upset or annoyed at me when we call later. Should probably get food. It’s Twenty Past Two and I still haven’t eaten yet, but I can slowly feel my appetite rising, which is nice. I get so upset that it makes me feel so sick.

Over the summer there I got so upset and worried that I actually was sick. It’s never happened before, not even at my worse. My worse is like a perpetual sadness where dark thoughts are always on my mind, it doesn’t really fluctuate, unless something big happens, and it doesn’t really go away. This is different and new. This does fluctuate. Little things can set me off. I feel sick often. I’m scared of being sick because it hurts. This is like a roller coaster. I feel fine and then all of a sudden I’ve walked into a massive wall of craziness and like a dam, all of this sadness and anger pents up with no where to go. Then it all over flows and gushes out of me in what feels like one never ending sob until my eyes are numb, my head hurts and my body aches. I get all of these ‘ideas’ about how I could make this all go away. The only one that I know makes any sense is to talk to a professional about it and hope they don’t turn me away, or laugh at me. This however, requires courage. I’ve dealt with this for about ten years. Didn’t know this was a legitimate thing until 3-4 years ago. Had a boyfriend try to force me to get my ‘head looked at’. Had another boyfriend ‘s father tell me it was due to attached spirits. Had a ‘friend’ tell me quite impolitely, let’s say, that I was mentally ill and, in agreeance with the first boyfriend, that I should find help. So, I’m going to start by trying to book a uni counsellor tomorrow. However, from my experience over Easter with the counsellors, there is quite a waiting list. Otherwise, it’ll be a visit to the doctors but I’m not really sure I’d like it to come to that. Particularly when I feel so alone.

I’ve always reminded myself when I feel like this, that I’m a warrior, a survivor, and after a while of repeating it in my head, I can believe it but right now it seems further and further away from the truth, hence where my latest poem came from. I’m a mess. I can admit that and hopefully, just hopefully, I can get better, too.

For anyone that took the time to read this, thank you. Having this blog is one of the few outlets I’ve got now. I used to play a lot of sport, which helped relieve the tension, but I find all of these things hard to do now because I’m so disorganised. Having readers like you, really does help to lift my spirits and I could never say thank you enough. See you soon x

I Am Not A Warrior

Today, I’m not a warrior.

I’m a worrier.

Today, I’m not a survivor,

I am the weak.

Today I’m not happy,

I’m miserable.

Today I break the things out of reach

and pull away from those that are.

Today my tears fall like rain

and gush like rivers upon my face.

Today I feel sick to the stomach

I am blinded by a sense of loss.

This loss has no cause

but cause strife

this heartache knows no cause

but to cause misery in my life

This pain that fills my heart

knows no medicine, no relief,

except of that I can not reach.

Yesterday I felt misery at your misery

Today I feel misery at your happiness

Misery is a game that cannot be won

It’s a self-proclaimed damnation

A self-damning of the highest decree

to make yourself sad with out cause

or justification

I am not a warrior,

Today I am just a worrier.

I am not a survivor,

Today I am just the broken.

I am not happy,

Today I am just miserable.

Where do I find solace?

Sanctuary? My mind is a prison

That I am bound to, such

pains, I would rather see death

than to live out my days with this misery.

Surely, there is a medicine for this illness

a medicine I am too cowardly to seek.

How does one alter a life long affliction as this?

How does one find a light in all this darkness?

How does one stop the heart from breaking?

These things have no cause, not purpose

they just are.

Today, I am not a warrior,

I am a worrier.

Today, I am not a survivor,

I am the weak.

Today I am not happy,

I am dying.