It is not my fight…

2017, and its fallen away at its seems, but its not my fight. I decided to call a day on something only seven days into the new year. Why? good question, because things went back to how they were. My now, ex-partner had to work back up surrey, now this is not a bad thing as it is just a place? Yes but it’s a place where 2016 was fraught with lies and games, he became I man I despised, a person I did not want in my life. So I left him. And I knew then I done the right thing. And I know I have done the right thing again. Only this time, I can’t possibly go back. His anger and vile tongue which lashes you with names and hatred through gritted teeth. His inability to listen to reason or compromise. I didn’t change, he did. And that’s ok, It was and is a good test for me, as I knew if this person, the person I left last year as he couldn’t be trusted or spoken too returned that I could leave, and not regret my decision, even a percentage. He decided to cause an argument over a tweet, where I spoke in the third person, as I and most of the people in the world do, himself included. It was funny, because he choose to argue over this, as it made him ‘paranoid’ the tweet was “Going to bed as you’re in a funky ass mood, that makes things just seem worse” this included the hashtag Thursday, and the previous tweet read ” Fuck off today – you weren’t all that” – now I am a pretty logical person so if a person has described that the day sucked and within seconds posted about being in a funky arse mood and going to bed, I wouldn’t be paranoid over that. I would be paranoid, however, if someone who has a massive history of lying, being sly, kissing and fucking other girls and sexually picture messaging them, when to a place, where all this happened. Not to mention he normally fucks around with his clientele (girls he works on) – so yeah, ummmmmm and when this all occurs he becomes nasty, aggressive and argumentative and paranoid. As of course, if someone is fucking around, they normally are paranoid about what the other person is doing.

I find great comfort in the fact that I put a tweet up after saying how much my day sucked, and he THOUGHT, he went off his own little paranoid assumption, that it could of be aimed at another guy. No, no don’t laugh, not yet…….. it gets better because then he unfollows me and calls me a fucking monkey on social media because he wouldn’t listen to reason. Even though the night I put the tweet up, I told him I was tired. I didn’t want to go into a long ass conversation about how shitty my day was. But …….when I phone him to explain and he is instantly aggressive and unreachable I called it a day between us, as that night he was having food over his ‘friends’  and had no time to speak to me or sort it out. He told me I quote “Just go to sleep” after giving me grief about this tweet since the morning I woke up. So yeah, I am paranoid because he is back in a place where he dry humps, and fucks girls, kisses and explicit messages them and has a little whore base-up there….. but I am mental for that. I am fucking mental for that!! – Now you can laugh because he is not for the tweet. Even though the complete moron spent the whole Christmas living with me, knowing I do not talk or message any other guy. But when he lives for slags Ville where he has a lot of dirty history, I am not allowed to be insecure, or paranoid. Massively different set of ideas there right?

The thing is for as long as he is up there ….. and we are not in contact or together with the less I want to see or speak to him. The less I will be waiting around, or maybe thinking we could sort this out. Why?

because he does things and then lies about them. Then when we do get back together and I find out….. It’s sickening, that I didn’t even deserve the truth. So I will not be sat here being paranoid or insecure, I will be moving on with my life and not mourning the death of a relationship whereby my so called partner does not understand, respect, logic compromise or that being a hypocrite is not what I want in a partner. See when I left him last year because of his sleazy and lying and cheating ways I met another guy and started a relationship, and I was gifted with no paranoia, no cheating or aggressively nasty name calling insulting or degrading behaviour. So that tells me that it’s not normal to talk to someone like that…. treat them like that and make them feel so shit about themselves. I thought having another relationship with someone would actually make my ex-partner realise what he lost. It did, and up until about three weeks ago, we both agreed that me being with someone else gave him the kick up the arse he needed to sort himself out and man up.  He did, but then back in surrey, he  has turned back into the boy that repulses me. So it is not with a heavy heart I say goodbye to him. It is with a proud attitude I walk away, as I didn’t change or go back to a place that made him feel insecure because of all the girls, lies and fucking round. I simply put up a tweet saying I had a shit day, and that I was going to bed and that being in bed just made it seem worse. Funny thing is I would prefer a tweet, that would cause me a bit of concern opposed to someone physically going back to a place that instils such fear and negative feelings and thoughts to someone else. But, hey that’s just ‘mental me’ –

Thing is I won’t be crawling back to a man who calls me mental as he cannot comprehend the double standards the hypocrisy and empathise and understand the vast difference in HIM getting paranoid over a tweet because of HIS assumptions, and me not performing or going mad or crazy or as he loves to call me ‘mental’ because he went back to a place he fucked other girls and messaged and dated and dry humped a load and was sexual with  others. Maybe one day when he’s not blinded by his ignorance and selfish ways he will see this. But I won’t hold my breath. As he only realises when its too late….. only this time it really will be too late and he will have no one to blame but his attitude, his behaviour his aggressive ways.

 

So it’s 2017 and I have already upheld one of my resolutions I vowed to myself last year I would do, ‘If he dared to treat me like he did before, with a ring on my finger or not, I would leave him and walk, as I know what I deserve and want and if he cannot or won’t do it, then he is not a good contribution to my life my heart or head.

 

So it’s not my fight to fight, it’s not my fight to win. It’s my decision to walk away and in doing so I have gained more appreciation for myself and less for him. I have gained a sense of calm and a determination to not return or live out the next year like I lived last year. It’s not my fight as I refuse to fight someone so angry, immature and selfish. I rather take my fighting ‘time’ and invest it in me. I have already done two things I have booked a holiday to Mexico for me and my daughter and I have booked Cornwall for me and my daughter because family is what you invest in, as its the only thing that gives such support and love anytime it is required and even when it’s not. I am not looking for a man, to build a house with, or a boy to have a laugh with. I am looking for someone who knows and understand and holds the same principals for a family as I. Money comes and goes, friends change, but family cares and is there no matter what….. no matter who.

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Enough?

The most compelling argument I encounter with myself is wrapped around ‘enough’ Such questions as “Am I enough” or “Did do enough” and “when is enough, really enough”. These are arguments we all have with ourselves only sometimes we pose them in different ways. Positive negatives usually, “Did I do too much” or “Did I overdo it”. Either way, the questioning of ourselves never stops, it may recede but it will never prevail. Therefore should one obsessed over these such questions… inevitably we all do as we are slaves to the ‘precautions’ or ‘consequences’ that comes with interacting, performing and essentially every action we extend beyond ourself. The feeling of self-worth drives these questions into a long division of possible and certain answers, but with only one definite outcome; lack of self-belief and confidence.

I am blessed to have such a solid group of people admire and relate to my photography, I am privileged to call some people across the other side of the ocean a friend. I also am fortunate enough to have anyone who knows me, adore me and my outlook. I have used a medium on which to project my vision, my perspective and my feelings. This leaves me extremely vulnerable, it also empowers me too. There is a balance to everything. Too much sweet can rot your teeth, to much brushing can damage your gums. There is the balance, and it is in the process of learning and understanding a balance that we can not question what is enough or what is not enough. Balance is the most fundamental law of gravity, therefore the sky never has to question the coverage and the sea never have to question its depth. They both stay, equally where they are and exist in a balance.

If you have bipolar you very rarely find a balance. This is now my ultimate goal, to try, and find a balance. I haven’t posted or created many photos, but I have researched and bought props and I have been inspiring and filled a notepad with ideas for shoots and projects. Therefore my balance of not actually shooting has created a different form of balance in the theory not the practical. So for 2017 my aim is to find balance in many forms.

Sparking a Journey

It’s the initial spark, of creativity, of enthusiasm or drive, once that spark is ignited it can rage. Bipolar can be described as having a million tabs on a computer open, I agree, but imagine if all those tabs lets just say ten, for now, those ten tabs are playing different songs all at one time. Then add another ten tabs, and these tabs are playing ten different movies, then another ten that are playing tutorials. Then imagine taking ten different phone calls at the same time and talking and responding to ten different people, all while these other tabs blaze at you. Hard to imagine anything more than ten songs playing at the same time? hard to comprehend? yeah, i have heard people say that. But imagine, if you can, all these open tabs and the phone calls and imagine that you are in a shop shopping, or out with friends drinking, and this is all playing. Uncomprehensible? Yeah, it’s also hell to deal with. That’s minus the added side effect of anxiety, which makes you feel like you are drowning, your breathing becomes shallow, your emotions whirlwind and rip through you like a tornado, and your heart beats so fast, that it makes you feel sick, actually sick. This is bipolar, this is also minus the paranoia of people talking about you, conspiring against you. This is exhausting for a person to deal with, reason people with bipolar end up in a manic state is to try to occupy as much of their focus they can muster into one thing, to keep active, to not be able to think, or rather listen to their thinking. The reason the lows happen is because exhaustion has taken over, the bipolar has one, and the blanket of petrol is suffocating your body, and you are just waiting again for the match to drop the blanket to ignite, just so you can feel something, other than this demonic despair. So a flash of heat can maybe trigger a manic state, so you feel euphoric and alive.

 

I am struggling massively lately with this spark, I have given up uni and i thought straight away I would be able to throw myself into the fire of creativity. It’s not happening. I spoke to my therapist and she said that with any prolonged pressure or injury, there needs to be a recovery time. So this is my recovery time, I thought I would throw myself into reading and writing and editing and photography, and my business, but I can’t. Not yet. It feels like any minor activity is a triumph, even going to the post office or out of the house. But as long as I am doing ‘something’ i am told that it is helping my recovery. So I research photographers, I look at art I am inspired, I have compiled a book of drawings which i will turn into photographs, and blog posts to accompany them. I am spending a lot of time with my Dad, as it feels safe to be around him, and my uncle. I am focusing on the day, and not the tomorrow, and I am enjoying nice hot long baths. But motivation at the moment is absent, and so is the confidence to do anything. Another perk of bipolar or manic depression. I have contemplated reducing my pill’s, and tempting a manic episode so I can kick start the motivation. Though I haven’t as I don’t want to burn out, I want to be steady, or as steady as I can be.

 

This image is to represent that although you can have many great ideas, many great aspirations and goals, sometimes the timing of achieving them is not as important as the journey in which you will achieve them.

The idea 

Like all great accomplishments they start with a idea, a concept, a seed, from which is planted, nourished and explored. When a idea is nurtured it becomes a conceivable and realistic creation. The idea can only be a thought if one has the ability to see beyond the now. No idea has ever been conceived in the future, it’s impossible. But the thought of a idea that can materialise into something in the near or distant future is one in which we should all be working towards.

I can preach this to you, but I cannot convince you, only you can convince yourself of the possibilities you can achieve. Should you want. I have decided to start a project, this project is one which I wished to start after I had finished university. But due to the amount of stress and management of my bipolar the strain of uni became to much. It consumed me to the point whereby it made everything good in my life a chore and miserable. It made me someone I did not want to be. My enthusiasm and my creativity and lust for life disappeared. My bipolar moods and anxiety intensified. And no medication helped. So I made a decision, that I would take a break from my last year and come back to it at a later date. As when I am happy and enthusiastic then everything around me and everything I do is done with love. And like a plant that’s been planted, if it is loved and nurtured it will bloom so beautiful and strong. But if it is neglected and not given ones full attention then It will weep and perish a lot quicker. It will be weak and pale. So I decided that I was to nurture myself in order to bloom. And this is ok to do, to remind yourself of why you love life.

I have decided to dedicate a year of my life to pursuing my dreams, my writing and my photography, and starting up my business. This will be a year whereby I explore a new set of skills and strengths and weaknesses of myself. I am excited and nervous but I have a supportive network of people around me. That I cherish so much and I know believe in me more than I believe in myself.

So I have decided to explore a project whereby every week I will be creating a image, sometimes maybe more than once, but I will only do so should I find pleasure in it. Within every picture I will be detailing my inspiration, my reasons, and my idea and my execution. I will blog with every picture, the weakness in the image the strength and the flaws. The reason I will do this is for myself and others. I know most people will see a image and perfection, but, this is not the case to the creator. But instead of being critical of myself and my work I will use it as a opportunity to focus on my strengths. I have a different type of photography I want to explore also. I am a surreal/conceptual/ artist. But I want to push in the direction of photography whereby I can use simple images to create maximum impact. I will do self portrait work but I am also going to branch out and start using models so I can focus on my photography and editing.

I have decided to use this project as a platform to detail and accurately portray mental health affects. The secondary affects it has and the taboo it encompasses in society and culture. Every week I will be peeling my skin off and delivering it to you on a coat hanger. I aim to do this no matter how difficult this is…. I also want to inject some positivity as I know that we can all do with some motivation. As kindness and compassion can create such unity and understanding. So I want to promote and idea …. if I can insert a idea into other people, and give them a idea, of what bipolar is, what it encompasses, how it can be managed, understood, helped, admired, or related too. Then my idea has been conceived into a accomplishment.

Compartmentalisation …..

Well, hello.

For those who read these things heres a few lessons….life is a puddle and you human made up of 97% water. To live you need to drink. So whether that be sicking, sipping, splashing, or face-planting that puddle to truth of the matter is the puddle is your means to living. So instead of saying life sucks, stop sucking from the puddle and splash in the damn thing. I have learnt it is sometimes what you need to do to smile while you are staying to survive.

‘Triggers’  – So I am bipolar. Hate being labelled but i have to admit i am learning things i wouldn’t if i wasn’t. Thats got to be good right? Well I know everyone has triggers to things that make them angry or sad. Well, I have a massive trigger that doesn’t so much trigger my emotions as my moods. Its kids. Other peoples, I cant stand them. To be around them or to even look at them. I have never been the most maternal woman in the uterus, and my uterus now is literally just for show. But it is children, they affect me so bad. I think its because as a person with bipolar i need stability and to a certain degree, control. Control of who is around me, as adults, their behaviour is somewhat more stable than a child. I recently went to a trampoline centre with my daughter and a friend. I had no intention of jumping on trampolines and my anxiety wasn’t the best (social situations another major trigger) However i was in the indoor centre less than two minutes before i bolted quicker, faster and more wild than any horse. What is it with screeching kids? Kids who scream. I cannot handle it, whether it be with fun or pain, or upset I cannot stand the screeching of a child. Now im sure a few of you think this maybe callus. But, as a woman a human I am entitled to say as I please and to not feel guilty for how i feel. I do not like other peoples children. I have no control over them so if the parent becomes angry at the child in my presences my mood plummets as then i have to be around a crying, or screeching or sulking or tantrum throwing child. The adult seems to go oblivious to this where as im in hell. The fact also some parents choose not to discipline their children ( i do not mean beating them, but being able to warn them that their behaviour will have consequences should they continue) So the child just goes around, ( in my house is the worse) with as much respect or regard for personal space as genital warts. This makes me detach so much from the people and children. I just want them gone as soon as possible. Which i suppose is why i never work  (photograph) children. As parents seem to think this thing that escaped their ball sack, or fell from their uterus is the most perfect thing in the universe, and does not need any moulding or refining. This is why society is slowly being ruined. Parents like these. Which in-turn makes me not like venturing out into society, as there are ‘these’ parents and ‘these’ children.  This may seem like such a harsh blog, but to those who know me i never sugar coat anything, for anyone. I am not that person.

So my ‘trigger’ is children, other peoples as they affect my mood so quickly and so intensely. Its the younger children more the 5yr old and under i suppose. Yes, those. I seem to be anxious around children which slowly begins to drain my emotions. Should this carry on for a prolonged period, just from this encounter alone, the following day i feel drained and numb. A bit dazed and not connected to reality. I find my friends children the worse, opposed to strangers children. Though some strangers children have that ‘i don’t care who you are’ attitude towards them and will just outright be a spoilt little brat. But friends children see me as more familiar…. which I do not like. As they then feel more comfortable to display negative behaviour around me which makes me become completely cold towards my friends as i want them to leave. Its a trigger. A trigger that always puts me in a mood I do not like. Its a trigger that will then ‘fuck me’ over the next day as the anxiety, the caution, the annoyance and the combusting anger i have to supress drains me so bad, i cannot cope with life the next day.  So another little lesson I learn is how much emotional impact things can have on me that i have not paid attention to before. The way a friend can argue with his/her partner on the phone, and if i am there and stuck (i have no car to escape in) it becomes a ‘trigger’ that emotional impacts me so bad that i don’t want to see that person again for a good few days. Because, to be honest, If i wanted to witness or be involved in a argument i would create one or i would watch people argue. It takes me hours to even be able to even smile after being subjected to that. Which then makes personal relationships difficult. As you don’t just get into a relationship with the person you like. You have to get involved in a relationship with their mother or father and siblings and friends. NOOOOOOO THANK YOU. As people come with their own problems, work, job, house, issues, and normal things. Which i can handle, but then their parents or siblings or friends are somewhat attached and bring their issues to the person you are in a relationship with… which then means you have to deal with them, although you didn’t sign up for that shit. Well i never do. I think of it like, your family? Is your family, your problem part of your life to deal with. ( don’t get me wrong if their mother needed a blood transfusion and i was a match i would do it in a heartbeat, but thats because i’m a good person, not because i like other peoples families. Other peoples mothers fathers etc have that attachment that warped perspective of their child or sibling and their loyalties will always be with them, not matter if you marry their son, friend or sibling. It is just the way it is. SO i learnt my lesson. Just  be civil and polite, avoid family gathering and social events, as this is just another situation whereby (if they know you have a mental health issue you are not judged, and you wont be put in situations that ‘trigger’ your mood to spiral) PERFECT SOLUTION to me. That way i have my own little world with my partner he still has his own friends and family etc and i have mind. There is no need for them to cross, or  burden our relationship as a couple or each other.  As lets face it when your relationship breaks down with your partner and it never really ends amicable not straight away anyway, then any relationship you have with THEIR family, THEIR friends breaks down too. FACT.

One thing in which i have decided to do it to be more selfish. I have decided if a mother of mine cannot be bothered to text or to phone me, or ask how her granddaughter is. That is ok. That is fine. I will not chase after a relationship with someone just because I have alike DNA to them. Neither shall i be bitter at the parent who puts a wedge between her two daughters and granddaughters by only bothering with one lots and not the other. That is her choice and i respect that. It saves me having to listen to the mother whine about the other daughter or bills that everyone has to pay and to turn such trivial things into such overpoweringly dominate things to create drama is mind-blowing to me. Life is complicated enough without wanting to complicate it even more. Any one with any form of intelligence in my opinion should consider two things when facing a problem or potential problem.

1) Can i control the problem or situation or change it?  If the answer is no, then accept it and move on.

2) Can i control or change or alter this problem and the way I feel? If the answer is yes, you can. Then do it, nobody needs to know about it, nobody really cares but you when it comes down to it, so quit wasting time and sort it. problem solved. Time saved. Be happy again.

Some lessons are learnt the hard way, some lessons are never learnt. The only lesson we should ever be taught both at home and in school is – ‘You have one life, so does every one around you, one day they will leave or you may. Do your best to leave them with good memories and a positive impact and you only get one ‘true’  chance with someone, any other chances are just because the person is polite, not because you deserve it’

Now i will bore you a little with his image and my concession of recent images, which i think have a additional element within them. The Art. I do like photo manipulation but the process from;

sourcing dresses

making props/buying them

to finding a location/another model

to taking the photogrpah setting up, ensuring all angles are covered etc

to them coming home syncing in lightroom and then editing

between taking coffee breaks, replying to texts, altering my you tube playlist

sourcing stock images or rummaging on my hard-drives for mine.

To the naming layers the lighting balancing and the sewing together seamlessly about twenty different photos I am then left with one image upon my screen. That i usually am never completely satisfied with.

But……….These last few of heavily manipulated photos i have been happy with. They are not as emotionally throat punching as my portraits. I like that. As sometimes even i look at some of my Portraits and I am like…WOW…FUCK LUC thats deep, or dark or rendering. Whereas alot of my heavily manipulated photos have more of a story….. than a emotion. But still can be something of a emotional piece if one attaches a emotion like the one that inspired me to create said image. So These last few images have been about change, rebirth, enlightenment and somewhat cleansing myself. My mental health hit a pinnacle point. And the only thing that calmed or soothed me and let me escape from reality was editing. As anyone who knows anything about lightroom or photoshop will understand how complex a interface it can be. A friend or two has helped, James because he is the Angel that has been ripped of wings and condemned to live on earth…..Poor sod. And more unfortunate for him he crossed my path a few years ago. But a kindred soul he is, and the person who is helping me to create a utopia out my garden, now my dog has died. I love a graveyard and James is helping me cast tombstones and lay some grass. I am so excited for this, i cannot comprehend the words. Not the fact i will have this graveyard out my garden but the fact he suggested we do it, and that he is the one pushing for it…. and the fact whenever i shall sit in my garden, James will always be the memory that i remember. The memories we shall create, casting and practicing, painting and laying the memories that make people the worst kind of people when they leave…. as then i’m left with painful splinters of memories that hurt every time they are remembered. Then i have a beautiful friend who isn’t a close friend but she is close enough and long enough old a friend by almost twenty years to know that my child will always be safe for as long I need that security should anything happen to me. There are a precious few people who come into your life and never leave… sometimes just sitting on the side lines. Then you have other people who cross your path… and you learn something from them… They never stay, they never mean what they say. So to those people, the door was open, now it is closed. Another chance i’m sure will arise because i’m polite, but the ‘true’ chance has a headstone in my garden ready to be laid.

These recent pieces of Art have not been inspired by sadness, as much and many of my images are…. but of progress, each one I am climbing unsteady chairs…. Or morphing from a human to a raven, symbolising freedom. The dark within me being wild and taking flight. The elements of nature, Earth, Air , Fire and water…. and me…..’Spirit’ The symbolic blue dress is the morpho butterfly i adore. Which cycles through a life recently like mine, Or I, like its. The UNKNOWN, was a image whereby i walk down steps and hands from beneath the slates wait hungrily for me. This was massively to do with a brief interaction I had with a man. He was the unknown, and I was walking blind. Lesson learnt. The puppet, and puppeteer with my Tim burton styled background, symbolised a lover i once had. Who showed me what i could have a lover and a happy life, but he was in control and it was never a situation that he proved we would ever be in. So i left. This was shortly followed by the skeleton and I sat on the floor. The skeleton my ex lover, the smoke from his cigarette another girl he would bring between us…. and me. It was me seeing what our relationship really meant to him, those precious memories, of laughing smoking and drinking coffee were nothing more than wasting time. The Egg timer and I, Is where my fears lie. This was me acknowledging my mental health was rapidly fading, and the less time i had, the more erratic i became. Then the last one within my ‘Progress’ images was me sat up against a wall with my demons, and how i fell back into their traps… how they laugh and mock, how the light in the corner seems like a escape… but misery loves company, and i know that I am not alone, with my demons, but in the light, in the scape, in the new batch of pills, i may never again find me.

So this is me…. and today, I like me. Someone gave me my smile back, and a happiness in my heart… but tomorrow they have the claws to tear it apart… lets see what becomes of us……

They are alive……

Its a one oclock blog again. I wonder why I do these blogs. I wonder who reads them, if anyone, and what they think. These are seconds that last for a moment and i am cautious of what i say. Then like the ticking of a clock my fingers sing on a keyboard and everything pours. I don’t like to think too much. As its never good. Not for me anyway. Relationships are funny things, you take two humans. These are from different walks of life, different values and experiences and throw them together. I always view the start of a relationship as a ……. Child playing with clay. When she has moulded her visions she then plays with them in her imaginary world of pretend. I think thats what we do, or I at least. I have a pretend world where i have made my clay man. To keep him there i have to play fair. To keep him strong and not for him to crack and crumble i have to understand the way he was made. But i don’t. I don’t understand me. So I am at a loss before i could ever conceive to win. Then in my pretend world everything is great. We can mould each other and smooth over the cracks. But in actuality it doesn’t get smoothed over. I choose my human and decided to love him and play with him in my pretend world. But i knew reality would make him crumble. I am just convincing myself i am now unloveable. Its not really the greatest ego boost that my ex cheated on me for two years and for the last year he still couldn’t be faithful. He would flirt with girls and send such pictures i would find out and feel sick. He handed me complex after complex and insecurities that made me shake.  Then i met another man, he was broken and not whole. I think i attract them you know.

I always saw a relationship of a somewhat unity. A team. If i was going to war the person i was with i would want on my platoon as i know they have my back. Yet i dated a guy a bullet, thats engraved and i wear it around my neck. It has a message inscribed but it was in the language he knew so a lie. I decided that I would wear it not because i love him, but because it was one of the many bullets in his gun that killed me and made me weak. But At least i knew he would never leave me. Then i met this other guy. No insecurities, no girls perfection could of been a good word. But then i spiralled and i fell and i descended to hell. Now my demobs are happy as they have me back. It was quiet lovely really how they welcomed me back. They stay up all night with me, and if ever i need company they are always there. I married demons so i can never marry a man.

I confided in a friend of what made me spiral. And as a friend does they show concern. It was nice to acknowledge the disease i have investigated and learnt thats eating me. Ooooooooh no this time its not my mind. This time its not my bipolar. I think if it wasn’t for my bipolar i maybe worse. I have the disease that consumes so many and that the word alone instills fear. It actually made me freeze. My blood ran so cold a splinter of ice must of pierced my heart, as i gasped for air. Cancer i dare. The womanly parts of me are being eaten alive. Im twenty nine and i have a unbalanced mind and a disease eating me alive. The insecurities rise and i feel bile thrown at the back of my throat. I could cry but i haven’t yet. Not over the thing that i just learnt. I think i’m numb or still coming to terms with this vile thing harbouring inside my womb. Like a spawn of satan i’m nurturing it and letting it feed on me. I am a beautiful host.  I actually can feel my breath unsteady as i filter through this truth. I admitted this two two people. Two which i trust and love and know would do anything to see me smile. But still i sit here in my ex boyfriends zip through hoodie, it faintly smells of him. Wearing dungarees bought for me as a sorry from the cheating ex, and the things i am wearing which look the best are fresh scars. Another chapter of my fucked up life. There was a time where my life was quiet happy and calm. Oh dear lord i wish for that again so bad. The marrow of my bone ache for it. They also ache for a warm embrace. But i know to be hugged would leave this little fighter with a tear stained face.

When it was revealed what i now have to face the cancer of a woman’s delicate place I was shocked nad scared then last night at 5 am i sat out my back garden. The stars weren’t too bright, but the warmth of the night kept me company. The sounds of cars passing on the road behind me made me smile. I wonder how their life differes from mine. I thought about writing, but couldn’t bare to hold my favourite pen. Then a thought crossed my mind, what if this is a pleasure of my life. I have contemplated suicide and attempted it a few more. What if now, ‘This’ disease is here to save and finish me. In a dignified way of course. As suicide is always a frowned upon course. Maybe i have created the work i was suppose too…. release the poems and art i should. Maybe i have changed a few lives, as i know a few have changed mine. I have done alot of good i know in my life, and been a good person to those i know and those i don’t, and those who haven’t deserved my time, but at least if I am lowered into the earth they will know they got more than they deserved and i can sleep peaceful. I tear slide down my face and the smile spread across my face. I own my thoughts and thats what i love about me, I’m not afraid to challenge those of a narrow or closed mind, not to win a argument but to enlighten their life’s. I have handed my notice into three magazines i write for and two support groups i run, one for young kids with self harm issues and one for support and counselling for parents of children who self harm and who have a mental disorder. My own mother do not even know of these jobs, or where i give my time willingly. My own mother knows nothing of my illness as i don’t see the point, she never made me feel ok or accepted for having a mental disorder. So why would she want to support me now, when she can just ignore and spend time with the ‘normal’ child she has. I am not bitter a part of me was. But i know i have done nothing wrong not to deserve what she has or has not done as the case stands. I am due now to turn down the book offer to have a book published, which i started to write. AS i don’t want to be stressed out right now. Writing books are hard. I have my university papers sat on my desk ready to submit to finish my last year. Even though when i printed them off i knew….. spending some time alone has made me think what do i want to be doing for a year? travelling,……… or photographing a series or two that will will remain should anything happen to me. As it’s not as simple as scrape and remove and then a few appointments to ensure things have been cut away. So maybe i will read, read every book i wanted to read. I will travel, travel to the places i want too. Maybe i will visit a few close friends who have been there from the start of my photography journey before i even knew it was a path i would go on to choose.

 

I will visit one man before the year is out. This time four and a half years ago, a man gave me the greatest tip in the world. (shadows) This man has a piece of my heart today. And i want to hold him in a embrace and thank him. For when i have doubted my work, my direction, the purpose of it all….. My darling Luca is there with his Italian charm. He has lasted longer than relationships and gave me more joy than most of them.  And even though i hate Germany, I will find him there.

 

Tomorrow i go and drive for a hour to a tattoo studio to be tattooed. The artist is amazing and I am dying to having this piece on me as for six years i have been in love with the concept of the piece. And i finally put it together and now i get to have a beautiful memoir of it. Then i will have my favourite poem inscribed on my thigh…. a quote or two more and when i lay on the slab or a cold mortuary cradle… I hope they read my tattoos and admire my artwork…. I will be a beautiful corpse in death as i was in life.

Now to try and sleep as seven hours of sleep in five days is something thats killing me. Stopping on lot of medication to be able to undergo treatment is a wonderful way to test my instability. But hey, it makes good pictures…. so at least my instability and insanity will never leave me….. never thought i would say i was actually grateful for that.

 

 

He fell in love with, with a…- A strange girl.

I have decided to blog, only a paragraph for now. Today i have indugled in having my front door open to cool me in the breeze that sulks in. I have subjected my hears and soul, and my neighbours to Hozier, Slipknot, Korn Sabbath, Rye and some Celin Dion. Well variety is the death of life ….

Through all of the songs i noticed the beat in my heart and the thoughts that filtered through….I am a strange girl. Oh i do not complain of this conclusion. But i do wonder what man can fall in love with a strange girl?  I wonder if his hair is long, or his fangs sharp. I wonder if his hand trembles when he concentrates. I wonder for what his accent will be and when he speaks will the words be true. I wonder if his body will be etched with scars or art or if he will keep his thoughts in his head his anger in his fists and his soul deeep inside and he will just be a blank canvas on the outside.

A man made love to my mind last night, and it was the best sex i never had. The man excited me and it was a long time since such nerves had electrified my skin. He lives a million miles away and his accent made me smile. His intelligence made me miss the man i lost some years ago when i wasn’t such a strange girl. I was conforming to him, loving him and his rules, because he made love to my mind better than to my body. His knowledge made me fantasized and it got me through some hard times. He would lay with me, my head on his lap and tell me things and stroke my hair. His accent would soothe my mood, my panic or anger. I could leak a tear for the man i left behind……Then i almost found him again.This man had accent and eyes the colour of burnt honey, and in the sunlight they were of a pond green. That mans eyes now, i fell in love with as the light revealed the depths and colours they held. He knew i was a strange girl…. his tone was calm and his stare was meek…. I never once saw a glimmer of anger. I fell in love with this mans brokeness, Its a shame to say it is what ended us. But his smell lingers in my mind and every time i see the sun setting in the sky i want to cry. I don’t want to look, i dont want to see the colour and how beautiful it can be. How it can transform and ignite my soul. I rather stay awake and watch the sunrise. And i dont even care to much, he stole my sunset. And a little part of me hates him for that.

So now i wonder if he will come back to me…. or if he will choose to  leave me this way….. I am a strange girl and i want my sunset back….. and the man that sat beside me running his fingers through my hair….. telling me of unknown wonders to me. But when i turned to look at him, all i saw was a broken man, and i knew it wouldnt be long before he couldnt stand….. A strange girl she is……

 

A unbalanced mind, a silent fighter only feeling peace in the humming of the night. A beautiful creature she can be, but then she can transform to a creature so free, uncaring and careless that she fly’s away free….. It will take a man who understands ecstacsy and agony and their need to exist in everything especially love. To her, love is pain. It s always been this way. Art is a release, blood letting is where she finds peace and her soul and love is inked into her skin. But to get close enough to read her tatoos and feel her scars you have to be armed. As vicious she can be because no one has ever came in peace without a excuse to eventually leave…….I will give you so many reasons to leave. But if you can stand before me and tell me one reason why you want to stay. I guess i will give in, and love you anyway.