Author: readieg

"It's not you, it's me". There's no reply. I reflect for a second, on our relationship, on the time that we've spent together. Every day. Every hour of every day, even when I'm sleeping, never more than a stretch away. I panic when we're apart. Like a limb is missing. It makes me feel vulnerable, [...]

* I absolutely do not wish to trivialise alcoholism in this blog, but I do intend to explore the roots of my own negative behaviours, which happen to involve drinking.* I've had a lot of difficulty with my behaviour when I drink recently. I'm not talking a little tipple with dinner, I'm talking really drink. [...]

A year seems like a long time. If you were to plan something for next year, it would feel like a long time to wait. However, the idea that a year has passed since I sat down to write my intentions for my 22nd year on Mother Earth seems ludicrous. It feels like yesterday, the [...]

I am a little bit, or actually, the more I think about it, a lot a bit, of a hypocrite. My ideals, that I often preach and strive to uphold are, in my opinion, admirable. My intentions are great. I wake up most days with the intentions of being a good person. I try my [...]

It's a feeling. It can be both a healer and a pain inducer. It is nostalgia; a key to the past, to a moment, to a person. It moves your body, releasing you of your daily control. It says 'kick your shoes off', 'show them you love them' and 'it's okay to cry.' Music is [...]

I study History and Journalism at University. Apparently Brexit is extremely relevant to both. I do not know much about Brexit. I smile and nod. I use buzz words like 'referendum' and 'nightmare.' I assume that nobody actually knows what's going on. They think they do, they know the bones of it, but they don't [...]

My default position when talking about acceptance of the self, is to talk about my relationship with the ‘man in the mirror.’ Perhaps it’s because I’m vain. More likely though, it’s because of the emphasis that has been put on image throughout my life. Instagram, drama school, changing room mirrors, unrequited love; it all seemed [...]