The End of Friendship

This is a novelty; I have no idea what to write about this Monday. I’ve got plans for Wednesday and Friday, but my mind has dried up on the subject of mental health for the moment; maybe it’s because I’m happy?

I have to say that at the moment I’m really happy. I’m content with my life, it has its ups and downs but overall I think I’m the happiest that I’ve ever been. I have some serious challenges coming up in the next year, but I’m just going to have to grit my teeth and get through them.

As time is passing I’m finding myself discovering who my true friends are. They seems to be the people that I can just pick things up with when I see them again and who keep up with me mentally. It’s kind of sad to see how many of my friends don’t seem to be growing up- they’re still fixated on tiny events that happened years ago when we were at school.

I can’t join in when people start reminiscing about school; I don’t remember most of it and the memories that I do have aren’t happy ones. I was either being bullied or struggling with mental health problems when we were at school. Whilst they were ‘fraping’ each other I was cutting myself in a toilet cubicle.

That probably comes across as more self-pitying than I intended it to- it doesn’t make me emotional to think of, it was my life for a long time and I accept it.

What it does mean is that I don’t like to dwell on the past; some parts were great, but I don’t need to hear the same stories over and over again. If they’re the only things holding us together then our friendships just aren’t going to work. How long can we rehash the same stories before we realise how false our link is?

Things get awkward; time moves on and fewer people turn up to each gathering. There are a couple of my friends who seem desperate to hold us all together, and it isn’t natural. We’re meant to drift, to move on and develop new relationships. Yes, we’ll go for a drink now and then, but that’s it. Why can’t we talk about our lives now? Why can’t we forge new links and share new stories?

I have some lovely and amazing friends, I have friends I’ve known since I was a toddler. Those relationships are the ones that grow and change with time. Others are clearly only meant to last for a short period of time. People and friendships drift in and out of our lives. The hard part it knowing when to let go, and when to hang on.

’til next time,

Wren x

Wearing Vintage

I used to be really into vintage clothes- actually, I still am, but back when I was in sixth form I dressed in 1940s style every day. I tried to get as close as I could to looking as though I’d just stepped out of 1940’s England. I look back on that period of my style with a lot of fondness. I only stopped dressing that way because I took up a very practical performing course. My style at the moment is ‘vintage inspired’ and I still love clothes from bygone eras.

These are some of the things that I learnt from my years as a 1940s time-traveller:

• People looking at you is a compliment: I was an incredibly shy child, I was terrified and awkward up until I was about sixteen. I went from not wanting anyone to look at me to enjoying their attention.
• Dress sizes don’t matter: I’m very small and a rough hourglass, I have a small waist and modern fashion tends to just drown me and make me look much heavier than I am. One of the things that I love about vintage is that you have to get rid of the idea of dress sizes. We place so much emphasis on dress sizes when they mean very little. In some shops I’m an 8, in others I’m a 12. It depends entirely on where I shop. When you go shopping for vintage clothes you need to throw away your ideas of dress sizes and instead find out your measurements.
• Sewing is an important life-skill: anyone who reads this blog will know that I proudly fly the feminist flag, and because of this I’ve sometimes fallen into the trap of feeling bad about my love of sewing. Sewing is a useful skill, and it’s helped me save so much money! I can confidently pick up clothes on the cheap that need a couple of stitches, or have some horrible embellishment that can easily be picked out.
• Long skirts are sexy: I remember when my school banned short skirts; there was a lot of uproar from the girls who felt ‘frumpy’ because they were made to wear longer skirts (I think the rule was ‘no shorter than three inches above the knee’, so not actually that long…) but my skin-tight, just-below-the-knee-length pencil skirt was completely within the rules.
• People who make fun of your appearance are worthless: I was bullied for a long time when I was younger. About a year ago I was in the bathroom of a club, washing my hands. A couple of girls from my old school were there, they were looking at me, pointing and laughing. I looked over at them and for the first time I felt nothing… I didn’t feel ashamed or embarrassed, I just felt a little bit sad for them.
• ‘You’re so brave!’: I had a lot of people say this, or variations of this to me. I think the hardest part of dressing vintage, or dressing in any alternative style, is the mental part. You have to take a deep breath and walk out of the house dressed how you want to. The best way to do this is to start small and work up. Don’t change it all at once, do it step by step- and if you’re really scared then start low-key. I know that I starter with light pink lipstick and gradually moved my way to deep red. You can do anything you want, just take it bit by bit. Being brave with my appearance helped to make me brave in other areas of my life.

’til next time,

Wren x

5 Ways to Be Nice to a Retail Worker This Holiday Season

1. Remember that we don’t get time off over the holidays. No matter how stressed or frustrated you are, you are currently out shopping and not at work. So please, try and show some consideration for us poor bastards who have miss family events and celebrations in order to restock margarine. Taking an extra second to be polite or even to treat us like Real People will be remembered and appreciated.
2. We are humans: ergo we can only move and talk at a certain speed. Yeah, I’m looking at you, the woman rolling her eyes as she waits for me to serve the three other people in front of her. If you’re running late/in a hurry then you need to get better organisational skills, it’s not my problem. I’m working as fast as I can to get through the queue and make sure everyone else gets decent service.
3. Don’t be a dick. “I thought I’d give you some work to do/you looked bored.” Is frustrating at best and insulting at worst. I get this several times EVERY SHIFT when people look at the self checkout machines and then elect to come over to me. 97% of the time I’ve just had to deal with a massive queue/a spillage/an unhappy customer before you graced me with your presence. The look on my face is not boredom, it’s exhaustion.
4. We are not magicians. ‘The Back’ is not a magical wonderland, it’s not Narnia or Mary Poppins’ carpet-bag. It’s the place where we put the things that won’t fit on the shelves. We check it regularly and restock three or four times during the day. If it’s not on the shelf then it won’t be in ‘The Back’. In 18 months of being a supermarket dogsbody I have NEVER found something in ‘The Back’ that isn’t already well stocked on the shop floor.
5. We have been customers too. Yes, we understand that it’s annoying to come a long way and find out that we’ve run out of something, or that we don’t stock it, we actually do understand these problems and sympathise with you. We understand that some things are overpriced, we understand the queues are long, we understand that this is a stressful and busy time of the year. Sadly life is not fair, we have to deal with these problems just as much as you do. Yes it sucks, no, we can’t change the world.

’til next time,

Wren x

 

I’M ALIVE: Photographic Evidence…

An Update

Wow, it’s been a slightly crazy week (or so- not actually sure when I last posted something) but my absence this time is due to many, many mad and exciting things happening, so I don’t think I can be blamed for that 😉

Firstly I had a little jaunt down to London for an interview at Queen Mary’s University- as per usual I did something to embarrass myself- this time it was standing up and doing an improvised, mimed workout routine during the middle of the interview- bear in mind that the interview consisted on me and one woman sat in a small office- I was stood there casually doing squats whilst my brain screamed at me to STOP IT AND SIT DOOOOOWN!!! Which I eventually did… she seemed to take it pretty well and laughed instead of giving me a horrified stare so I think I got away with it 🙂

Once the interview was done I met up with the Father Bear who took me for a burger in Wetherspoons and then twas onwards back up to Yorkshire- but not before I managed to take out half a tube carriage (seriously, blame whichever moron put the bloody handrails on the ceiling- means that although trains and Londoners stop moving at each station midgets do not…)

Journey back involved me desperately trying to do the last of my psychology revision (exam this Wednesday… argh!) which I eventually managed, even despite the rocking of the train and my random nausea.

Thursday saw me getting my head down to pick out some monologues in preparation for my Guildhall and RADA auditions- it also saw me finding the light in the end of the tunnel regarding my singing woes, this light came in the form of Tybalt (AKA the god of musicals) who eased me through finding my range and told me which musicals to avoid using songs from- all I need to do now is firm up my choice of song and get over my serious singing phobia 😦

Then, on Friday the 11th of January I turned 18- oh yeah, the big one-eight! I celebrated in style by falling asleep in psychology (whilst sat opposite the teacher- apparently she and the rest of the class just stared at me for a couple of minutes until I woke up and then laughed at me…) and then we wandered down to the chippy for birthday chips 😀 and I nipped into the shop and bought ALCOHOL! The dude on the till was lovely and wished me a happy birthday, I was all cheery and excited, my mood was only improved by bumping into my primary school headteacher as I left the shop with my carrier bag full of booze- he stared at me for a while before seemingly recognising me and then staring at my drinky in shock.

We ended up down in drama with chips and other lovely things, I then spent the afternoon chilling on the sofas in sixth form with my lovely friends and Tybalt + Benvolio.

*deep breath*

THEN I spent a little time afterschool down in drama with Mercutio and Romeo messing around with wheely chairs and broom handles (minds out of the gutter please…) before wandering home to open my lovely, lovely presents and then going out for pizza with some more of my friends- the only bad moment of the day was when I mistook someone walking past us for my friend Bee, who took her own life about two months ago- I hadn’t thought about it much lately and so that was a real shock to the system.

After pizza I went and bought more alcohol and then we all went and played on the swings in the park (classy, I know) and then made our way back to our respective homes.

… yeah, it doesn’t end there…

There’s still my party to write about, that was last night- but I think I’m going to try and get some fun pictures off of Cee before I try and write about that…

So there we are, just wanted to get anyone who cares up to date on my life and promise you that interesting things are on their way! I’m carrying on with the Pagan Blog Project (bloody hell- can’t believe I’ll have been doing that for about a year!)

’til next time,

Wren x

 

The Year of The Living

So, now we’ve reached New Year (Celtic New Year: 1st November) I feel it’s time to reflect a little on the past year and all the craziness that came with it.

Last Samhain was a little dismal for me, I tried to meditate to talk to my loved ones and was pushed away-  I tried to welcome in the spirits but none came, I begged the Gods to tell me why my natural affiliation with the dead seemed to have crumbled and faded and the response I received was stark and honest:

“You’ve done death- now it’s time to do life.”

The Gods told me in pretty plain terms that I was closer to the dead than the living, that I was barely alive- that’s not a message that I will ever forget receiving and one that hit me like few things have. I’d been drifting through life without putting down roots, I’d spent all my time preserving things and being ready to die at any moment.

Looking back I see myself as a sort of ghost- it’s really hard and really weird to think of how I used to be, but now I know exactly why the Gods did what they did and I’m grateful.

I’ve spent this last year living- to be honest it got off to a pretty rough start with me trying to find out where I stood in terms of my Go To Guy and my place as the fifth wheel (literally) of my friendship group (according to Jay I win some sort of prize for being a seventh wheel at one point.) But around May time I really started to come out of my shell, I reached a point where I felt confident and good about myself, I began to relax majorly around men and let my life flow as it should.

It was around this time that I got Juliet- WOOOO! And made a decision about what I wanted to do in life (acting ftw :P) I piddled along until June when I went on holiday, survived falling down a mountain, being ferried around in The Hearse and an amazing midnight car journey across the UK.

When I got back and steamed into summer I started wandering around with my friends until the small hours, getting into vintage and starting to become comfortable with sex.

This lead to my first kiss, spending the night with a guy and becoming a strong, independent woman. I got my amazing ADA grades, partied with the best of them (read: EPIC MILK EXPEDITION/’THE QUEST FOR MILK’) and hit the ground running at the start of term.

Since then my life has been taken over with a hell of a lot of R+J and even more snogging (I’m really not complaining) interspersed with partying and general good times of which I totally rocked… I fired my CAMHS nurse and demanded a proper evaluation which I shall be getting in a couple of weeks, I took control of my illness and have decided to consider the idea of formally quitting self harm.

To make a long story short, I have to say that after a rocky start I took the advice given to me by my Gods and started living. I can stand up say that I am a real person, a real flesh and blood person with a life and loved ones and spirit and soul… I am no longed a ghost.

Hope you all had a blessed Samhain and a Happy New Year!

A thousand times goodnight 🙂

Wren x

The Tonsillitis Chronicles

So last Friday I came down with the most annoying disease known to man/woman/actress- by Monday I couldn’t eat solids (I know, it was grim) the last thing I had to eat was a banana on Monday lunchtime and from then on in it was milk, milk and more bloody milk.

I was getting about three hours sleep a night and (obviously) eating no food, this all added together to mean that I felt incredibly shit and emotional. I honestly don’t know how I got through rehearsals, only that everyone was lovely and looked after me (weirdly I had very few people questioning why I was drinking pints of milk straight from the carton… actors are a strange bunch.)

I finally broke my boycott on the doctors and marched myself down there on Tuesday. I had to wait 40 minutes and when I got in there got asked what was the matter, to which I replied ‘I can’t swallow!’ and burst into tears. I blame it on the fact I hadn’t slept for about four days.

The best part had to be when she asked me if I was okay as she ‘couldn’t help noticing’ that I had a lot of CAMHS stuff on my notes. Part of me was touched that she should care (most doctors breeze over it) but the other part of me was slightly annoyed that because I looked like a weak wibbling little mental. I calmly explained that the reason I was crying was that I was in extreme pain (for those of you who haven’t had it tonsillitis feels like you have a large piece of glass lodged in your throat and means even swallowing your own saliva becomes a minefield of pain.) I think I kind of threw her off when I laughed (genuinely, not bitterly) and said I was wondering how long it would take her to realise I was a nutter.

The whole thing was pretty hilarious, if you exclude the fact that I couldn’t swallow my own saliva for about three days without being in extreme pain, and trust me when I say I’m not a wimp when it comes to pain. Anyway, after 24 hours when the pills had started to kick in myself and some of the cast took a little evening excursion to see a production of ‘Bouncers’ which was completely awesome. Romeo stole some milk for me and I participated in a standing ovation with one other person which was quite terrifying, haha.

stolen milk…. mmm….

Thankfully now the pills have really started to take effect and I’m back on solids! Oh yeah, I ate my very first piece of solid food yesterday lunchtime, it was a tuna and cucumber sandwich and I’m not ashamed to say that I was eaten in silence with my eyes closed- and yes, it tasted amazing.

All I’ve got to do now is wait until I’m not infectious and then it’ll be time to rehearse THAT scene… oh yes, you know what I’m talking about.

’til next time,

Wren x

Results Day

I could have written a wittier title but I feel that there’s no point in being coy.

Needless to say I didn’t sleep very much the other night- I think I got about three hours in total which was rather horrible. I got up out of bed at about three in the morning, opened my window,  lit a candle and got my tarot cards out.

Had a fairly telling spread- wheel of fortune, the chariot and then the knight of wands reversed. I’m hoping for some good luck at the moment.

When I finally managed to get to bed I had some very vivid dreams- I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this here before but after my big meditation a few weeks ago I’ve been having the most graphic dreams. They’re starting to wane a little now, but it’s been amazing to dream again after years and years of nightmares and fearing sleep.

Anyway, I grumpily got out of bed, showered, dressed and marched through the nasty muggy weather to school only to find that they’d locked the back gate which meant I had to walk all the bloody way around the school (I wanted to cry, I was actually on the verge of tears for quite a while) I was daring the sky to break and have the massive thunderstorm it seemed to want. So far it’s been taunting me by not complying.

I got in and got hold of my envelope. I milled around a little and chatted to people before being told by my best friend Cee that everyone had done badly in philosophy- she’d gotten a D- so I went and spoke to Sir who told me that he needed me to sign something, note that at this point I still hadn’t opened my envelope and found out my grades, so I played ‘guess my results’ with him and came out a little above my expectations- I guessed an E overall and he said it was a D- small victories my friends, small victories!

From chatting to people it was made abundantly clear that we were all screwed- one of my friends has properly, completely failed everything- most people got Cs and Ds and so on- which was terrifying for me as I feared my obsessive, neurotic revision was all for naught (seriously, I didn’t have an Easter holiday, I spent two weeks watching Film4 and doing revision- I didn’t even have time to do my bloody homework.)

Me and some friends got dragged outside by a photographer for the local paper to have our pictures taken- so I shall be in the local rag next Thursday! If you’re lucky and I’m feeling relaxed about the whole anonymity thing I may post you a glorious photo of my exhausted and slightly nauseous mug. An interesting note for the photo is that the other three people in it are holding their results whereas I’m holding a resit form, ahahah.

I eventually sidled off home and decided that I would put the results to one side and spend the afternoon being nice to myself. I made a glorious banana sandwich and sat down to read some fanfiction. Oh yeah, that’s my idea of a relaxing afternoon 😉

(I should also add that I followed up the sandwich with a slice of chocolate cake… I figured I might as well push the boat out.)

The afternoon wore on quite pleasantly, the little brown envelope tucked under my sewing machine with reaching distance but well out of my mind.

Eventually my Ma came home, she ragged me out slightly for not opening my envelope which honestly pissed me off, with the amount of people I’d seen get bad results it was realistic to expect that mine would be less than brilliant and quite frankly I wanted to have a nice day before the inevitable bad results were revealed and I was left wondering what the hell I was going to do with the rest of my life.

My Dad and brother went of leafleting (did I mention that I ended up sat folding leaflets the night before results as a kind of desperate therapy?) and I kind of snapped. I went up to my room, I felt so sick and I ended up standing by the window sobbing for about ten seconds (I cry all the time- not in front of people, but I honestly tear up so much! Apparently it makes me a good actress though so *shrugs* swings and roundabouts.)  Before I dried my eyes, gave myself a little talking to and gently, inch by inch, pulled my results from the envelope.

I had the usual ‘what-the-crap-do-all-these-numbers-mean-and-where-are-my-results’ panic before staring in a kind of stupor at the massive letters printed on the page.

I already knew I had a D in philosophy so it was just history and psychology in the balance- including the philosophy results I got:

that’s ADA- forgive the crappy focus, I took the photo by my bedside light 😛

Oh yeah, at this point I kind of forgot to breathe and ended up hyperventilating in a very unattractive manner as I stumbled down the stairs to show my Ma. I’m still in shock honestly; I just didn’t expect it from what had happened to everyone else.

My GCSEs went so badly with my mentalness, it was honestly a really horrible time for me and getting the results for those was awful, I had to look at the extent of what my mental illness had done to me. I tried so bloody hard for these and it was a huge relief to see that all that hard work had paid off.

Right now I feel like I can relax for the first time in ages- so I’m going to pop off and get some sleep (I’m writing this on Thursday evening) I’ve got a busy few days coming up and I’m going to need it.

’til next time,

Wren x

Seven Things About Me Award

Wow, haha- I don’t know what to say! Massive thanks to the amazing Lucy for nominating me for this award. Go check out her blog now!

Here are the rules of accepting the award:

1. Thank the blogger who nominated you.
2. Share seven things about yourself.

1. I think I may be becoming a Bellowhead groupie… not sure if I should be worried about this…

2. When I’m walking home alone late at night and there’s no-one else around I dance- my favourite thing is to do the Charleston all the way up the middle of the main road 😉

from here: http://deliciousdance.blogspot.co.uk/2011/12/saturdays-holiday-swing-dance-thursdays.html

3) My obsession with the 1940s has gotten to such a point that I’m starting to dress in vintage (repro) 24/7. My aim for the summer is to build up my wardrobe to a point where I never have to wear non 40s clothing.

That’s me on the left… keeping busy 😉 (from here: http://www.britmovie.co.uk/films/Passport-to-Pimlico/)

4) I stand at the grand height of 5ft 1″ (and 1/4) feel free to take the piss and/or randomly point my lack of height out to me at random moments.

I’M A GIANT! (note the revision posters on the wall in the background…)

5) This October (18th to be precise) I’m playing Juliet in a *cough’mature’cough* production of Romeo and Juliet. Apparently this means I get smacked across the face and have to put my tongue in my co-star’s mouth… repeatedly. And no, I’m not exaggerating about the tongue thing.

6) I love Most Haunted. You can say what you like but it won’t change the fact that it’s one of my favourite programmes! Me and my brother used to watch it on sunday afternoons together for about a year… sleep tight 😉

7) When I finish school next year I plan to go on a pilgrimage to Glastonbury Tor, it’s something I’ve been planning for three years now.

from here: http://www.metro.co.uk/news/48571-a-sight-for-tor-eyes

3. Nominate other bloggers you think deserve the award, and post on their blog to let them know they’ve been nominated.

Right, here goes:

http://writingsofapaganwitch.wordpress.com/

http://witchchic.wordpress.com/

http://misdiagnosisdotcom1.wordpress.com/

http://paganpair.wordpress.com/

So thanks again to Lucy and everyone who reads this blog… yeah, I’m going to go and do all the other stuff I should be doing at the moment, haha!

’til next time,

Wren x

The Black Dog Is Back

So… I seem to be kind of absent from blogging at the moment (with the exclusion of Pagan Fridays) and if you’ve been reading this blog for a while you may be able to guess why… that’s right. I’m depressed.

I’ve been putting off saying that for a few days- I’ve been feeling off for about a week or so, but it really kicked in around Sunday and these past few days have been hell. It’s just getting worse and worse and I don’t know what to do.

I’m still waiting for CAMHS to get back to me- it’s been nearly five months. I can’t do this much longer and part of me’s just really scared.

I’m trying to do what I’ve been doing for the past few months, just focussing on the little things- like tonight I got in to find an amazon package with my new CDs and I’ve got a sewing project to be getting on with.

I need some time off and a holiday, I just want to bake and sit in the garden and do simple, pointless stuff instead of having to sit in a classroom and concentrate when all I want to do is yell at the teachers.

I missed my period this month which only happens when I’m seriously stressed or depressed, and it was meant to come around the time when I got back from Italy and I sure as hell wasn’t stressed then *sigh*

For some reason I’m really angry at the moment- like really, really angry. I’m not usually an angry person, I’m actually pretty mellow. It takes a lot to make me angry- but at the moment I’m a total bitch. One of my teachers ignored me when I went to answer something even though I was sat in front of her with my hand raised so I turned my chair away from her and spent the whole lesson reading a book. I didn’t look at her or do the work she asked us to do (to be fair I have an ongoing thing with this teacher anyway so that was just the icing on the cake.)

My appearance is sliding a little- I’m desperately trying to remedy that by dressing more formal and wearing more make-up. I’m sleeping far too much- I usually get about seven hours a night but am now getting around eleven and still feeling shit. I feel like I’m made out of lead at the moment.

To top off all this shit-ness I came in from school, took my shoes off, walked down the hall to the kitchen and managed to walk into the skirting board and break my little toe. And yes, it is broken, I felt it to check and… actually, you don’t want to know what I felt, just trust me when I say it was both incredibly painful and rather grim.

I’ve managed to break pretty much all my toes in the course of my life through doing gymnastics and being generally clumsy, so this isn’t a new thing for me- it’s just really, really annoying.

*Sigh*

I leave you with pretty sunset pictures from the Solstice 🙂

’til next time,

Wren x