The Past Is As Much Of A Predictor Of The Future As A Black Hole


I have left an inexcusable amount of time between this and my last post. I am undisciplined in the extreme and I have worked out that blogging is not an easy thing to keep up with on a long-term basis. Most genuinely rewarding activities aren’t.

I hope whoever may read this is okay. That is an infuriatingly nebulous term, I know, and completely subjective. But we all have our own concept of okay. I hope you’re meeting yours.

I want to talk about something very briefly: THE PAST.

The past troubles me a lot. I constantly think that I have wasted vast swathes of my life on my phone, in my bed, chasing after boys and shallow friendships. This is probably true.


My old counsellor told me something of value, and it is only now I am paying attention to what it actually means.

The longer you spend mourning the mistakes of the past, the longer you continue doing them.

This is so very true. The longer you spend mourning the damage you have done to yourself, the longer you continue to inflict damage. Every day spent angry about the past is another day you LOSE to the past.

I am sad now about all the time I have allowed myself to waste, when I could have developed skills, qualifications, experiences, genuine relationships!!! All the time I allowed to become redundant.

But I will be much sadder when I look back at this period of self-loathing, added on top of the years of waste that came before. So, what can I do?

Force myself to make change. Force myself to lock the phone away. Force myself to paint, read, swim, walk, resist the bad food and attention-seeking and self-deprecation. FORCE MYSELF!!! Then, it becomes easier.

I love you. Goodnight.

Wanting to die/ Dealing with your guilt

Trigger warning: I mention some horrible mistakes I have made that you might have too, I mention guilt, I mention suicidal thoughts in a blunt manner and I also tell you that suicide is not the answer, which may be the last thing you want to hear right now if you are in a particularly bad way (I still suggest in this case that you force yourself to read this).


This is quite taboo. Though, I think the fact that I am writing about this should be more comforting than alarming. If I am in the position to be able to put this into words and I have a platform on which to do so, then I am in a better position than I could be, sitting alone, allowing unexamined and petrifying thoughts to stagnate in my mind.

I have suffered from suicidal thoughts and, more generally, intrusive thoughts. A bad thing will happen to me and the only way I can describe its effect is like opening a pen full of crazed chickens: a whole pack of horrible and unpleasant thoughts and assumptions start flapping around in my mind, knocking things over, spraying feathers everywhere and shitting on everything. I feel a tidal wave of anger and sadness rise in me, probably one of the most unpleasant emotion combinations. The best kind of anger is rooted in indignation and injustice, the worst kind of anger is rooted in sadness and loss.

I tend to look on the unpleasant side of life more than I do the pleasant side. It may seem externally as if this really isn’t the case, but anyone who has known me well will know that I am very easily convinced that things are just not worth putting effort into. I am easily jaded by life. I have made a habit of suspecting people (and being rather spiteful to them) over the littlest things and becoming demotivated after the littlest of setbacks. I love a good conspiracy theory: ‘This person doesn’t actually love me, they’re actually trying to ruin my life, so I am going to manipulate everything that they do henceforth in order to support this theory, which will then serve to convince me that it is objectively true because I have ‘concrete’ evidence, and I will successfully chase this person out of my life’. This has interfered in my close relationships quite a lot and, understandably, brought a lot of aggravation to those who primarily want to love and look after me.

I say this with an element of shame, as I am ashamed and disheartened by my tendency towards this behaviour. I do not like the limitations it has posed and continues to pose on my life. I don’t want to be, nor ever, ever imagined myself being, a bitter and lonely person. I always looked at myself as being vibrant, funny and compassionate. I feel betrayed and disgusted when I notice the incongruence between who I want to be and who I actually have been over the past couple of years.

This is where I am going to begin to be compassionate with myself. I am going to do the most compassionate thing a person can do, which is to try to understand something which is difficult to understand in another person. After all, if you do not understand something, you cannot forgive it.

If you believe you are not worthy of something, then you will always fulfil this prophecy. I have enacted this many times and in many ways, so I think I am qualified enough to say that there is some truth in it. My thoughts were gearing me towards failure and abandonment before my actions could even catch up. I underestimated the power of my thoughts, criminally. I was beating myself up in every single way I could in my mind, and then expecting myself to be able to go forth and love people. How was I supposed to resist the most pervasive and insidious form of bullying there is, the bullying we do of ourselves? This was an impossible demand. I could not make a positive difference in the way I treated others without making a positive difference in the way I treated myself. The way I treated both continued to be very lacking.

That being said, there was an element of choice in all of this, on my behalf. I was selfish. I had sold an image of myself that I desperately wanted to be true, that I was deeply intelligent, brooding, somewhat traumatised but ultimately strong, triumphant and hilarious. I wanted to be adored for all of these qualities I admired but did not actually notice in myself. I knew that this was not me. Not at all. This is not to say that I was worse or even better than this description (it is all subjective anyways). I just know that this was not me. I was lying, which I do have an unfortunate penchant for doing when it suits my agenda.

In the end, I had managed to get the person that I wanted in my life, into my life and loving me. Scrap what I just said then, the plan was a SUCCESS!!

Absolutely not. I began to resent them (and several other people who came into my life, too, in fact), because they loved someone else. I felt betrayed by them, that they were sharing such a key part in my life and my experiences and demanded so much of my trust, only because someone else had pulled them in. I was angry! But out of sadness, so it was the most destructive form of anger. It reinforced my earlier thought patterns (see, it’s all cyclical) that I was not good enough, that I was useless, that no one could ever love me for me and that everyone in my life was just as fake as I was. What I did fail to realise was that I was inflating my own ego, massively. I couldn’t keep up a convincing act for that long and for every moment. Not even the best actor could. The people in my life may have been ensnared by an image (as people often are at first), but they proceeded to gain admiration and fondness for who I genuinely was. They were actually being extremely kind for sticking around to see the figure underneath all the cloaks and learning to love this new, authentic creature. I didn’t need to be so angry and upset with them. I needed to be thankful for their time and effort.

I must mention suicidality and guilt now. It is all good and well me realising all this, and telling you about it, but it all seems too late. Maybe not for you, but for me. Maybe it feels too late for you, too. I have all sympathy with the hollow, aching feeling you might get as you notice the behaviours I have mentioned above in yourself, and kick yourself for not realising at the time how much havoc it was wreaking on your life. You may be in a terrible place right now, full of anger and hatred towards yourself. It is horrible when it feels there is no one else to blame apart from yourself. Let me assure you, I have chased lots of people away, probably for good, been an absolute asshole, publicly and privately, and continue to fall into the same old traps, despite me seeing the devastation they can cause, for momentary gratification and selfishness. It is a deeply entrenched defence mechanism that I can’t seem to shake, nor do I really want to: I am attached to the emotionally unstable, brooding, romantic figure I have concocted, despite the fact that she has never brought anything secure into my life.

All this considered, I have come to the conclusion that it would be too difficult and humbling for me to try and work through all this, and to accept that I may not actually be deserving of some people or, in fact, right for them. I have decided on several occasions it would be better if I kill myself. I have weighed up (in an extremely myopic way) the pros and cons of doing such a thing and often found that I am sympathetic with the side of exterminating myself.

This may seem so stupid and unnecessary to some. I am 18 years old, I have the world at my feet, I have people to fall in love with in the future, I have real-life devastation to weather, I am naive and inexperienced, I am hormonal, I have, I have, I am, I am.

There was a reason why I included ‘Dealing with your guilt’ in the title, above anything else I talk about. I cannot give you a generalised reason for why people do not cope, even when ostensibly it seems as if they have lots and lots going for them, but I can give you mine. This will not be the case for everyone, but it certainly is for me:


I have always, always, struggled with guilt as an emotion. I had a vile temper as a child and I would get into ruts of anger that were full of expanding blood vessels, hoarse shouting, choking tears and pushing my brother into various objects (sorry Bill). I could deal with all this. I had moments of immense sadness, too. I would mope about the house, about 8 years old (children really do suffer from bad mental health too, don’t be fooled), telling my mum that I ‘didn’t want to be here anymore’ and that I was going to find a way to climb onto the roof and throw myself off it. Genuinely a true story.

It is not always this dramatic or romantic. Sometimes suicidal thoughts come as you are sat on the toilet, hunched over, crust around your eyes and your hair tangled, feeling ultimately useless. You can’t even get up off the toilet you feel so useless, you would rather it sucked you in through its system of pipes and spat you out into some body of refuse somewhere.

I could deal with a lot of emotions as a child and even now, but guilt is always the one that catches me out. And guilt is what I feel a lot these days. It comes and goes in intensity but it is always there, a sponge in my stomach waiting to absorb and fill up and bloat me out until I am one big, sad, sopping ball of guilt. Guilt is the perfect emotion to trigger suicidal thoughts. Guilt means you did something wrong. Guilt means you need to avenge this wrong. Guilt means you need to be punished, that you need to suffer. Guilt in the right intensity can make you feel extremely violent towards yourself, in a way that deep blue sadness and bright red anger cannot do. It can be added on top of any emotion, too, you can even feel guilty ABOUT your emotions. Guilt intensifies everything. Guilt is blooming purple and it wants to bruise every untouched part of you it can.

But it doesn’t have to. Guilt is vile and evil in so many ways, by far the most horrible emotion. However, it is the simplest to combat. You begin to diminish it once you realise this:

We are humans, not machines. Our judgement is rarely ever objective and we often act according to deep desires and fears that are too painful and evasive to consciously confront. We developed our coping mechanisms at a much simpler time: childhood. Our fears and upsets would have been kept at bay by these mechanisms and they provided a real and necessary purpose at one time, even if they seem grotesque and horribly unfair now. You are not depraved, you are human! You are not vile, you are human! You are not ‘messed up’, you are human! If we had the ‘right’ option and the ‘wrong’ option in front of us at any given time, it is likely that we would choose the right path. It is not that simple.

It will never be that simple. Don’t reduce the complexity of your mind and everyone else’s mind down to wrong and right because you never will garner a realistic depiction of how things occurred. You react to your circumstances in the best way you were able to at the time. Right now, you have manifold tools and perspectives that you simply could not have had and did not have at the time. Hindsight is a wonderful thing because it is allowed by the mistake you made. If you didn’t make the mistake, you wouldn’t have the hindsight. Doing bad things does not make you a bad person, it means you did not have the tools to react well to a situation at the time. Doing good things meant something was within your capacity to deal with healthily and sensibly. BUT DO YOU KNOW WHAT?!?! I WILL EMBOLDEN THIS PART BECAUSE IT IS SO IMPORTANT: BECAUSE OF THE MESS YOU HAVE MADE AND THE SUFFERING THAT HAS RESULTED, YOU NOW HAVE THE TOOLS.

You are a better person simply because you have gone through this pain. You are a more sensitive person because you have gone through this pain. You cannot see it but there will be a point when you can and you will be so grateful your heart got broken because now you have so many more tools in your arsenal and so many more options you can take when that difficult situation arises again. It is not your fault that you developed the way you did, but now you have recognised your mistakes, you have the chance to affect your development from this point onwards. That is the beauty of growing up.

I love you.

Don’t die. Guilt is a circus mirror, it is deceptive and ridiculous.

Email me if you want, I’m always here !!!


Letting go


I went to a yoga class last night, centring upon the idea of ‘letting go’. This act is very unlike me; doing anything productive that contributes positively to my mental health is something I tend to frown cynically upon. “I am hopeless, what is the point?” I moan at myself while caressing the doughy globe of my stomach after a pasta binge (myself and pasta have an extremely complex and somewhat erotic relationship, I will explain this maybe on my deathbed).

yellow pasta beside onions

The incense and various essential oils streamed their ribbons through the air and I felt their tendrils embracing me. My schema was informing me that I would be in for lots of deep breathing and some stretching. I was excited: letting go is the exhale, it is a release of pressure. It doesn’t require the strength or concentration it takes to suck the world in through a straw. It is the sending of things from their cage inside of you back to where they belong. It is liberation!

It turned out to be far more strenuous than I anticipated. It all comes together as I am writing this, how symbolic my thought process and its jarring with reality was. I, like a lot of other people, thought letting go was an easy thing to do. I also thought, until recently, that the need to let go was an easy thing to detect. I took the concept of objective lucidity for granted. I didn’t know that love and other emotions make you behave in counter-intuitive ways. I thought that I would be able to see when something was futile and respect myself enough to stop spending precious energy on trying to prop it up, fill it out, cure it, etc.

It is the holding on that’s the hardest, surely?

If this is the only nugget of wisdom my whole life experience thus far has crystallised to, then so be it: letting go is harder than holding on.

Holding on is what we are used to. Holding on gives the possibility that the line will be tugged back one day, when we will feel it and be encompassed again in the world we have been staring at through a glass pane for so long. It is the clinging to the stain of something long after it has vaporised. It is the falling in love with something romantically abstract and utopian- an idea, a possibility. Holding on maintains a connection and a connection, no matter how excruciatingly painful, is more attractive than having none. You cannot blame yourself for this; it is wired into us to want to seek connections with those around us and particularly those we are already familiar with. Evolutionarily speaking, we are safer in packs than when we are alone.

Dropping this connection might feel like propelling yourself into space. You have infinite amounts of beautiful freedom now, but you are forever cut off from an old life you have told yourself you need above anything. We are anchored and defined and encaged by the thing we cling on to, whatever that may be.

I, personally, cling to my childhood luxuries in spite of the character building they prevent from happening. I fumble around for the safety net my family have always duly held up around me, whenever it goes dark. I am holding on to the remedies of the past because they were of use when I was at my most vulnerable, childhood. They are not good for me as an adult who needs to develop and self-actualise, and I recognise this, but I still hold on because being encaged is far less scarier for me than being free.

Letting go is hard. Extremely hard. Strenuous. Scary. Anxiety-inducing. Deceptive. As I promised myself in this class that I would let go of my guilt, of the people who no longer wanted me in their life, of missed opportunities, of my grief, of my selfishness, of the future I had planned, of so many things, a phantom limb feeling bubbled somewhere. I was missing something and my neural pathways were still trying to grab for it, something to give my life its old structure and purpose again. I felt like I was losing my identity.

This old structure and purpose was making me unhappy. It has no place for me now, it has shut me out. Still, I have a form of Stockholm Syndrome for it. I am clinging on to a locked box hoping that, eventually, it will ping open and shower me in jewels. I know deep down that it is empty.

I will talk more about this and hopefully better convey where I am coming from, but I hope that this has triggered a thought process inside of you. You need to let go of what you are clinging to. Stop clinging on to the withered clump of flowers because they were once beautiful. You know deep down you cannot save them, you would have already succeeded if you could. I am asking you to let it go, whatever it is that is holding you back THAT YOU CAN’T CHANGE. I am asking you to do the hardest yet most beneficial thing and drop it. Don’t allow yourself to dwell on it anymore. Remove the evidence of it in your life. Block it. Replace it with something that does not fill you with unmet desires and smouldering bitterness.

LET IT GO!!!!!!! *cue Frozen*

Please read if you are distressed


This is how I would like to look when I am feeling depressed (minus several inches of hair):

Photo on 30-01-2016 at 22.37 #4

This is how I actually look when I am feeling depressed (sudocrem and all):

Photo on 29-03-2018 at 12.39

It is hard to ignore the difference in my eyes between the pictures, and I am (can you believe it) not referring to the godawful eye makeup.

Even if you feel and ostensibly seem ‘okay’, I am of the opinion that, in all of us, there is some core belief or fear that has the capability of making us miserable again, or of emerging in the form of some self-sabotaging behaviour. So, regardless of if you believe you are just fine, or if you are sobbing uncontrollably, or if you are very angry, or if you are just numb, I can assure you of two things that are objectively and statistically true right now:

  1. Someone else in the world is going through this exact feeling, right at this moment.
  2. This feeling will pass.

Notice how I say the feeling will pass, not the thing that is making you sad. I will elaborate on what I mean later.

I have suffered from issues with my mental health. I won’t say ‘bad’ mental health, as I believe that ‘bad’ as a word implies something inherently wicked or broken, as opposed to a fluctuating, subjective state.  To me, it can also give the indication of something that is chosen (which is rather crude considering that our genetic makeup, childhood upbringing, neurochemistry and other factors out of our control affect our behaviour), as well as something that is fixed and unsalvageable. You are not choosing to feel like this any more than I chose to be born with brown hair. However, like I have chosen to dye my hair a strange orange hue (that might have been less of a choice and more of the result of some stubborn henna but for the sake of the self-help wisdom that can be garnered from it, I am deciding it was a choice), you can choose to help yourself out of this horrible feeling. I know you don’t think you can, and that is part of the feeling of helplessness and hopelessness that makes depression, in particular, so awful and insurmountable. You genuinely feel as if you are not going to get any better, and that once you have known this darkness, you will be unreceptive to and uninterested in any light ever again. You want to shun everything good or beat it like a piñata until its rotten core drops out and you can defensively claim, ‘AHA! I KNEW IT ALL ALONG, I PREDICTED YOU WOULD BE LIKE THIS! I WILL NEVER BE HURT BY YOU, OR ANYONE, EVER AGAIN!’. You learn to treat happiness with scepticism or sheer dismissiveness, for the fact that it tends to disintegrate to reveal hopeless darkness just as you have started to believe in it.

Any existence with depression, regardless of whether that be a relatively productive or a relatively sedentary one, is not an existence I would condemn anyone to. Certainly not anyone I love, and I love you (I will also explain briefly later why I love you, you will just have to take it for now).

Do not get me wrong. We are supposed to be sad, just as much as we are supposed to be happy. Sadness is way more similar to the commonly used term ‘depressive realism’ than depression is, as it is a reasonable and realistic response to life’s pressures and challenges. But depression is not the same as sadness. They are different in many ways. I think the clearest of these differences is this one:

Sadness has an expiry date. Sadness also relies upon the recollection of happiness. Sadness and happiness co-exist because they are light and shade.

Depression eats up memories of your happiness. Happiness isn’t the partner of depression, it is its sworn enemy. Depression eats up your future, so you can’t see it anymore and, even worse than that, you don’t want to see it anymore, lest it contain anything as unpleasant as the way you feel now.

You don’t deserve this, and you cannot listen to your reasons for why you do. You are depressed, therefore your thinking is skewed. There is no objectivity to your judgements of yourself, or of the world. Nearly all of depression (apart from rare cases where it is purely an imbalance in neurochemistry alone) comes out of a skewed view of the world, and this is supported by hundreds upon hundreds of studies into depression by manifold experts on the condition.

Life has hardships and challenges. We must accept that we can never escape from the possibility of having to go through these, otherwise, we simply would not be living at all. This is me going back to what I said earlier about the feeling passing, as opposed to the event. Whereas you cannot change the things that have already happened to you and the things you are unaware of now that will happen to you in the future, YOU CAN CHANGE YOUR RESPONSE TO THESE THINGS. BY ALLOWING YOU TO GIVE INTO A BLACK HOLE OF DESPAIR EACH TIME SOMETHING BAD HAPPENS TO YOU, DEPRESSION STOPS YOU FROM ACCEPTING THE NATURE OF LIFE AND, THEREFORE, STOPS YOU FROM LIVING. BY GRINDING IN YOUR HEELS AND REFUSING TO ACCEPT THE DARK ELEMENTS OF LIFE, YOU ARE, INEVITABLY, REFUSING TO ACCEPT THE BEAUTIFUL ELEMENTS. I capitalised and emboldened this part because if there is any aspect of this post you are going to read and actually absorb, I want it to be this bit.

I love you. No matter how ‘fucked up’ you are. I can tell you a badly kept secret: we all are. I love you because I know this, and, therefore, I can relate to you in a way I can relate with no other living thing. I love you, still, because I know that, simply by being human, you have just as much capability to do good as you have to do bad, and I am dazzled by that capability.

Bubbye + see u next time

Regretting the past/ bad health decisions


Regret, in its various forms, is a constant presence for me. I go through phases where it stops me from living a full life and phases where it’s barely even a speck on my happiness. At the moment, I am regretting (and obsessing over) how badly I have treated my body over the past couple of years, specifically the last year, in regards to alcohol, the foods I have allowed myself to binge on, lack of sleep, lack of exercise, etc, etc.

Harsh truth (I hate them as much as you do but it is like the monster under the bed, the more you avoid it out of fear, the bigger and more petrifying it becomes): You cannot go back and undo these bad decisions or the fact that they became habit for a relatively long-term period of time.

Long story short, we only have one vessel and it’s important we look after it to avoid nasty health conditions now and in the future. However, human nature and modern Western society make this very difficult. Efficiency and popularity tend to be a priority, often, and ignorantly, over health. School work or my close relationships have alternated as being the sole focus of my concern. Concerns over my health have been momentary and unexplored (again, like the monster under the bed) and chased away with the very comforts that cause the fear in the first place: bad food, drink, staying up the extra hour on my phone, etc.

What I failed to realise was that the ‘important’ aspects of my life all require physical health in order to reach their full potential. Treating your body and mind well is the ultimate act of self-love, and you cannot be a purposeful and productive human being without self-love. It’s impossible.

I have, admittedly, been heavily influenced by those around me. If my close friends’ (or boyfriend de jour’s) focus was not on their health, I would be likely to conform and engage in the damaging behaviours that they were, because it made it seem more okay to be doing it myself if they were. Also, I loved them and wanted to have fun with them; I didn’t want to be the one to dampen things with nagging health concerns or to miss out on fun opportunities because I was rigidly set on self-preservation.

It is never too late to start doing something positive. You can make a difference in whatever you do, even if it’s only a marginal one; doing things differently is BOUND to produce a different ending result. If it is in your power to make a small change tomorrow, such as cutting down on those two sugars you have in your coffee and only having one, or having a piece of fruit with your lunch, then it is in your power to make a difference to your health. Don’t be deceived! The power is in the SMALL acts of self-control, because they appear to be the least significant, but add up to astounding results.

To touch upon something that I have previously discussed in some length: guilt and regret are silly because we didn’t have the tools to be able to do anything different at the time to what we did. I used unhealthy food and habits as crutches because I didn’t see any others available to me, or didn’t think they’d help. I did not see the damage I was doing to myself, so I couldn’t have had the view I have now that I can detach myself and quantify this damage.

Beating yourself up for your mistakes is like seeing a scratch on a car and being so frustrated that you got the scratch that you drive distractedly and angrily all the way home and scratch it up even more. I am imploring you to love yourself enough to forgive your ill-informed decisions. Appreciate that they are done now. Appreciate that everyone has to deal with their past mistakes because everyone makes them. Appreciate them also for what they are in truth, not for the acts of pure evil that you magnify them to be.

We need more honesty and more kindness in the world when it comes to recognising our mistakes, because without these two skills we are NEVER going to move forward from them or make them right. Only worse!

I love you. Look after yourself, even if that ‘only’ starts tonight. Sleep as well as you can, eat as well as you can and be thankful for the option that you have been given to change things. Your life has not ended because of these decisions as you wouldn’t be reading this if it had, and I wouldn’t be writing this in the first place if my mistakes had ended me! I have been given the chance to change my ways and so have you. Let’s not focus on the damage and instead focus on the healing.


I don’t like it 2.0


I am being prolific these days. Lots of spare time and lots of bored Mae results in lots of exhibitionism. Enjoy!!

16) Waking up with a headache. Mornings are hard enough, yet alone combined with the aftereffects of having your head run over by a tractor.

17) Feeling guilty and not being able to do much about it.

18) Being hungry and no good food, only scraps and that dusty microwave meal that will definitely clog up the last bit of open space in your aorta and cause an imminent heart attack, being left in the house.

19) Finding out that someone attractive, with whom you’re getting on very well and have already pictured yourself travelling the world and starting a family with in a 10 second daydream collage, is already in a relationship.

20) Stubbing my toe, especially my little one, OH GOD THE NAUSEA.

21) Knowing people think something about you that isn’t true.

22) Knowing I have willingly allowed myself to be ripped off.

23) Having 20p to my name.

24) Really wanting to sleep but not being able to. A-tossin’ and a-turnin’ we go.

25) Having something in my eye, like an eyelash, and noticing it just as I’m about to fall asleep and therefore being far too tired to remove it effectively but then feeling it scratching against my retina every time my eyes begin to droop, preventing me from fully relaxing.

26) Knowing I have pushed someone away to the extent where a jar of Nutella will not fix it.

I don’t like it


Seeing that I’ve posted any more heavy stuff could well cause you to run away with hands clutching your jugular, croaking ‘don’t force me to swallow any more contrived self-help crap’…

It’s okay, I like being bitter and cynical from time to time as well.

I am going to spontaneously list things I don’t like as I come across them for a couple of days. I will try and justify why, but at times I will probably have no reason other than my general hatred for mankind. Here goes.

1) People who consume that specific, stinking kind of pre-packed plastic food in an enclosed space, causing the whole area to stink of sausage burps. I think I would rather suffer carbon monoxide poisoning, at least then you’re not aware that you’re being choked to death. Vile.

2) People who insist everything is a life lesson (lol @ me). Yes, lessons can be garnered from the most awful of experiences, but that doesn’t mean the whole thing can be reduced to something as cleanly instructive as a ‘lesson’. It can be pretty insulting to be told to focus only on the lesson aspect when the other parts of the experience are completely overwhelming and debilitating.

3) Dry hair (lol @ me). If looking at your hair makes me gasp for water like Jesus after 40 days and nights in the desert then there is something going very wrong. You owe it to yourself to hydrate those desiccated follicles.

4) Hypocrisy (this is just a mirror for my self-hatred).

5) People who allow you to continue your behaviour before they ‘snap’ all of a sudden and drop every tier of Dante’s inferno upon you, one by one. Speak up when you first get upset or angry instead of letting me blindly walk into your wrath! Let me know I am upsetting you while I am still able to do something to make it better!

6) Bad coffee aka watery potato broth.

man holding white teacup in front of gray laptop
As you can see, the man above has been sent mad by the discovery that he has been served with watery potato broth.

7) Bad breath in an individual I am forced to correspond with, even if for a brief period of time. I am not talking about normal bad breath- breath that falls within the average toxicity parameters- I am talking about the putridity that brings tears to your eyes and makes you think of the last time you told your parent you loved them. We have all been there.

8) Getting blamed for something I actually wasn’t responsible for.

9) Snoring (@ my dad). Depriving someone of sleep on a continual basis is an actual form of torture. Stop torturing the people you love and buy a nose stent for goodness’ sake.

10) Papery thin walls. If I can hear next door blowing their nose and telling Sammy to do his biology homework through the wall then we all might as well be in one big communal room. I can even help Sammy with his homework then.

11) Being tickled. It was okay back in the day but now I’m 18 years old it’s just unpleasant. And my pelvic floor isn’t what it used to be, I will wet myself.

12) When your hand stinks after stroking a friend’s dog. Why are you not washing your dog and how on earth do you give it the physical attention it deserves knowing your hand will arise afterwards smelling of decaying meat and regret.

animal blur canine chihuahua
This chihuahua smells like cinnamon, I can just tell

13) People who think drinking and taking drugs is cool, and do it for that reason alone, instead of, I don’t know, because they genuinely want and have reasons to.

14) Feeling lonely.

portrait of young woman using mobile phone in cafe
You know those ones where you have to get your phone out and call someone to signal to everyone that you do actually have someone who would care if you died

15) People who are painfully pretentious and unwavering about their music tastes. How can you know that you ‘definitely don’t like it’ IF YOU HAVE NEVER LISTENED TO IT- ARE YOU RAVEN? CAN MAN SEE INTO THE FUTURE? AAAAAAAARRRRRRGRRRGHHHH

bubbye + lots of love (and good luck for exams if you have them)