My First Month in New York…


Hello there, remember me? I’m that girl who told you I was moving to New York and then was never heard of again…

In actuality I did move to New York. About a month ago, and while I decided to take a break from writing about it for the first few weeks, I’m back. And I have a lot to say. Well, not that much to say. But quite a lot more to say than I would have about a month where all I did was watch The Good Wife and bake burger shaped cupcakes.

I have a bad habit of getting overly hopeful about the future. The running dialogue in my head normally goes ‘Well yes, things are bad now, but in a month/week/year/century they’re going to be amazing and everything’s going to be perfect and rainbows and unicorns’. And I was definitely thinking that way a before I came to New York. I was trying to prepare myself but I could only really imagine two situations. One where I was the happiest, most sane, put together, popular person who had ever stepped foot in Washington Square Park, and one where I was a compete wreck, cried every day and came home after a week. I just couldn’t imagine a middle ground. I didn’t know what that would look like.

The entire last month has been about finding some way to realize (spelt with a Z because I’m officially an American now) that my life is never going to be as perfect as I dreamt it would be. But it also doesn’t have to be as bad as it used to be. I’m not the perfectly groomed, perfectly stable person of my dreams but I’m also not the 17 year old girl hiding under the covers too afraid to leave her bedroom. I’m somewhere in the middle, like Texas, or a medium rare steak, and it’s been a big job trying to re-wire my brain into not panicking every time something goes wrong. There have definitely been bad bits, but there have also been bits that have been better than I could ever have imagined, and times when I’ve been happier than I ever could have been before. And finding a way to accept that I can feel both happy and sad together has been a complicated thing to do.

Now that I’m settled I’m going to start blogging more, mostly because it turns out you have a lot of free time at university and there’s only so much Gossip Girl a girl can watch (okay, that’s a lie, I can watch an infinite amount of Gossip Girl) but also because I love this blog, and everyone who reads it.

So I will be back, with more details about the good things, and the bad things, and the things in between. But for now I will leave you with two things to ponder on: bed bugs, and bunk beds. Yes, that’s right, you’re eyes do not deceive you, bed bugs (the explanation behind the picture of my leg above)… and BUNK BEDS….

I hope you’re having a lovely day.


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Burger Cupcakes…

There’s not much I can write to accompany these pictures as I feel hamburgers made of cake are more of a visual art than a written one. However I will attempt to explain how the whole cake burger situation came about and how you can make some of these yourself. 


In case you are unfamiliar with it, there is a show in the UK called The Great British Bake Off. It is, essentially, the greatest TV show on earth, in fact it may be the greatest thing on earth. There is so much on TV and on the internet that’s about hatred, about pointing out all the horrible things in the world, but the GBBO is solely about joy. It actually makes you feel joyful. And happy. And like things are going to be okay. It’s a beautiful TV show and a beautiful thing to exist and when I think about reasons I’m proud to be British (and reasons I’m sad to be leaving England) The Great British Bake Off comes pretty high on my list. 


In honour of the first episode of the new series last week I decided to try out a new recipe. But it needed to be something special. Something that would make Mary Berry smile and Paul Hollywood claim was focusing too much on ‘style over substance’. It was time to make some hamburger cupcakes. I’d seen things like this on the internet for a while but when I saw the recipe here I couldn’t resist. 


When it comes to baking most things follow the rule that if it looks cool, it’s harder to make, but these were actually surprisingly easy. The recipe essentially breaks down into four stages.

1. Bake your favourite vanilla cupcakes. 

2. Bake your favourite chocolate brownies.

3. Cut the cupcakes in half, cut the brownies into little circles, cut small squares out of yellow fondant or marzipan. 

4. Glaze the top of the cupcakes with honey, sprinkle on some sesame seeds and then assemble. 

I started off by making the big ones which looked amazing but also definitely made most people who looked at them want to vomit. While we were watching Bake Off my dad tried to eat one and judge me in the style of Mary and Paul but he ended up just eating the brownie as he deemed the cake ‘drier than a dried shriveled raisin’. 


So my next attempt came in the form of mini hamburger cupcakes which looked (if possible) even cooler and were actually pretty nice and edible. My friend Anna (who has an amazing blog that you can read here) said next time I make them I should also make real mini hamburgers and then lay them all out on a tray mixed together. She is an evil genius. And I’m definitely doing this as soon as possible. 

I hope you enjoy drooling (or gagging) over these as you prepare for episode 2 of the GBBO. I have yet to develop a favourite but I’m leaning towards the 17 year old girl (who is about as obsessive a baker as me) or the builder with the pencil behind his ear. 

Hope you are having a good day,




Depression Anthems

I’m very bad at music; I’m bad at instruments, I’m bad at singing, I’m bad at listening to music. My iPod is always 75% full of audiobooks and the only playlist on my iPhone is called ‘Music for when my audiobook ends’. My music collection consists almost entirely of Ben Folds, Taylor Swift, Kate Bush and this song by LFO which me and brother will go the grave insisting is the best song ever written. However over the last few months I’ve had two songs on constant repeat.

There are a lot of songs about depression, next to love and yellow submarines I’d say it was one of the most sung about topics, but for me often songs about sadness and depression aren’t great for my mood when I’m actually feeling sad and depressed. But these two songs… well. I’m not actually sure why I write this blog when these two songs exist. For me, they sum up pretty much everything I want to say about everything in life, and the people singing them don’t even have to speak the words to the songs. 

The first is A Better Son/Daughter by Rilo Kiley. It’s the most beautiful and truthful description of what it feels like to have waves of deep depression that I’ve ever come across (although I’m sure there are lots out there) and this verse in particular is my favourite. My and one of my best friends (who also suffers from horrible things but is one of the best people on earth and has a beautiful blog which you can read here) can spend hours talking about how amazing we’re going to be once we feel better, and daydreaming about your life when you are ‘better’ can be dangerous as I think we can all admit that no one on earth is 100% sane. But sometimes it’s also a great thing to think about and one of the only things that can bring you hope. And I love the way this song talks about that. 

And sometimes when you’re on, you’re really fucking on
And your friends they sing along and they love you
But the lows are so extreme that the good seems fucking cheap
And it teases you for weeks in it’s absence
But you’ll fight and you’ll make it through
You’ll fake it if you have to
And you’ll show up for work with a smile
You’ll be better you’ll be smarter
And more grown up and a better daughter
Or son and a real good friend
You’ll be awake and you’ll be alert
You’ll be positive though it hurts
And you’ll laugh and embrace all your friends
You’ll be a real good listener
You’ll be honest, you’ll be brave
You’ll be handsome, you’ll be beautiful
You’ll be happy

And the second is I Wanna Get Better by Bleachers, a song I’ve tweeted about so many times it’s almost a joke and is actually the current ring tone on my phone. I think one of the things people who get really sad don’t like to admit sometimes (or maybe this is just me?) is that actually often the thought of getting better is pretty scary. It’s all you want in the world but sometimes it feels too hard or too daunting or just too overwhelming. So having something that makes you realise you how much you do want to get there, how much you do want to get better, is an amazing thing to have. This song isn’t as specifically about the things I’ve experienced as the other one but every time I hear the chorus I want to cry. Because I do really want to get better. And this is the best reminder. 

I didn’t know I was lonely ’til I saw your face
I wanna get better, better, better, better,
I wanna get better
I didn’t know I was broken ’til I wanted to change
I wanna get better, better, better, better,
I wanna get better

Okay there you go, I’m done talking about music. It’s something I never in a million years thought I would write about on this blog as I find people who talk about music properly, very scary and intimidating but I couldn’t not put these two songs on here. Listen to them, or don’t, or listen to half of them and then switch to Orange is The New Black. And if you have any personal depression anthems please tell me in the comments or on Twitter or by carrier pigeon or even a message in a bottle. I would love to hear your suggestions.

Hope you are having a good day. 


I’m Moving to New York…

Pretending to look studious in Washington Square Park

Pretending to look cool in Washington Square Park

It started, as most good stories do, with Eloise at the Plaza. Next came Friends followed swiftly by Gossip Girl and Sex and the City which I would watch under the covers late at night because I was most definitely too young for the Samantha scenes.

The obsession deepened as I got older. Once I got ill, TV, books and movies were pretty much my full time job, I watched every episode of How I Met your Mother, 30 Rock, Ugly Betty, Law and Order SVU and Wizards of Waverley Place. I watched When Harry Met Sally, then You’ve Got Mail, then I never ever stopped watching You’ve Got Mail because it was pretty much the only thing that made me happy. Me and my dad watched Manhattan while eating baked beans on boxing day, followed quickly by Annie Hall and Hannah and her Sisters. I’m not saying I had good taste (I genuinely love and have seen every episode of Wizards of Waverley Place) but my choice in entertainment definitely had a running theme, New York City.

It dominated my reading habits, I lusted over Breakfast at Tiffany’s, raced through Washington Square. Me and my brother read Catcher in the Rye on holiday but we only had one copy so every time I finished a page I had to rip it out of the book and hand it to him. I read A Visit from the Goon Squad, The Nanny Diaries, Watchmen and Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. At 16 I read The Great Gatsby, then I read it again, then I read it sixteen more times. I was a walking, talking cliche but I didn’t care. I was obsessed.

On my 16th birthday my mum took me to New York for the first time. As we drove into Manhattan I started to cry, I hadn’t really believed this city existed, it was my Narnia, the place I went to in my bedroom when I was unhappy, but we were actually here. We had coffee and croissants outside Tiffany’s wearing plastic tiara’s, we went to central park zoo, we had tea at the plaza and we tried, in vain, to sneak onto the set of Gossip Girl. I was still in a wheelchair but this meant we got wheelchair seats to the extremely sold out first run of Book of Mormon and we followed that with a Chinese takeaway in our hotel room. I went home in a daze. It was all real and I had to go back.

When my physical pain got better at the age of 17 I found myself a bit stuck. Everyone else my age was halfway through their A levels. I tried to go back to school but then the depression hit and I dropped out again. As my friends left for university I was still sitting in my bedroom watching Friends, not really sure what was going to happen next. I had 4 GCSEs, no A levels and only one plan. I wanted to escape from London, this place where I’d been so unhappy, I wanted to move to New York.

So we made another trip, in preparation I watched Felicity, then Girls, then I watched every episode of Girls three more times just to make sure I was ready. We weren’t even going to visit NYU. I was still pretty fragile and everyone was sure I would never be able to handle such a huge university, let alone actually get in. But as we drove up to Washington Square Park I fell in love. It was everything I had ever dreamed of. Finally after years of flailing and failing I had a goal, New York University.

I arrived back in London and started working on my SAT’s (the American university entrance exam). My anxiety and depression were still pretty bad so I did most of the work in bed while crying and watching Youtube videos. But after missing the first two opportunities to take the exam because I was too nervous I made it to the last one and got through all 3 hours.

I applied to NYU with my four GCSE’s, two essays begging them to let me in, some references from old teachers and an incredible recommendation from an incredible friend. Yesterday I found out I got in.

I actually sort of found out in February which is when you’re meant to find out but my offer came with some conditions. They had liked my application but it had come to their attention that I hadn’t actually been to school since I was 14 so they wanted me to take an NYU course in London over the summer just to make sure I could actually read. I had to get a B if I wanted to get in and that’s what I’ve been doing over the past six weeks. At 4 in the morning last night I found out I got 2 A’s so in 18 days I leave for New York.

I know it’s not going to be like the movies. It’s going to be scary, and dirty, and I’m going to feel like I can’t get through it. But I’m going. After 5 years of cancelling things, dropping out of schools and sitting in my bedroom crying I’m finally leaving the house. I’m very scared. But I’m also very excited. And I’m excited about this blog being full of more things that just me baking cupcakes. Although my dorm does have an oven so late night baking is definitely still going to be an option.

I will keep you updated, and who knows, it might literally all be too much and I’ll be back in London after two weeks. But I’m going to try and make it work, and if that means I cry every day of the first month I’m okay with that, I cry most days anyway so I might as well do it from New York!

I hope you’re having a wonderful week.


Pretending to look studious outside NYU

Pretending to look studious outside NYU

All Good Things Healthy Peanut Butter Banoffee Pie Recipe

Pie 6

To ‘healthy’ or not to ‘healthy’ seems to be a recurring question in my baking life these days. I started experimenting with healthy (ish) ingredients and raw ‘baking’ a few months ago and I have to admit it’s a lot of fun. Dates, almonds and coconut oil seem to take on a whole new meaning when you have a high speed blender at hand and I always feel like a God when revealing that yes, that thing you just tasted that was very yummy, it’s also good for your hair.

I compiled this banoffee pie recipe from a few different places. My awesome friend (and semi-relative, I think) Clem has an amazing blog called Clem Fresh which is basically an online guide to being a goddess and she is famous for her raw, no sugar, no butter, no anything but yummyness banoffee pie recipe. Then I found a recipe for peanut butter mousse on Minamalist Baker and the whole thing just kind of clicked into place.

So here it is, it’s very yummy, it contains no bad things, and it looks very pretty. If you decide to make it please tweet me a picture and I hope you have a great weekend binge watching Orange is the New Black.

Warning: This recipe requires chilling a can of coconut milk in the fridge for at least 5 hours (preferably over night). So make sure you do that…

Pie 1

Base: 1 cup almonds, 1 cup pecans, 2 cups dates, 1 tbsp coconut oil

1. Grease a pie dish with coconut oil.

2. In a strong blender or mixer, grind the nuts into a sandy texture. Add the dates and oil and keep blending until the mixture comes together and is nice and sticky.

3. Put in the fridge to harden for about an hour.

Pie 2

Caramel: ¼ cup peanut butter, ¼ cup agave, 1 tbsp almond milk to thin it out, 3 bananas

1. Mix together the peanut butter and agave in a small cup and add the almond milk if you’d like a thinner more caramel-y texture.

2. Spread mixture on top of base.

3. Slice bananas into coins and lay out over caramel.

Pie 3

Cream: 1 can coconut milk (chilled for at least 5 hours in the fridge) , 3 tbsp peanut butter, 3 tbsp agave

1. Take chilled coconut milk out of the fridge and without shaking remove the lid.

2. Scoop the cream out of the can, leaving the liquid at the bottom, and put it into a mixing bowl with the peanut butter and agave.

3. Using an electric whisk, whisk the mixture until it comes together and is nice and creamy.

4. Spoon on top of bananas and add some nuts or some more bananas for a little bit of decoration.

Keep the pie in the fridge until serving time and then tuck in enjoy and try to convince everyone it actually is kind of healthy.

Pie 4

What’s in my Makeup Bag?

Make Up 3

1. Maybelline The Falsies Mascara. 2. Smashbox Eyeshadow Trio in Litho. 3. Smashbox Waterproof Liner in Bare. 4. Anastasia Brow Wiz. 5. Real Techniques Accent Brush, Base Shadow and Deluxe Crease Brush. 6. By Terry Ombre Blackstar Eyeshadow Stick in Misty Rock and Black Pearl. 7. Tanya Burr Lipgloss in Afternoon Tea. 8. Sephora Eyelash Curlers. 9. L’Oreal Super Liquid Eyeliner.

Make up 1

1. Nars Sheer Glow Foundation. 2. Real Techniques Blush Brush & Buffing Brush. 3. Nars Blush Stick in Orgasm. 4. Mac Studio Fix Powder. 5. The Balm Mary-Lou Manizer Highlighter. 6. Kevin Aucoin The Sculpting Powder.

Make up was probably my first true love. Make up or Gareth Gates, I’m not really sure which came first. There’s something so magical about it. The sleek packaging, how tiny every separate piece is and the endless possibilities it can lead to. The way that dogs feel when you take a tennis ball out of your pocket, that’s how I feel about make up.

However when my depression started my relationship with my slightly out of control lip-gloss collection became slightly muddled. At my worst even the idea of make up sent me into a tizzy. I could barely look at my face in the mirror let alone spend any time trying to make it look any nicer. My body image issues were already so bad that the thought of spending any amount of time actually focusing on my face felt like it was just going to make it worse.

After about 6 months of barefaced living I was starting to feel a tiny bit better and I began to fill my still sleepless nights with YouTube videos. I want to do whole post on the world that is YouTube and Youtubers because I think it is a truly extraordinary thing but if you’re not already familiar with it then I highly recommend Zoella, Tanya Burr and Louise (sprinkleofglitter).  That was where I started anyway and after months of avoiding my mirror in the same way that most people avoid Piers Morgan, these girls began to change the way I was thinking.

Hearing them talk about mascara and moisturizers and eye shadow, as silly as it sounds, reminded me how much joy these things used to bring me. In my head make up had become something bad, all about vanity and trying to impress other people, and seeing as how I had very few people in my life at that time it seemed pointless to engage with a world that was all about looking good on the outside.

But as I watched more videos and began to dip my toe back into my makeup stash I started to realize something quite different. For me, make up has nothing to do with other people. And now, when I put my make up on, it feels like one of the most loving things I can do to myself. I’m not rejecting the way I naturally look, or trying to cover anything up, I’m just using the tools I have to enhance the things I already (sometimes) like about myself. It’s like when superman puts on his cape, he’s still superman without the cape, but the cape shows the world just how awesome he really is. Make up’s a way to express yourself, it’s a way to show yourself that actually you have really beautiful eyes, or an amazing smile, and if it takes a slash of eyeliner or a bright orange lip to make you believe that then it’s definitely worth it. There’s a quote in Castle (which is an amazing TV show by the way) that says ‘Make up makes us look beautiful to ourselves. That’s what makes us look beautiful to others.’ And I couldn’t agree more

So my love affair with make up is back on (think of us as Ross and Rachel post break). And I might start talking about it more on this blog, because when it comes to make up I have a lot to say. But for now here’s what’s in my make up bag at the moment, and yes, it’s all very dirty, because I’m a person, and I actually use it.

Have a lovely day,


A Week in Cornwall

Last week me and my mum decided to take a mildly spontaneous trip to Cornwall (anything that includes bringing along 2 massive suitcases and one small dog can never be that spontaneous). We decided to go because Cornwall is probably one of the most beautiful places in the world but also because I was starting to go a little stir crazy. I love London and my house and my home a lot but it’s also always going to be the place where I’ve been sick. The place where I’ve spent weeks in my bedroom literally not being able to move and weeks in my bedroom able to move but definitely not wanting to. I needed to get out, and get away, and Cornwall felt like the perfect place for that.

I think it’s important to remember that you’re never actually truly stuck anywhere. I know for me when I start to feel down the effort of even moving from my bedroom to the sitting room downstairs feels like running a marathon wearing a wet onesie. But it is possible. It’s always possible. Even if it’s just going for a walk round the block, or taking some time out to hide in the loo at a horrible party… or running away to Cornwall for a week. If you’re starting to feel like the walls are closing in on you, try to take a break from those walls, and when you get back I bet they’ll seem a lot friendlier. Or maybe just a bit more like normal walls.

Anyway here are some pictures from our time in Cornwall. It was sunny and seasidey and like the most magical place on earth (unless Hogwarts really exists, in that case Cornwall is the second most magical place on earth). My favourite place we went was St Just in Roseland church. Which was the most beautiful place I’ve ever been or probably ever will go in my life. We also went to an amazing cafe in Fowey called Pinky Murphy’s. It has an Elvis in Hawaii theme and baskets of unfinished knitting for you to do while you’re waiting for your food. Just round the corner from Pinky Murphy’s is a shop called White Doll Arts that me and mum had been to before and we ran down the road like to crazy lady’s to try and find again. It has smiling pile of poo broaches and bowls of tiny knitted babies. It’s heaven. I want to move there.

Cornwall 2 Cornwall 3psd Cornwall 1 Cornwall 4 Cornwall 5 Cornwall 2 Cornwall 4 Cornwall 1 Cornwall 2 Cornwall 3 Cornwall 4 Cornwall 5 Cornwall 1 Cornwall Cornwall 5


Hope your having a lovely week.


Brooklyn Beckham and The Daily Telegraph


In case you missed the groundbreaking news Brooklyn Beckham got a job in a coffee shop. Okay fine, maybe it’s not groundbreaking news but even so English newspaper The Daily Telegraph seemed to think it was worth writing about and I was very VERY honoured as a child-of-a-mildly-famous-person to be asked to write the article.

Writing for a real life actual made of paper newspaper is something I never thought I’d actually get to do and when I opened up the paper yesterday morning and saw my name and face and words what I had written I was extremely excited. I’m staying in the country at the moment and all the papers had sold out at our local shop so I had to steal one from behind the counter. If you’re in the Suffolk area please don’t tell the police.

Writing about my mum and dad is something I’ve wanted to do for a while as I know it’s a reason that a lot of people read this blog. But what I tried to say in the article is that I hope by now it’s not the only reason. And I’d suggest that if it is still the only reason you should maybe stop reading it and watch Greys Anatomy instead. Because that would probably be a better use of your time.

You can read the article online here (or you can you can squint very hard and read it from the picture) or you can just not read it at all.

Hope you’re having a lovely day.




Are Cake Pops Really Worth It?

Cake Pops 1

Everyone has those few unanswerable questions, the one’s that keep you up at night going over and over the same information but still the answer eludes you. What is the meaning of life? Why can I never bring myself to finish Mansfield Park? What exactly did happen at the end of Lost? But for me the question I’ve asked myself most often is ‘Are cake pops really worth it?’

First lets look at the pros. They look amazing, with all the cuteness of a lollipop, the portability of a Kit Kat and the elegance of a cupcake they truly are the Megan Fox of the confectionary world. And they taste even better. Like heaven and cake and icing and angels all rolled into one.

Cake Pops 2

But oh the cons… For a girl for whom baking is my happy, calm place cake pops can be hella stressful.  There are a lot of steps involved, and a lot of waiting time between the steps. And there are a lot of places where everything can go wrong. So wrong that you end up on the kitchen floor, cake pop mixture going crusty in your hair looking up the sky and asking why. Why did I choose to make cake pops? Isn’t banana bread good enough any more?

After many failed attempts cake pops and I have reached a pretty good place. They’re not something I’d make every day. And they’re definitely not the easiest. But they’re definitely not as stressful as they used to be. And they do look pretty cute.


My Cake Pop Method:

  1. Bake a cake. If you’re prone to getting stressed out/in a rush I’d highly recommend using cake mix for this. But if you scorn cake mix with a hatred that would burn a hole through a Betty Crocker box – Bakerella has lots of nice and easy cake recipes.
  2. Break your cake up into crumbs either by hand or in a blender and then mix a big dollop (technical terms) of icing (either store bought or homemade) into the cake crumbs. Keep adding icing and mixing until the mixture is almost dough like and you can form balls with it.
  3. Roll your cakey icing mixture into balls and freeze them for at least an hour.
  4.  Melt some chocolate or candy melts (colored chocolate, you can buy it here) and while it’s melting try to find your cake pop sticks and stand. If you don’t have a stand here’s a list of things I’ve used in the past – some wood with holes drilled in, a watermelon, some modeling clay, another cake, all my brothers (holding four cake pops each).
  5. Take your cake balls out of the freezer. Dip the end of a cake pop stick into the chocolate then insert it into the ball. Once you’ve done this put them back in the freezer for a few minutes.
  6. Now here’s my number one tip. Mix a little bit of sunflower oil into your chocolate before dipping the cake pops in. It will thin the chocolate and make it about 200 times easier to coat your cake pops.
  7. One by one dip your cake pops into the chocolate. I like to completely submerge my cake pop and then tap the stick against the edge of the bowl to let any excess run off. Then quickly put the cake pop into the stand.
  8. If you have any energy left add some decorations but if not just enjoy your awesome creations, and make sure to take a lot of pictures. Because cake pops are seriously impressive.

Expectation Vs Reality

There’s a brilliant scene in 500 Days of Summer (one of my favorite films starring a person with a fringe) where the screen splits and shows the main character’s expectation of how he thought his night would go at the same time as showing the reality of what actually happened. Welcome to my life.


Having suffered for a while with horrible things like depression and anxiety; I think when you’re going through things like this it’s hard not to hope that one day you’re just going to wake up and everything will be fixed. I’ve spent the last year thinking that my recovery would happen with a bang. That I’d just feel amazing one day. And then I’d go on feeling amazing forever and ever the end goodbye. But unfortunately I think that might only be true of people in American TV adverts for anti depressants.

I made a lot of progress earlier this year but the last month has sucked. And what’s so hard about the ‘two steps backwards’ part of recovery is that it’s all the more painful because you’ve seen a glimmer of how beautiful life will be once you’re better.

For me night times are the hardest, night time is the time when my illness takes over and tells me that resistance is futile, that I might as well give up because I’m never getting better. For me most nights look something like this.

11.00pm – Get into bed. Feel tired, lonely, confused, other sad emotions. Sleep seems like the obvious solution. Sleep or a snuggle with Catsby.


11.30pm – Catsby not interested in snuggling. He is a teenager now and far too cool for physical affection. Sleep it is.

12.00am – Sleep not a thing that is happening so decide to watch The Good Wife as that is a lovely show with a slow soothing pace suitable for putting me to sleep.

The Next Day

12.30am – The good wife is my hero of life. She is also sad but her hair is always shiny and she seldom cries. She is like the Beyoncé of sad people. Tomorrow I will be more like the good wife and then all my problems will be fixed.

1.00am – The Good Wife is literally the best show ever. Watch another episode.

2.00am – Realise that one day I will have seen every episode of The Good Wife and will have none left.

2.05am – Start crying while imagining my life without The Good Wife.

2.10am – Realise this could possibly be the depression talking. Good Wife good but maybe not good enough to warrant tears just thinking about it being over.

2.30am – Finally fall asleep.

But then I wake up in the morning, and things look maybe a little less bad. And I realize that I must treat my illness much like the world treats Kanye West. Appreciate and acknowledge it’s existence but not give much credit to what it’s actually saying. And I try to get on with my day, and do things I know won’t make me feel worse, and try not to criticize myself too much for not getting better quicker.


Recovery is slow. Super slow. And it’s always going to have it’s downs. But having a down means that you’ve had an up. Which is a beautiful thing. And it means you’re going to have more ups in the future. And one day one of those ups with last a bit longer, and then it will just be life. Because in the end the only choice I actually have is to keep trying to get better. And even if sometimes it feels slower than an episode of Mad Men, I know I can get there.

Have an awesome week.


p.s. The cartoon of the dog is from my favourite tumblr of all time Please Stop Being Sad. 

p.p.s. Emma Mitchell a.k.a. Nicestpersonever wrote the kindest things anyone has ever written about me on her blog. I am smiling a lot. You can read it here. And you can also follow her amazingness on Twitter.