When my mind wanders

Again and again I ask, why does my heart keep beating? Why does my mind keep going round in circles, spiralling out of control? It started with hello, hi, it’s gonna be ok. You’re not a…

Source: When my mind wanders


When my mind wanders

Again and again I ask, why does my heart keep beating? Why does my mind keep going round in circles, spiralling out of control?

It started with hello, hi, it’s gonna be ok. You’re not alone in this. Simple words, black and white on a digital page; it didn’t have to mean a thing. The words turned into conversations, breaking down the cliffs, waves breaking and rising over their edges. They swelled and crashed and made beautiful noise, drowning out the darker sounds. The clouds parted, storm departed, thunder faded and lightning made way for brighter days. An empty heart was filled with hope, desire, longing, wanting more. Empty eyes suddenly glowed in your reflection. Piece by piece the parts came together, fitting so easily with one another as if they’d known each others’ pattern forever. Their meaning was obvious, but still the fragments were fragile. The bonds that tied them together were still setting, seeming day by day to grow stronger, but not yet guaranteed to hold. Beating in synchrony, harmony, musically, a symphony of lust and wonder, changing into something more with each movement, they grew and wound around each other. Two hearts singing the same song. It seemed so perfect, so easy.

The world is strange and vast, working ever its spell, writing its story. We are the players, the pawns on a chess board of green and blue. We try to determine our fate but always there is something weaving in between the pages and writing the words that we do not control. The pieces change and the parts won’t fit. In a moment they fall and scatter, and picking them back up seems impossible. They become heavy, disorganised and unstable.

Then darkness.

I stand alone surrounded by broken cliffs and blackened sea, watching the storm grow around me. Somewhere beyond the horizon I know you’re still there, but you’re out of my reach. The clouds grow thicker and I’m spinning. Spiralling. The music has stopped but I can still feel it’s tune running through my veins. Hold onto it. Close your eyes and listen. It’s still there. The orchestra is still playing, somewhere in the distance. You only have to follow it’s song. Let the waves rise again. Let the storm blow over. This is not a game, you are not a pawn on a blue and green chess board.

A word was spoken and its meaning was true. What was meant for you was not to pass you by, nor I.

How an Ibiza Comedown is Leading Me to Rethink My Entire Life


Arriving at the airport in Ibiza, ready to return to Edinburgh after an amazing week spent with my best friend on the paradise island that is Ibiza, it started to sink in. It was pretty slow, kind of like the feeling when you lean against a really hot radiator – you don’t immediately notice it, but then suddenly your arse is on fire.

The party is over, and we’re going back to real life.

I normally cope pretty well with this kind of thing, but I was about to find out this was going to be the Donald Trump of comedowns – ugly, filling me with dread and fear for the future, with the added bonus of bad hair and a sweaty face.


Our flight was late in the evening, and we were delayed. Typical. Never fly with Jet2. The two times I’ve travelled with them this year I was delayed and on one occasion landed at the wrong airport, a seven hour drive from where we were supposed to be in Bulgaria. The coach journey to get from Varna to Sofia ranks up there with the most terrifying experiences of my life.

We boarded our flight home and the exhaustion of seven days of debauchery and self-indulgence landed on top of me like a fat, drunk uncle. The struggle is real. When we landed in Edinburgh it was raining. Typical Scotland. Welcome home.

Like some shining beacon of hope, our most excellent friend picked us up, which I was very, very grateful for. Having to catch a bus and then find a taxi in the middle of a Friday night would have brought me to tears. This shining light was not to last though, and soon enough I was ejected into shitey lonely darkness.

On the way home, sat in the back of the car feeling a little bit nauseated from the journey, I ordered Chinese for one. Already sounds depressing doesn’t it? Well, nothing could have prepared me for how empty my flat was going to feel, even with my amazing dog there to welcome me home. (My brother had dropped her off shortly before I was getting back so I’d have company for the night – very thoughtful).

When you’ve spent a week living with your best friend, having an incredible time, making loads of new friends and soaking up the sun, coming home to an empty flat in cold, wet Edinburgh really doesn’t feel like ‘coming home’. I got in and felt like I was in a stranger’s flat. It didn’t even smell right. That night was pretty weird. I felt spaced out as it was. I was getting tearful. The fact that it was dark didn’t help – it felt like the middle of winter and everything was very surreal. I needed a hug. I love my dog, but I wanted someone to spoon me.

OK, let’s rewind a bit here and talk about what happened in the run-up to Ibiza. My partner left on June 25th to bugger off and work in paradise for the summer, leaving me in muggy, miserable Edinburgh. We didn’t really get a proper goodbye. To be honest, things with us had been bad anyway, and I think we were both in the mind-set that space would be good. In hindsight, we were probably pushing each other away over fear that the separation might destroy us.

The day before that, my Granddad passed away. My whole family were devastated. We have a family WhatsApp and there are a lot of us, so it got kind of intense and kept me very busy, taking my mind away from the fact my partner had left. The week after that was all about getting things organised for the funeral. I travelled to Cardiff for a few days. It was a really great send-off.

It wasn’t until I got back from the funeral that it sunk in – after Ibiza, I was pretty much going to be on my own for at least eight or nine weeks and I was suddenly going to have a lot of free time. Those few days leading up to Ibiza were pretty rough – I’d just spent loads of time surrounded by family so hadn’t had the opportunity to feel alone, but boy was it lonely when I got back to Edinburgh. And that was without the post-Ibiza comedown!

At that point though, there was a light. Ibiza was just round the corner. I poured all of my energy into getting psyched for that.

What. A. Week.

Unfortunately not to last.

Day one of being back from Ibiza felt like I had entered some kind of black-hole abyss. I had a lot of time on my hands. Right now my life is in this weird, volatile place where it feels like I’m inside a blender and the lid’s about to come flying off.

Being honest, I don’t know what the score is with my relationship. We’re technically on a break, and yes, it feels like an episode of friends, except this one is A LOT longer than thirty minutes long.

My job? Ok, I actually kind of like my job, but not the organisation I work for. Realistically there aren’t that many opportunities to progress. I don’t even know if this is who I want to be (can I get an AMEN from all my 20-somethings out there?!)

I might have something else lined up, but nothing is guaranteed and either way, whether I get it or not, there’s going to be some adjusting – either to a new work environment with new people and a totally different job – or to the fact that I’m going to be stuck in my current job for just a while longer.

Mental health? My life feels like the movie Groundhog Day. I’m not even sure I want to be a responsible adult yet. In my head there’s this little enigma telling me to run away and do something crazy, like becoming a scuba instructor in South East Asia or something.

I keep seeing 11:11 on the clock and a quick Google search tells me that’s supposedly the universe telling me I’m on the right path. WRONG. My path right now is a circle and I’m not staying on it any more. I need to re-evaluate my goals. I need to stop letting myself feel so damn hopeless, stop feeling sorry for myself, pull my finger out and come up with a plan.

Step 1? Start a blog. As they’d say down in the Westcountry, where I’m from, “yer tis”. (Here it is).

DISCLAIMER: I actually don’t know how this blog helps me to achieve anything. If you’ve read this and you’re like “holy crap, that’s me”, then maybe that’s something?

As for the rest? Well, the overhaul starts now. Me, version 2.0, the new and improved with a fresh outlook on life, is about to go into operation. I’m going to blog the journey. Join me and see what happens.

Updates to follow…