Vanity – The First of Three

The three of you,
You three are mine,
I lost myself,
For each to find.
Vanity,
Distance,
Time,
You are the barriers in my mind.

Vanity you pull me back,
Back, back, into your deepest trap,
No words of which can save me now,
The silence around me is too loud.

Your criticisms and lies,
Are all that implies,
Your need for satisfaction,
For my reaction.

If I were this or if I were that,
Because you could not love me despite the crap,
Your needs are wrong, your needs are unreal,
You gloss over what you really feel.

The mind cares for appreciation,
But the heart needs something more,
A substantial amount for which to hold,
A love which breaks your law.

My face may not be full of grace,
And my eyes may not yet sparkle,
But the love I have is love enough,
Love enough for your embrace.

I will not fall down with them,
To lose your respect and cry,
For who I am I am, and that you must love,
Or this love will surely die.

1 whole year! Happy Birthday TFTSR!

One year ago today I created this little blog and wrote my first post on it.
In the last year I have written over 270 posts, gained 654 followers and 139 twitter chums.
I have laughed thousands of times, cried hundreds of times, read amazing books tens of times, been kissed once, been drunk once and loved once.

These last 12 months have been the best of my life, and I wouldn’t change any of it for the world. I went from being a self-conscious, chubby little butterfly to a self-confident young woman who loves herself. Over the last year you have watched me struggle and cry and learn and grow. You read the things I would never normally show people, and you supported me. Thank you, truly for being part of the community who nurtured me into the outspoken person I am today.

Let us raise a glass (of water or juice for all those under age 😉 ) to another year. To another 365 days of pure faultless awesome. To growing into ourselves and becoming the people we wanted to be 3 years ago. To achieving the achievable and pushing for the unbelievable.

Here is a list of my top 10 posts if you wish to peruse my old and somewhat regrettable work 🙂

1. The First One
2. A Feminist Flourishes
3. The Mental Health Series
4. The Piccadilly Line
5. The Time It Got Spiritual
6. The Boy Next Door
7. Of Mayflies and Men – Apologies this never got finished
8. The Most Liked One
9. My Favorite Photograph
10. My Favourite Post

Reading my old stuff back I just have to laugh at my own immaturity, stupidity and naivety. Seriously though, thank you for everything. Every like, every follow and every comment matters. They lighten up my day and give me strength.

I’m now going to find something delicious to eat in celebration. Oh, and it is still a Musical Monday so here is the song 🙂

Love always

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School, strength and sleep – True Thursdays

For those who don’t know True Thursdays are a weekly post about the stuff going on in my real life and with my mental health, hence the term “true” because my poetry, pieces and photos don’t always explain the truth of what is going on.

I went back to school on Monday and of course on came the tidal wave of work. I haven’t had time to work on the new manuscript much, but I should have a fair bit of time this weekend. But I’m not exactly despising the work load because before we went back to school I was getting really scatty. I’m the sort of person who needs to being doing something 24/7 so I have almost welcomed all the mindless drivel back with open arms.

In truth I am actually a pretty lazy student. I get 70/90% in most tests (bearing in mind the majority of my school is rather intelligent and a little nerdy, so this isn’t good enough for some of my teachers *cough*Maths*cough*) but I don’t revise and don’t care or worry that much. If I put in the effort I could probably be top 5 in a few of my classes, but I just cant be bothered. So I have decided to try and make an effort to do some extra studying and try to “extend my learning” *vomits at teacher jargon* in the subjects that I find don’t challenge me.

The fitness and gym are going good even though it has only been 4 ish days back on after Christmas, and the festive tradition of over eating. I could really do with some good trainers – the type that people wear for fashion rather than sport but are actually amazing to run in – and my birthday is coming up so, hint, hint, if you know me personally. I love the feeling of sweating and aching at the gym, it’s almost a drug now. I feel so much fitter just from 4 months of working out. I want to run everywhere and I put in twice the level of energy into every task.

So I have achieved not being physically being lazy, and I am working towards being mentally active as well. I think, at the moment my brain is like a sports car on low quality fuel, I need to find the things that make me run – talking mentally here – at my best. Writing is definitely one. MUST MAKE TIME TO WRITE.

But the last issue on the agenda is sleep, and my love hate relationship with her. Recently I have been falling asleep at 1 and I have to wake up at 6:30 so it isn’t really working. I did some online reading about clearing your head before you sleep and I found this 7/11 – not the Beyoncé kind, but all hail the queen – breathing technique to try and get myself into a relaxed state before I sleep.

Life weekly round up over, I realised in the few days I have been back how confident and whole I feel. Especially at school, I can just chat with everyone and I feel quite relaxed. I’m doing well.

12 Posts of Christmas – Day 10

A frank letter to my younger self, written at the time of year when we are reminded of the past we leave behind and the ideal future we are seeking.

Dear 10 year old ******,

The next 5 years will be the best of your life so far. They are filled with so many smiles and so much laughter. You are going to meet your best friends, your worst enemies and leave some other people behind.

I know you are praying that at some point in the next 5 years that you will become skinny, beautiful and a sophisticated young woman. I do not wish to upset you but the truth is you do not go through a butterfly like transformation. Boobs happen, as do spots, your ears are now in proportion to your face, as is your forehead. You have lost weight, and grown to 5’6 which probably seems enormous to you, but no, you do not have a perfect body. Rather shockingly, you are an average teenage girl. So do not fret my dear, those sadistic hormones do have their perks.

Also all the boys you will crush on aren’t worth your time, please remember that when you are crying over them. Some of them will be more than crushes, and they will hurt you but they aren’t worth it either. No you do not get a boyfriend. I will not lie to you about that. But you do have your first kiss, and it is not vomit worthy.

Also you get some real friends, not just stuck up cows! They are hilarious, supportive and a tad annoying at times, but you put up with them because you are in the same boat.

You are the proverbial Bridget Jones of your friendship group, the one who runs into doors when chasing boys and writes a diary – or in your case a blog – whilst interacting with a member of the opposite sex who you find attractive. You don’t do sophistication and unfortunately go through a phase of swearing like it is going out of fashion. Like Miss Jones, you will end up with the right people in the end, but you are going to fall out of friendships with many. I warn you that wearing a jumper to a disco is not a good idea.

Yes dear one, I know what you are thinking and yes your period does arrive, and it is hell. You will wail and eat sugar filled foods. That is all I have to say about that.

As you grow you will begin to behave badly and participate in many teen occupations such as sitting on your computer all day, trying alcoholic substances that make you feel like throwing up, spend too much time on your phone, watch a lot of YouTube videos and just eat frozen yogurt for lunch.

At some points you are going to realize you have anxiety and are also going to go through times of depression. It is going to be hard, but you just have to stick to life like a barnacle and pray it takes you in the right direction.

Darling you are going to have to let go of the things that used to hurt you, and the toxic people in your life. It will feel like falling for a time, but then you find your footing.

In the next 5 years you are going to change from a girl into a young woman and survive it. Give yourself some credit for that ahead of time. Some psychologist on some tv show once said that you should picture insulting your younger self the way you insult yourself, in order to realize that being negative about yourself isn’t OK. And yeah, honestly I can’t insult you. Though I would never say that about myself now, you are beautiful and clever and a better person than you give yourself credit for. In the next 5 years you will; fall in love once, get perfect marks on a test once, be kissed once and start a blog once. But you will learn from your mistakes more than once, and you will be a better person because of your mistakes more than once.

Also you go to a party and get your face licked once. But that is a story for another time.

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12 Posts of Christmas – Day 8

From thoughts in our heads,
To letters on the page,
The words we use are well chosen,
More valuable than gold.

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12 Posts of Christmas – Day 7

Okay so as some of you may know I have been trying novel writing again which isn’t going awfully and so I thought I might post my first page on here. The reason it starts with the season and then the name is because there are multiple perspectives in the book. And also there is some female issues mention so if you don’t like that kind of stuff you don’t have to read. For me the point of the book was to tell the truth about being 15 years old and totally useless so I feel like it is right to leave that stuff in. So yeah *coughs* here is my attempt at page 1.

Autumn

Saz (Saskia)

It is very easy to love. To love is to give in to human nature, therefore it takes very little effort. To hate is harder, because hatred we are not born with. Hatred we have to learn.

“And frankly I hate Annabelle Holicott. She is an up herself, two faced, lying bitch, who can f**k off. But that is just my personal opinion of course.” Rebecca looks over at me, as I roll around on the floor, fairly off my face on the boozey concoction she cooked up for me, that contains mostly apple schnapps and Grey Goose Vodka. Her parents are loaded, not like Louise’s, but enough so they can afford the good stuff. Mine only drink white wine on a Friday and have a single bottle of Smirnoff for special occasions, so I rely on Rebecca as my vendor. “Saz I think you are a little wasted, would you like me to take the bottle you are currently rocking like an infant off you?” Beckie doesn’t drink since the incident in May, and we don’t really discuss that anymore. Just before I can tell her to, like Annabelle Holicott, f**k off, Charlotte Mack walks in, in a similar state of sobriety as myself. Staring at us with wide pupils, she talks like gunfire. “Guys, my period just started, I think I broke Nick’s staircase, Louise is getting off with Rammy, and, and it is nearly 4 o’clock.” I try to stand up and reply but the standing up part just results in me smacking my head off a wall, and the replying part just turns into a series of incoherent mumbles. Beckie, being the only non-intoxicated person in the entire house walks over to us both and hauls us down the – yes, very noticeably broken – stairs and goes in search of Louise, Rammy and the other 5 or so people inhabiting the house while Nicks parents were out. “Saz, drink some water and go help Charlotte with her Shark Week situation. I am going to go get everyone else. Rammy can order us another taxi.” I pace slowly over to the kitchen, and find the sink. Washing out an already used glass from the side board, I take a series of quick gulps and put the glass back down. The TV is on, sitting on top of one of the well polished, dark wood surfaces. Friends is playing, The One With All The Poker, and I admire Matthew Perry. In the early series he has always been attractive to me. He is the weird kind of hot that you cant explain to your friends. Just a certain quality that makes him irresistible. I hear Charlotte calling me from the toilet. “Sazzy, Saz, Sizzle Sazzle where are you? Did you find any tampons?” I rush, head spinning, totally unbalanced over to my bag in the hallway. I take out one of the tampons I have spare and walk over to where I think the toilet is, which subsequently turns out to be a I do an 180 degree turn and see Charlotte sitting on the look, pants and trousers completely down to her feet with the toilet door wide open. In her drunken state she has got blood on the toilet, sink and floor. The room looks like that scene in Carrie and I start to panic, throwing the tampon at her. “Just sort yourself out. I’m going to grab some, some. Oh shit, what are they called? Wipes, wet wipes.” I say, sloping off to the kitchen once again.

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After my last post I took a little break because I was half way through the 12 days and a tad upset, so here we are back to the 12 Posts of Christmas. Thank you for all your support with this recently, especially with my current state, this is just what I needed.

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12 Posts of Christmas – Day 4

So I am pondering writing again. Like proper, novel writing.

My last attempt at a book barely made in past chapter 2 because I lost a lot of time and confidence and the belief that anyone wanted to read what I had to write.

Writing consists of having the courage to tell a story, and I didn’t have the courage to tell mine.

Nearly 9 months on and I am ready to tell a story, to pour my head out onto the page. I have downloaded Word onto my phone for the moments when I suddenly come up with the kind of quote that makes an author great, and I am collecting up my previous notes from my laptop.

I would like to play with the linear format a little, crossing over past, future and present, 500 Days of Summer style. Or I could try my original idea of a 16 chapter book, comprised of 4 years with 4 seasons.

Ideally I would love to write in the present and the first person but with 4 different characters, alternating similarly to the Noughts and Crosses series. However from a readers perspective that might bring about a feeling of nausea and I level of complexity for me as a writer that I might not be able to pull of elegantly.

You see the problem is 2 fold. First, in my head, I believe that great novels were written in a month and barely edited. That they just sprang from F.Scott Fitzgerald’s or whoever’s head and became words on a page. Which of course is ridiculous, but I worry that I am struggling with something others find easy and I hate that feeling. The second problem is that I write stories for myself. I do it with essays too. I don’t fill in some of the basic gaps because I think they are implied obviously, but as I am constantly reminded by teachers, the reader is always unaware of the intentions of the writer; that is why they read.

Onwards. I am now going to try to write for 30 minutes and see what I come up with.

Any good YA novels that you think I will enjoy, please comment because reading other peoples work gives me ideas and pushes me to be creative.

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Deep breath

*deep breath*

That is how everything I write begins, with a deep breath and a few words inside my head. I can hear them now as I type.

The last few weeks have been very bloody hard. I had a lot of school stuff to worry about, some heartache, diet struggles and I really started to lose my energy, physical and mental. And so I cried and got upset and didn’t handle things in the usual manner.

The other day I asked a friend if I had changed, if all that I had been contending with had changed me. She said I was still me, with the same personality, just minus a chunk of happiness. That is why I haven’t been writing and that I why I have let everyone down. She asked me about whether I had considered sleep meds or antidepressants to which I said no. Sleep has been an issue my whole life, because as the type who likes to be busy I find it pointless. Even when I was a little kid I would make my mum sing me to sleep and talk to her about anything just so I could stay awake. And recently I have been going to bed later and later. It takes me at least an hour from getting into bed to falling asleep so I am always tired. Depression however that is a whole other story.

I think I am relapsing slowly but surely. Like sliding from the edge into the swimming pool rather than just dive bombing. I cried down Facetime to my bestfriend the other day because I had finally had enough. I had laid on the radiator in Spanish and had enough. Its warmth drew me in and then I started to cry but stopped myself, holding it in til I got home. Because I couldn’t deal with the things I was going through. Hitting a brick wall with my diet, feeling rejected again, having so much work to do and feeling like an utter failure.

I’ve lost half a stone, which is about 3.1kg but I can’t see it in the mirror.

I still feel fat. I look at myself and I still hate it all. I mean for God’s sake someone complimented me on my legs the other day and it felt so good. But then I got home and still wanted to go out for a run. Because I’m not addicted to eating healthily, I’m addicted to going out and burning it off. And it is making me to tired. I honestly can’t keep awake.

Because I can’t love myself no one is ever going to love me, or that is how it feels at least. I feel like I’m fighting a losing battle.

I’m scared.

Just so scared.

My general consensus this year was that I wasn’t going to marry or have kids. I was going to live my life selfishly and travel around and make the most of this existence. But I realized I was only saying it to make me feel better when no one wanted me.

The shittiest part is that I know I shouldn’t need someone else to make me happy but a part of me does.

I’m just feeling so alone and down that I don’t think my filters are really working.

I think I’m breaking down a little here, sorry.

I just hate feeling not good enough for myself, because it makes me think I’m not good enough for anyone else. I feel like I’m failing and falling and I don’t know what the fuck is going on.

I’m not going on meds and I’m not going to have this discussion with anyone because I don’t need to relive all the stuff I have been feeling over the past few days. I miss eating whatever I like and I miss being bubbly, I just can’t quite remember how to be really happy anymore.

There is this huge pressure I have put on myself to make something of myself. Because in my head if you aren’t pretty you have to make something of yourself, because when you are plain like me, your brains and humor are all you have. And I don’t think I’m smart enough to do that.

And I’m losing myself. All this over exercising mixed with under eating and school stress and unhappiness has changed me. I just want to go back to being me. The girl who is strong and funny and clever and makes her friends smile. I have found myself in a labyrinth from which I cannot escape.

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Alone and Lonely

As humans we are all alone inside our own heads and at times that makes things hard. Cause no one can ever see your life the way you see it and no body is going to understand how you feel about something the way you do.

But if you’re lucky you can meet someone or some people who make you feel less alone inside your head. Yes, at times, you might want to scratch their eyes out or slap some sense into them. But when you find someone who you can trust and love as if they were your sister/brother, you have just won at life. Being able to confide in someone can save your life, maybe it saved mine, and always having someone to turn to means you can take on anything. So people are even lucky enough to find a partner who makes them feel this, and those relationships are the kind that last.

Of course being alone isn’t a bad thing. Being alone is not the same as feeling lonely. Being alone can be great for creativity, concentration,  self reflection and doing tasks that you like to do alone like working out or cooking. But feeling lonely is hard, especially when you feel like you have no one to reach out to. People are so wrapped up in their own lives that they can’t see that they need to spend some time with you, and as one of the population of the world I can officially say, we aren’t doing it on purpose.

Alone in the sense of a relationship status annoys me, because not being in a relationship doesn’t make you alone. I’m single but I have some of the best friends that are there for me, so I’m not alone. A relationship can’t fix loneliness; loneliness is a separate demon to dependency. Sometimes even in a relationship you can be alone. And the worse kind of relationship is the one you are alone in, because you can begin to feel like there is a big gap of white space between you are your significant other. If that person doesn’t understand you anymore, you don’t have to keep them around. Sometimes love isn’t enough because you’ve changed, but that is ok.

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Disgusting

We are all disgusting,
Thoroughly vial.

But isn’t that part of the fun of existing,
We each get to be utterly ugly.

We are each beautiful,
So we can be ugly.

We live today and die tomorrow,
So give up the vanity,
It’s nothing more than a procrastination technique.

I’m at a concert at the minute so today we are off schedule. Love you all, talk tomorrow when I have a banging headache and no voice.

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VW – Childhood

This week I have been thinking a lot about childhood, as you can see with my Monday post. And so I thought I would share this with you guys.

Holly is a great youtuber and I recommend subscribing.

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=hWhOz54I0N

Childhood – Thisisnotholly

🙂

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TT – Happy now

All things must come to an end,
Everyones luck runs out.

A streak of happiness doesn’t last,
Its totally temporary.

But for now things are on the up,
And I refuse to question it.

Today is good no matter what tomorrow brings,
No point focusing on the future.

I’m happy now,
That’s all that counts.

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Story-time Sunday – Best day/Worst day

So in Looking for Alaska by John Green, – My favorite JG book (sorry TFiOS fans) – they main characters play a drinking game called Best Day/Worst Day and whoever’s story is the best doesn’t have to drink, while the rest do.

Now putting aside all the underage drinking, I thought I would tell the story of my Best Day and Worst Day. And the stories aren’t whole and going from a to b, because that isn’t how I remember. Memories aren’t always lateral and easy to recall.

Best Day

The best day – day specifically excluding nights – was early on in the summer. It was local fair and I went back to someones house and had my first kiss and banged my head. I tried whiskey and lay of the sofa bed giggling to myself for a while. I sat on the couch with my friends downstairs while we watched a TV program I don’t remember. And when we went back to the fair we went on rides and then I had to run down the hill to find a toilet because the public ones were vile. And then right at the end of it we went and got chips, done in the same oil as meat, making it a little bit of a rebellion – since I’m pescatrian – and they tasted like heaven after a day of craziness. It was the best day of my life because it was the day I started to have faith in life, the day I realized everything is going to be ok.

Worst Day

The worst day – was around 6 years ago. I was in year 3 at school and it was pancake day, so we were having a carnival because apparently that’s what everyone does on Shrove Tuesday. And I was wearing this pink sequined dress, that was picked out by my mother. And at this time I was a chubby kid. Like I weighed 45kg at the age of 9 or 10. So there was this guy in my class who was cute and all the girls had a crush on him, including me, and he came up to speak to me. And he says ‘You look pregnant in that dress’ and walks away. At the time it didn’t hurt and I got over it. But over time it ate away at me as I grew up. And to this day those 6 words have stayed with me. For years I looked in the mirror and cried at what I saw. Even when I reached a healthy, average weigh, I was unhappy. To this day I try to lose weight, but now it is for me and not for that stupid little boy who doesn’t even remember saying that to me.

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Mistakes and consequences

We all make mistakes. We all f up at times. We all lose ourselves. We all regret things.

The problem with mistakes isn’t the mistakes themselves but the effects on those around.

Because you can trip over 50 times and it wont effect anyone but you. Your leg is bruised but now you watch where your going.

But the 1 time you trip someone else up, they fall and smack there head on the curb. And then they aren’t moving and they never will. All because you did something wrong once.

And this is all a metaphor, but its true. Mistakes aren’t the problem, hurting others is.

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Happiness

Happiness is not a goal,
Some objective just in reach,
You can’t use it as an even better if,
Or some kind of improvement.

Happiness doesn’t come with work,
Time,
Age,
Or planning.

Happiness is a spontaneous inconstant bitch,
Who will come and go as she pleases,
Leaving trails of tears in her wake,
Acting as a buffer between your pain and fear.

You cant tie her down,
You cant buy her out,
You just have to enjoy her presence in your life,
Knowing she can leave as she pleases.

Analysis: I am lost

The shittiest thing about being logical is that you analyse everything. Literally everything.
People around you
The environment around you
Social situations
Your health

And worst of all yourself.

I’ve met people who really struggle to understand themselves or struggle with bottling things up emotionally. And its shit. But honestly I am jealous of them most of the time.

What I wouldn’t give to be confident and walk up to some and talk to them.
What I wouldn’t give to not understand the way people think.
What I wouldn’t give to be able just look in the mirror and think “yeah you look alright”.

Because the truth is I understand myself so well that I am lost. I am stuck, unsure where to go. I want to change but I don’t know how. I don’t know how to become this woman. This amazing, funny, clever woman that I could be.

And that’s the thing, I have potential. Potential to go on and be a psychologist or do a degree in something nerdy. Potential to have a good figure and become super sporty. Potential to have confidence and be a woman.

But I haven’t got an effing clue about who I am and who I want to be. I don’t know the sum of my parts, and what that can lead me to.

I was never one of the handstand girls at primary school. I was always the one in the corner, sitting thinking about life and death.

I am different and so what standards do I have to measure myself against. There are no women in the world like me. Maybe there are and I just haven’t found them yet…..

Do you think

Do you think we will look back and think how foolish we were,

For hanging out with the wrong people.

Do you think we will look back with regrets and wish we could change it all,

Having loved only to prevent our loneliness.

Do you think we will look back and see exactly where it all went wrong,

Too many mistakes and not enough second chances.

Do you think we will look back and wonder why we made those choices,

Why we loved the wrong people for the wrong reasons.

Do you think we will look back and accept our mistakes,

Knowing it was the best time of our lives.

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This is an edit of a post I put up months ago. Sometimes I like to go back through my posts and edit (and hopefully improve) my older stuff.

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The Cleopatra Society (Short story teaser 2)

I practically skidded round the corner, pushing the bike to its max. Charlie was closing in on me, the Lamborghini’s white paint job reflecting the sun’s rays into my eyes. Cutting through the traffic, I found a space to park, near where my old friends were standing. Even after 8 weeks training and schooling to do things these people couldn’t imagine, I was still so nervous to see them.

I hopped off the bike and then took of my helmet. I heard Charlie park up just behind me. ‘You’re a sneaky little one, you are.’ He said, kissing me hard. We had agreed to tell them we were friends with benefits rather than explain the real complexities of it all.

One, two.

One, two.

I walked slowly, swinging my hips, attempting to make a point. The whole time their eyes were on us. ‘Shit, I mean, shit you’ve changed.’ Said someone as I walked up to Rosie, the only one of a few I was really there to see.

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Odette Fraser is offered a place at St. Anthony’s School after an impressive test score and hoping for a new start she accepts. Over the course of her first year she learns of the life she is now destined to live and of the sacrifices she must make in order to stay alive and on top. Fancy cars, expensive champagne and deception is now her life’s work.

View the series here

The Simple Suicide of Louise Parker (Short story teaser 1)

She slammed the door behind her and walked out of the driveway. She hadn’t taken her keys or phone or her purse. Just a wad of letters, around 4 inches think. Walking at a brisk pace, passing her neighbors, smiled at but not smiling back. No one knew. She ‘just appeared to be walking to the post box’, they would say when asked days later.

The walk to the field was short and flat so the girl was there in less than  5 minutes. Her small black sheer pumps started to fall off her feet, their age beginning to show, so she just took them off and walked barefoot. And then she was there. Standing at the bottom of the bridge with her heart pounding in her chest.

Gently resting a letter on each step as she walked up, she began to think of all the people she was going to leave behind. Jess, Eric, Adam, Phi, Elle and of course her parents. But she had to push them out of her mind, because if she thought about them for too long she might change her mind.

She stood in the damp, derelict, covered over tunnel for around a minute before making her final decision. Resting her left hand on the railing she kicked out the thin paneling and jumped to reach it’s edge. She then pulled herself up onto the top of the tunnel.

At around 7 floors up she could see the track clearly as well as the surrounding buildings. Few people were around and by her calculations non would notice. She dance around for a bit enjoying the time she had left. Hearing the Swan Lake tune in the back of her head she rested right at the edge and waited until the last trumpet segment came in. And then she jumped.

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After the death of Louise Catherine Parker, her friends and family have to come to terms with the unhappiness that lead Louise to her death as well as their own guilt for her death.

Please note that in no way is this short story idea intended to glamorize suicide. The aim of this short story is to imagine the effect a teenager’s suicide can have on a community.

 

Goodbye once again

I wish that I was great as you all make me out to be, but I’m not. I’m just a teenage girl writing from her laptop about the dramas in her life. Nothing special. This blog is nothing special. It’s just me writing.

So now I’m saying goodbye, but not for those reasons, because the above are facts not reasons for my leaving.

I need to leave because I’m nearly healed, and I’m ready to go out and be me again. Because this blog was my rehab, and once your ready to leave rehab, you leave.

I hope it’s not permanent, that maybe in a few months I can come back and write as a fixed up me. But maybe that won’t happen.

I’m sorry, because I feel like I have let you all down. But I know this is the right choice.

I have one final favor to ask of you, my lovely X-Bears. If you want to (no pressure) have a look around and find your favorite post. Let me know which one it is by leaving a comment here or on the actually post. I just thought it might be a nice idea as a sort of closing of the book.

Thank you for everything.

The last 4 months have been pretty fantastic.

Writer X

writerx9@gmail.com