Blogmas Day 24 – Spending Christmas away from Home for the First Time

It’s going to be a great Christmas, I’m sure of it. But actually registering that Christmas is happening is a little more difficult because my Christmas routine is off. Even when I used to work Christmas day, I would still have lunch and presents with my family. This will be the first year I’m not woken up by my nephews at 7am so they can open their presents from Father Christmas in front of the whole family. Although Peggy wakes me up at 6.30am right now for a cuddle, so I guess it’s pretty much the same thing!

Blogmas Day 23 – The Internal “Meh”

When describing it to my boyfriend as he worried about the fact I didn’t want to get out of bed again, I described it as not being happy but not being sad either, just having a bit of an internal “meh”. And really, I just wanted to quantify that today as an explanation. Because in all honesty it’s fine to have an internal “meh” period, so long as you don’t pack up and stay there!

Diary of a Girl in a Slump: Why I went “Unplugged”

I’m not sure what the cause/effect relationship was here, but my recent anxiety flare up came about when my sleeping pattern became well and truly (excuse my language, mum) fucked. I’m not sure whether the anxiety flared up and caused me to start suffering from hypersomnia again (intense need to sleep for much longer than is healthy), or if the hypersomnia kicked in and led to me becoming more anxious than normal. Either way, a fine mix of sleeping for 11 hours a night and not being fully awake until midday and not climbing out of bed until 2pm, and finding myself thinking too much about and over-analyzing negative situations that happened a month ago saw me shrink right in on myself. Achieving simple tasks, like getting dressed or making a coffee became distressing to the point of ridiculousness, and my boyfriend was coming home from work at 5pm to find me a little down that I’d achieved virtually nothing that day. After a week of ignoring everything and my boiler breaking down (so adult), I snapped, and knew something had to give; I decided it was time to unplug and get myself together.

I Ain’t Pageant Material – Why I Gave up on Modelling

I was the youngest model out of about 30 girls and although I never felt intimidated, it was the bitchiest experience ever. The stylists were taken to one area and the models were sent backstage. We were given instructions and then left to chat amongst ourselves. Some of the girls were so lovely, but a sharp divide occurred between the girls off the streets and the professional models. One girl kept saying “this is a mess, back when I did Fashion Week…” to the extent I wanted to ask her if she’d walked the catwalk at Fashion Week. Another one brought up her very expensive boob job with a top surgeon. The pro models formed a tight clique, and loudly began picking apart the other girls.