Home

Here we go, attempt number three  of getting a post on here. I'm sat, in my room in Glasgow, in a place that's rarely quiet (now is one of those rare occasions) wondering why my room is always the coldest room in the flat, and why goodness me why, why am I so tired?

And yet, here I am, sat, at 02:01, writing things on a blog that I seem to neglect, when I have damp hair and a lecture later in the morning. I really should be going to sleep, but who on earth makes wise decisions at university? Apparently, sometimes, not me. Right now, although admittedly slightly stressed, I'm ultimately happy in my new surroundings, even if it means I am in a big, scary and often dangerous city. I like it here. It's arty and a bit mad. I suppose like me, but bigger.

__A few weeks later__

And so here we are again. This time, I'm a little further south and a little further east, and I'm back home for Christmas. Still tired. Still cold. But it's making me realise that, as much as this is home, my freezing, slightly grim room in Glasgow is also home. Home is a strange concept. I've never really thought of it more than a place where you live, but now, living in two very different places, it's hard to figure out which place I would consider home more. Whilst this house is my parents' house, and I've lived here for years, there's a kind of sense of ownership in living in what is, essentially, my own space, rented or not.

Being away from here, away from my family has made me appreciate my freedom and my space a bit more. Even so, it's still worth the four hour, two train journey to get back here to see my parents and my sixth-form friends. So I'm a bit torn. When I'm in Glasgow, at the end of term, I'm always wanting to go "home", here. But at the same time, now that I'm here, I want to go home to Glasgow. I'm blessed, I have two homes to go to, it's a good position to be in, but at the same time, I'm really quite confused as to what home really means to me. Is it the people? Is it the place? I suppose I'll figure that out eventually.

So now I'm sat here, at much less exciting times of the day, wondering how other people feel about living in two places, wondering if they're quite as confused as I am...

-AJ

Armpits4August - Raising awareness for PCOS

So a few days ago, a friend pointed out this website to me. As you all know - and if you don't, come on, it's in my banner for goodness sake - I have PCOS. I try and raise awareness for it in whatever way I can bring myself to do; these guys... or girls, rather, are doing just that. They're a completely awesome cause and they're supporting a great PCOS charity. So this post is encouraging you to go take a look at them. And maybe donate? Take part?

I'm not taking part in Armpits4August, admittedly, because I'm fairly self-conscious and a little vain. So instead of taking part, I'm spreading the word, hopefully you guys will. Basically, they're growing out their armpit hair for August - kind of like Movember, I guess. You don't just have to be a woman to take part. Twitter has been coming alive with men taking part by shaving their armpits and recording their experiences.

So everyone doing it is getting sponsored and that money goes to a charity called Verity. I have a link in my side-bar if you're interested. They're an awesome charity, working to find out more about PCOS and helping people that have it.

You can contact the A4A girls over on Twitter @Armpits4August or by using hashtag #pitpride and they're really friendly and often reply. I don't want this to be a very long post, so that's all I really have to say. Go check these girls out and give them some support!

-AJ

The Memory Eater Anthology

AAAAAAHHHHH! IT'S FINALLY HERE!

So I'm going to review it in my own little way. I've been excited to get my hands on a copy of The Memory Eater Anthology for MONTHS now, partly because I was really excited to read it, and partly because I actually helped illustrate it. I'm not usually a fan of anthologies, but I say this completely genuinely, this anthology is awesome, and I implore you to go get a copy.

I didn't write any of the book, so I can be un-biased when it comes to the writing. There are what? 27 stories? All of them were completely unique and they just kept getting better. The anthology is based on the idea of a piece of equipment called the memory eater, which can find and destroy any specific memory. An imaginative idea, which honestly, I first thought would be a bit... meh.

But once you actually read the book, the narrative voices are all so individual but they're all the same in one thing. They are utterly captivating. You can see the amount of work that's gone into writing each story and why they were chosen to be in the anthology. The originality of the plots was, as well, completely absorbing and I just loved every page.

As well as this, the illustrations were actually pretty amazing. As an artist, I could see how imaginative a lot of them were, and I could stare at them for hours. There isn't really much for me to say other than, seriously go get a copy - it's available from Amazon so it's really easy to get hold of.

GO. BUY. READ.

(I feel like I should point out that, as a contributor, I don't get any money from the project, so I'm not giving it a positive review for that. I did this purely on a voluntary basis, as, I am aware, did the other illustrators.)

-AJ

You're interesting!

I think I'm quite a people person. I like people. I think people are interesting. You're a person. You're interesting, yay! There's always something, however subconscious it may be that relates to a human action, some emotional response, something on some weird level that tells them they should, or shouldn't do something because of the reaction of something else. People listen to that little voice way too much, or really not enough and it holds them back or pushes them towards something essentially detrimental. There are people who care too much, too little, balanced people, eccentric people. People are interesting, right?

One thing that I find really interesting, that I've noticed especially with my experiences and with the people around me is that people often want to tell you things, but they don't. You know they need someone to know, but something's holding them back. It's hard to explain, but, for example, I have a friend who was going through some crap and wanted to tell me, but he didn't until a while later because he didn't "want to shit on my day". Of course, I would never have minded, but it's things like this that make me wonder. I think that sometimes people won't tell because everything seems much more real when you say it aloud. It's hard to face things sometimes, no matter how big.

I have a theory that sometimes people use what you've been through to not tell you something so that they don't have to face what they're going through so completely, does that make sense? I mean, generally, some people are more open than others, and that's fine, that's good, but sometimes you can just tell that something is up. I don't know about you, but I don't like seeing people looking unhappy.

People deal with things in different ways, and I think that diversity, that kind of... uniqueness as it were, is really quite fascinating. Some people avoid facing things, and some people never shut up, and there are those people that suffer in silence. I think that's probably why I'm such an extrovert. The way people behave is really really cool, each person is different to the next and the more people you speak to the more you notice it.

I try and help people as much as I possibly can, but you can't help them unless they want you to. Sometimes it's hard to remember that, but it's just a given thing. You can scream, shout, plead all you like, but unless they're ready to face a problem, they won't. I know that pretty first hand. I'm not sure if I'm actually saying what I'm trying to say, so here is probably a good place to stop... yeah...

-AJ

A strange relationship with sleep...

I have a strange relationship with sleep, which you can probably tell from the rather revealing title of this post. People often assume that when I say that, I mean I'm vaguely nocturnal, that I don't sleep until rather late in the night, which, since I'm writing this at past midnight, is true in its own way. But that's not really what I mean. People that don't have such a weird relationship with sleep, sleep the right amount - they go to bed late, then they'll get up late, but I... well... don't.

My sleep patterns can be erratic. I'm sat here, in the dark,typing away at an invisible audience, when a lot of people are asleep, like they ought to be, because sleep is incredibly important. If you don't get enough sleep, you'll probably slowly go insane and... well die. So yes. Sleep is important.

I think I have something of an over-active, morning happy body-clock. My internal alarm is crazy. I can't sleep past 10:00am - even if I've been up until stupid hours. I don't usually sleep past nine if I can help it. If I have a nap, I can't sleep until much later than usual. I'm not really sure when this started. I mean, I've always been something of a reluctant morning person, simply because my body gives me no other choice, but even when I try, I just can't sleep at normal hours.

Usually, I get 6 hours of sleep. You should have at least 8. I'm not an insomniac, it's not that severe, I just have a bit too much energy - possibly delirious energy - to be able to lie still and just sleep. Even when I do sleep, I don't sleep very well, I'm constantly moving and waking up. Even the littlest sounds. It's very annoying really.

I suppose when it comes to it, not sleeping, or, rather, sleeping a little less than other people can come in handy in terms of time. I've got this time to do a bit of blogging, or a bit of writing, or a bit of catching up with some friends who, like me don't sleep until fairly late. But still, I imagine it's nice to be able to sleep properly. I don't often feel well-rested, but I do often feel energetic. It's a strange, and slightly surreal combination.

But again, I suppose it must have come from somewhere, and presumably, it's something that which I could work through, I just need to figure it out. There are some things that are harder than others though, and I think the way we act, even if it's to do with tiredness or sleep, can tell a lot about us. I like to think of myself as a happy person, a cheery, sociable person and I am pretty sure that that's the case, but it gets hard sometimes. Sleep is really interesting. The way the human works, the way we act with no sleep is interesting. People are interesting.

I suppose what I'm trying, in a rather long-winded way to get at, is that things about us are revealing in ways that we don't really comprehend. It's the little things that speak the loudest, and I think that's pretty cool...

-AJ

It's not calming down...

I feel like I need to write again - I haven't written anything here in a while, and I should probably explain the sudden dropping of the pseudonym. I remember saying in my last post that I hoped that everything would calm down after a little while, but it's getting busier and busier, I cannot wait for the summer!

So first thing's first. I have abandoned my pseudonym, in case you haven't guessed already. I started this blog to be able to open up about myself more than I used to. I was once accused of being angry and closed, and I'm starting to hope that that's something that people will never think about me. I have poured my heart and soul into some of these posts, some of them I don't even remember writing and I'm sure there's more to come.

I think I've definitely become a more open person by writing down the things that have affected me in some way, writing about how I'm feeling, writing about my diagnosis, about how I feel about myself of all things. This page isn't something I'll actively share with a lot of people that I know personally. Where I'd happily share it on my Twitter page, I never would on my Facebook page. I know a couple of my friends do read a post every now and again, but I don't mind. It's weird... I still feel more comfortable talking to an audience of strangers. The point is, I aim this blog at strangers, but if my friends stumble upon it, they'll know that it's me, and that doesn't bother me as much any more. Even though I wouldn't actively share it with them.

Other than this step forwards, I'm leaving school in a week and this is SCARY. I'm ready to leave, I'm just not ready for the exams that I'm leaving to do. Everything is hectic right now with work and revision. It's all just maddeningly tiring, but I'll power through with coffee in hand and my sleep-induced delirium keeping me going.

I suppose that's it really. Nice quick update on my life. Interesting, eh?

AJx

Emotional, hormonal, neurotic messiness.

It's been a busy month. It's been a busy day, everything's generally just a bit crazy and I'm just hoping it's all going to calm down soon enough. Well that's evidently just wishful thinking. I think in the last year, I've had a week that's been relatively calm, but that's just how it goes. So where do I start? It's going to be interesting getting this all down. Erm... well... let's start with Scotland. I've been dying to write about Scotland.

Well a few weeks ago, I was contacted by the Glasgow School of Art with regards to my application, and they wanted to interview me to potentially study there, and, as is obvious, I was thrilled. So, up to Scotland I go, and within three minutes of crossing over into Scotland, I'm on my phone, texting a friend about how I've already fallen in love with it again. I'd forgotten how beautiful some parts of Scotland are. I should visit my sister more often.

My interview at the art school was really fun, and it went really well, I fell in love with the university, and the department and the studios. It just all just seemed like the perfect place to study design. So I got on the train home wondering if this had all been worth it. I'd had an unsuccessful application notification from a different university the night before my interview, so I'd been a wreck on my way over to Glasgow. But four days later, I get another email telling me that they wanted to give me an offer to study at the GSA. Needless to say that GSA has always been and now is officially my first choice.

So that's where this starts. I want to move to Scotland for university. There's a part of my head that asks whether I'm good enough. Am I going to meet the conditions? I've come to realise how much more faith my friends have in me than I do in myself. This is where the emotional wreck comes in.

It's hit me that all of my friends and I will be leaving each other's company, and it's hard to think that I wont see them every day, that I won't get to wonder what on earth they're on about when they're close, because, well they won't be close. It's an odd thing to think about, but I was feeling nostalgic, and, even though I'm ready to leave my school, I'm not sure I'm ready to leave my friends. But we'll try.

We try because we have to. Change is good, and we have to learn to deal with it. Change is how we grow, whether it's finding out how much you want to go to a certain school, or a diagnosis, it happens and there's nothing we can do, or should do to stop it. Change is change, and yet it's the one thing that doesn't change.

AJ

Confidence

Confidence is an issue that I've struggled through for a very long time. Throughout the years my lack of self confidence has varied and moved around into several different areas. My self esteem has plummeted pretty low at points, but once you get past that, everything's a little better.

I think confidence is something that a lot of people struggle with, which is a bit of a shame really. It's one of those things that can really affect people; really hold them back. I had a close friend that used to hurt themselves quite regularly because they...well they thought they were worthless I suppose. I have never felt completely worthless, and I hope I never do, but sometimes those dark thoughts do cross my mind.

Confidence is a strange thing. I feel more confident blogging to a group of strangers about my life than I do telling my friends to their faces. That's weird, isn't it? I'd rather tell a stranger through a screen. I think that's odd anyway. It's odd because...well...my blog is like my diary. That's not the sort of thing people let people read, but well...here we are.

Writing at night is easier than writing in the day. Under the cover of darkness. Kind of a bit secretive really. Maybe that's saying something about my confidence. I don't know. More people have insecurities than people think, and more people have more insecurities than they know. Maybe we should all help each other with our insecurities. Maybe that's a bit sloshy and cliche, but maybe it's true.

Ironically, it seems like people aren't confident enough to help other people. So maybe we should all work on improving our own issues. The thing about humans though, is that we're not solitary creatures. We work in groups, we're social...well most of us are - the point is, hearing something nice once in a while does wonders to your self-esteem, so dropping compliments here and there would work wonders, no?

For me it was Diagnosis = Confidence drop, and now I'm re-building again. Just kept thinking 'damaged goods' or 'faulty' or something, but at least I know I'm not alone. We can do everything we want to, we just have to be confident enough to try.

AJ

Onwards with optimism!

Two and a half months since my diagnosis and I feel like I'm starting to become more and more like my old self every day. Everything looks a little brighter, and in spite of the harsh winter weather, I rarely feel cold and lifeless anymore. This blog is kind of like a form of therapy for me. I suppose most writing is. This is where I'm completely unedited though, where I have total free reign to make mistakes, where I can make typos and that's how people know I'm a real person.

I genuinely feel blessed at this moment in my life. I have the most amazing people surrounding me, the nicest, kindest people that I could ever ask for. I've said in the past that they make the world a little less dark, but really, they make the world a little brighter. I maintain that the world can be a dark place, a hard place to be, but there are places you can find, people that you can find, things that you can do to keep it a little brighter than you could have thought.

The thing with writing is that inspiration rarely hits me until the wee hours, or at least, very late at night. It's a challenge for me to keep this blog going, but I'm still doing it, because I really want to help other people with it, not just myself. My job at The Student Review keeps me sane sometimes. In spite of the fact that it drives me crazy having to come up with things to write about, I love doing it. It's a challenge. Seeing a pattern? For some crazy reason, and god only knows why, I love doing things that are difficult for me, challenging for me. I suppose it makes me feel a little stronger. It's that sense of achievement.

As well as that, I do work alongside some pretty brilliant people on TSR. I don't think I'll ever regret taking that up. I'm bloody grateful to have been able to be a part of it. I wrote an info/article piece about PCOS for The Student Review, and I feel a little better about myself because I've been able to do that. I know that there are people that have read that, and just knowing that people are a little more informed makes me a little happier.

I suppose everything seems to be travelling a little more smoothly now. Things are settling down, and I'm finding time to do things that I didn't want to do when I was on the bad pills. I love helping people, making people smile, making things a little clearer for them, which is why I have my Advice column (if you have any questions feel free to get in touch). I feel more optimistic now because I am happier. I am steadier, and I have pushed through what I needed to push through. Strangely it was before my diagnosis that I was at my worst. You think you've hit rock bottom, but you have much further to sink. My diagnosis acted as something of a liberation for me. Although I'm still not completely at peace with it, I think that some day, maybe soon, I will be.

AJ