Thursday, 15 October 2015

My only friend, the end

I'd like to say it hit me like a bolt out of the blue. A shuddering realization about my life, my mortality, my real fate; but the truth is, like the lingering stench of cat piss on a second-hand sofa this realization has been delicately assaulting me for years now. Covered up with pith and vigor I ploughed (sloughed?) on through my days, determined to think that something, at some point, was going to change. Things couldn't possibly stay like this. 

I was born normal. To a normal family. I look normal. I think normal. I am therefore, surely, normal? Even my rebellious teens filled with black hair dye and mopey school pictures was all perfectly "normal". The prescribed deviance, for the prescribed "normal" person. Day in, day out, through medical appointments and social arrangements I insist "I'm normal, I'm normal, treat me like anyone else, I'm normal". 

But that isn't the truth, is it? 

As I lay in the bath today, thinking about the stark reality of what faces me, I felt a small surge of rage. I didn't get what I wanted through childhood or my teenage years (by god, my childhood or teens weren't easy for any poor soul involved in it; as my Mother reminds me raising my brothers was a breeze but I was terrible), and I was sure my adult life would be my time to shine. Things would be different. I'd be free. I'd get what I wanted from life. I've maintained that. One day I'll feel better. One day things will be different. 

But laid there, soap suds forming on my ever increasing stomach, it all came crashing down. The jenga tower had been balancing precariously on one remaining brick. That little brick separated my life now, from what I hoped it would be. Well done, little brick. You held out well, and now, your wobbling tower of hopes, dreams, aspirations has come crashing down. 

That little rage engulfed me for all of a second. I felt jilted for another microsecond, then rage and righteous indignation gave way to empty space. The bubbles forming on my tumultuous belly suddenly dropped straight through me, a hole opening up in my stomach and chest. A scene straight out of "death becomes her" and the world slipped right through me. That is life, now. I'm not a solid object of permanence, not something that has any effect, I'm nothing special in the great or even small scheme of things. That I've known for a long time, but now, now I know that is how it will always be. 

I've never understood how people get "angry" when they are unwell. Like life "owed" them something other than what they got. Then again, I have the luxury of my life span only being slightly shorter than the average persons, and that is through no fault of my disability; but through my own choice. With so few pleasures remaining in my existence, anyone who dares tear me from my cupcakes, caffiene, or nicotine does so at their own peril. 

Perhaps if, two days ago, leaving the doctors surgery in tears I'd just been told I had but a few years (months, days...) to live I'd have a reason to be angry. But that's not how it went. I swiftly departed my GP's surgery after a particularly heartbreaking appointment, with the apoplectic and terribly dramatic words of; "I know this isn't going to kill me, I wouldn't be so lucky" and just about stumbled to my car before bursting into fits of tears in a very public car park. How melodramatic. 

Throughout my childhood, and my adult life I took a few things for granted. I thought I would grow up, I would ace my exams, go to University, have a successful career, marry, buy a home, adopt a child or two. You know, the normal things. As it happened, I didn't ace my exams. I dropped out of high school, dropped out of college twice, and finally dropped out of University.Serial quitter. But that was ok, there was still hope - I could work any job provided it paid me a living wage. After all, life was to be lived, not to be worked, my profession was irrelevant. I'd still meet someone, one day marry, get my little home, adopt, have (and share) my stability. Be normal. That's all I'd ever wanted, to be "normal". 

But I won't be. I will never be. The things I took for granted as happening in my life to see me through the tough days that inevitably come as you grow old (loss, heartbreak, illness) will not come. The buck stops here. As my Mother often reminds me, my parents "won't be around forever". Outside of that, friends come and go, and there will be no great tale of love for my life. I'm not normal. Normal things happen to me. I look normal, I sound normal, hell, I may even act normal, but in reality I'm anything but "normal". 

Even now I shudder to write the words. I think of all the reactions. The "ohhh you aren't! Things will be ok!" or the "Drama queen, she's totally fine...". But, I'm disabled. There. It's out. Revelation 15:15 "And thus he said; "Well, obviously."

I won't get my little van with which to travel the world. The world isn't accessible and a power wheelchair would take up far too much trunk space. I won't have my little off-grid house on a plot of land with some chooks, pigs, maybe the odd goat and my dogs. I'll never be able to afford it. I won't have the careers I've so longed and lusted after, it's taken me 4 fucking days to recover from my last bath. I won't have that glorious fairy-tale wedding where I get to celebrate my joy with friends and family alike, I barely have anyone I'd invite. My side of the field would be all but empty. Besides, 42% of marriages end in divorce anyway. I won't ever find a "life partner", forget that I have nothing to offer besides my ever failing wit - I don't like to share a bed. I won't adopt and impart my wisdom upon a young soul who just needs love, my wisdom consists entirely of "Life's a not fair and it'll fuck you at every turn - keep a knife". 

Here is where it all comes to an end. I am alone. I will be alone. There will be no one I can rely on forever. No parent who never dies. No lover who sticks with me through thick and thin. No dog who can live longer than 20 years. No video game that can keep me entertained for more than 10 minutes (until Fallout 4, anyway). And now what? There's nothing coming. I'm not going to be able to afford to go study (if my health even permitted it), and even if I did, the likelihood of me getting work is slim. I've no discernible talent on which to ride the coat-tails of. Things. Aren't. Going. To. Change. 

This is it. 

The actors have taken their final bow, the curtain has dropped, the milling of people as they go about their lives continues, and this; this is all that remains. 

Now what? Will I ever have a home to call my own that has a bath? Will I ever have a back garden and perhaps a little tree? What will I have? How will I have it? My credit rating is appalling enough to shut down experian from shock and revulsion. I love having my dogs too much to do anything fanciful such as throw a brick at the Prime Minister. What are my options? 

At this point, all I can say is, thank fuck for books and the privilege my literacy affords me else I swear I'd go entirely mad. 

"In a mad world, only the mad are sane" 
- Akira Kurosawa

Tuesday, 29 September 2015

Weekly art update...

You know something, the majority of plus size clothing designers are shite. Just, ugh. There have been a few super cute designers, but over the years they've closed down, moved onto different things, etc etc. A few great places remain, but not enough. NOT ENOUGH I SAY. I have very little clothing at present, due to a variety of things (destruction by dogs, weight gain, etc etc) and for the life of me, I can't find plus size clothes I want to buy. So, I've started working on designing some of my own.

Coincidentally, this is also forcing me to work on my art again. Re-learning photoshop is weird. I'm thinking of getting Paint tool Sai when I have the ££. 

I digress, here's my latest finished piece, based on this outfit post by the beautiful Cailey of (so many babes on Tumblr, ughhh <3).


  • Top - White tee, tie dyed with a baby pink. "Hell Spawn 666" screen printed on the front. 
  • Skirt - Pink Monster fur, with thick pink jersey (sweat pant fabric) side panels (not pictured) to make it "pull on" and suitable for wheelchair users. 
  • Leggings - Plain white leggings tie dyed with a sky blue
  • Shoes - Y.R.U Qozmo Unicorn (covetttt)
  • Handbag - Kreepsville 666 Eyeball Bag in Green

I know the illustration isn't perfect, but hopefully with practice I'll improve. Watch this space!

Monday, 28 September 2015

Monday Fashion

Oh my good god, I feel like complete and utter rot. I turned 27 yesterday (no, 30, I have 3 more years left, stop looming). So in honour of my feeling utterly abhorrent, please enjoy this little outfit I wish I was wearing today. 

I often make stupid outfits on Polyvore, so I think this might become a regular feature over here! 

Way less friendly than I look

Saturday, 26 September 2015

It's been a long time, and a long road

Hey, blog. It's been a while, hasn't it? 
I'd love to fill you in on amazing adventures, tell you how wonderful it's been since last you saw me, but in all honesty - it's been a very difficult year and a bit. I've made some bad decisions, made some painful decisions, and learnt a lot about myself. 

Things got pretty dark for a spell. I was living in total squalor. Surrounded by rubbish, missing meals, and being told I was an "adult baby", "fucking useless" and "incapable" by the person I was living with. In a quagmire of misery sharing a space with someone who had no respect for me whatsoever. I just tried to cling on to what remained of myself. But it was as though my every move was critiqued. I tried to do things for myself, get back into my artwork, listen to music and sing along to it... but I was told my artwork was all the same and told to shut up. I'd try to be social with other people, but I'd just hear about how terrible all my friends and family were and made to feel pathetic for wanting positive company. I tried not to let the drugs, and the hurt get to me. Then, one night, it all just got to be too much. I couldn't be squished any longer, and I got out. 

I've relocated to Norfolk, on my own. Don't worry - Gus and Dexter are still with me! That's right, Dex is still alive. We don't know how, or how much longer for, but he's still with me. I'm cherishing every day that I still wake to his waggy tail. Words can't express how lucky I feel to still have my boys with me. It can be hard sometimes, it can be scary, it can be isolating, but I'm free. I can listen to my music, I can make my art, I can laugh and love myself. 

My sense of self-worth has come into it's own. I realise I have a lot to offer the world, other people, my dogs, my family, myself. I'm good people. I'm not perfect, but I'm good. I've got such a strong sense of who I am, what I care about, what I believe in, what drives me. And now, despite the adversity I have experienced over my past couple of years, I see I'm indomitable. I can't be crushed, I can't be destroyed. No man, woman or beast can take away the person I am. No matter how hard they try (and oh, how they have tried). 

Patch by Sugarbones, available on her storenvy

So, now what? What's happening now? I'm still in and out of hospital in London, I've not returned to study. I had hoped to, but in all honesty my health has not improved enough. Realistically, it may never. But, I'm starting to accept that. I'm starting to be ok with that. I'm working on my art, cultivating a sense of style I adore, making and growing healthy friendships, not taking any (unwarranted) shit from anyone, creating a plus size clothing line, and dreaming of a day where I can get myself a decked out live-in van and fulfil my dream of being a fully fledged nomad. Footloose, fancy free, and whole.

Saturday, 24 May 2014

A new Direction...

Over two months since my last post... I think it's time my blog took a new route*! So today I'm here to talk to you about..... the brain. 

I love films. I love medicine. I love science. I adore combinations of all three. There's just one problem.... Movies often get it wrong. One of the most common ways movies screw up is in showing the brain. Here's an example....

That clip is from Pathology, which if you haven't seen it, you should. I'm not saying it's the best film in the world, but it's pretty fucked up and I enjoyed it. As you can see, Michael Weston's character extracts the brain, holds it for a while, then sets it on the scales. Usual pathology schtick. Note the loud "thunk" at the end as he practically chucks the brain in the scale pan (WHICH WILL TOTALLY RUIN THE CALIBRATION, BY THE WAY).

Why is this wrong? Well, let's look at the scene here. That corpse is pretty fresh. Those guys aren't students, and that is, by the looks of things, the initial removal of the brain. Conclusion? That would be what's referred to as an "unfixed" brain. An unfixed brain, looks a little something like this....

Tadaa!! Squishy, right? Imagine what would happen if you chucked that bad boy in a pan. Sploosh! Now you know a new fact about the brain. Actually, you'll know several if you watch the entirety of the second video.

If you are more of a music fan, here's a wonderful song by "Symphony of Science" on the brain...

And the utterly wonderful TED talk by Jill Bolte Taylor on the brain (Yep, this is the talk used in the Symphony of Science remix!)

I hope you come away from this knowing a little more about the brain. It's seriously fascinating stuff. So, here's my new format. Sharing things which interests me. Expect more or the same, and fingers crossed some of you will enjoy my browsings and sharings. 

(*I've been abandoning my blog, yet again. Looking back through my blog, I find it doesn't really represent me and my interests very well. It's too wishy washy. Too average. I've tried to hard to be like other bloggers and it's been to the detriment of my content because hell, I just don't have the same interests! I love reading blogs from people who do beauty posts, or style posts, maybe food and photography, but that's not what I am all about. 

With that in mind, I've decided to take my blog down a more me-ish freeform route. I see so many things day-to-day on the net I'd love to share, and talk about, but I just don't. Now I'm going to! I know for a fact there are other people like me about, and it's about time I pandered to me.... I mean them. This is going to be my first such blog post in my new format, so I hope you enjoy! )