Now What?

*Personal Blog*

I actually really very nearly asked Google ‘how to relax’
All my chores are up to date, laundry, cleaning and the unpleasant task of doing the loo! (a weekly must on boat life) I don’t need to go shopping. It’s raining, so I can’t decorate outside. I could carry on with the sanding and varnishing inside. I could…

Or I could try something unique for me… Relaxing…
Chill out, without being exhausted. Nibble crisps, without feeling guilty.
Watch a movie from beginning to end without jumping up every few scenes to do something (that usually could wait) Even the cats are out!

So how do I relax?

I have the whole day to myself, for myself. Which is unique, I feel happy about this fact instead of frustrated. I might even try this ‘binge watching’ thingy… I brought the dvd box set of Taboo weeks ago and not had the time to watch a single episode yet… That could be a good way to relax…

I wonder why I find it so hard to do nothing?
Why I’m always filling my life with ‘things to do’
Some would say that I’m trying to hide from issues.
In reality, the truth is far more simple. 

I feel that I have already wasted too much of my life in front of the ‘Simpsons’ and channel hopping for hours, throwing wine down my neck to relieve the boredom of an unhappy life.
I have watched my Grandmother and then in turn my Mother both become glued to the tube, both becoming reclusive, agoraphobic and angry at a world, they refused to venture out into.

I have wasted too many  (depressed) hours, crippled with the inability to move physically, locked inside my mind.  These are the remnants of my old life, who I used to be. 

I am so busy, I fill days with adventures, with work, with chores, I keep myself busy because I feel like I have wasted enough of my life already.

So to relax, to have a day to myself, for myself is a day to be treasured. For I need to learn that these are important too that I am allowed down time… I need down time, or I burn out and sleep for a whole day, that’s not a pretty sight!

So here I am, writing to relax, pondering over how I can enjoy my day (guilt free) before my next adventure tomorrow morning…

Anne Harrison 23.07.17

Dreams, Reflections and Clarity…

*Personal Blog*

 

Last night I had a dream, I don’t usually recall my dreams, but this was vivid and frightening. In my dream I had a total breakdown, as I write the details are swiftly scattering from my thoughts. Yet my Mother was still alive in the dream, she was harsh and unsympathetic, disregarding my breakdown and walking away. I was a wreck, utterly immobile, my physical form trapped by my raging mind. Blocked from activity, screaming silently… Always screaming in my thoughts…

I sought help, walking down the yellow lines in the road until I found a house that would give me shelter and hope… Yet I was early, I was sent away while they took someone else into the property, escorted them to the guest room where they would be staying, I walked away towards a park, which was part of a park from my youth.

Upon awakening, I could hear the rain on my roof, that was soothing. Cats wanted feeding and the morning gave me little time for reflection.

***

It is no lie that I have been battling my own little mental monsters recently, a lot of this has to do with some painful truths which have emerged after my Mother’s death… The prominent pondering is whether or not she really loved me at all?

Six months on, I’m still awaiting grief counselling, initially this is something I snubbed and rejected but as the year dwindles by I am left considering that this maybe a good idea… Especially when dreams like this haunt my mind.

I am grateful that I have this blog, besides my silly little tale, I can freely express myself and pour all my thoughts onto the screen. Which I have done over and over again throughout 2017. I keep returning to this theme, I keep finding myself so close to breaking point and each time I turn to writing. I write until my demons subside and I can regain clarity.

I am calm as I write this morning, despite my lingering nightmare, despite feeling like I’ve failed in life throughout the first half of the year… I wonder if it is too easy to blame my failings on having to deal with Mum’s loss… I wonder if it is other little niggling facts that are a painful reality I have to deal with – externally I am almost dismissive in regards to some details (forgive me if I can not explain) Internally, I know that if I dwell, I will snap.

This I can not afford to allow, in my dreams maybe I crack, broken, rejected and cast aside. In reality, I write.

Writing gives me focus, even if it makes for dreadful blog reading… I would apologise, but why beg forgiveness for something which ultimately helps. I feel like I freedom, my mind is clear, I feel lighter, more focused. Like blogging gives me the ability to unravel my tangled thoughts and find direction.

I can face my day with a clear head and let the dream fade from my thoughts… One day, maybe I will find the words to go into the detail I need to cry.

Today is not that day.

Thank you for being there for me x

 

Love, Anne Harrison 27.06.17

When Words Fail You

And your brain just won’t shut up…

… Mood crashes and everything,  EVERYTHING is just far too much…

My mind is my own worst enemy today

A whole lotta words

On 26.09.16 I reposted a short story on my blog, on Friday  I wrote part 75, bringing current events to a comfortable  (current) conclusion… With each post being between 300 – 500+ words… that’s a whole lotta words in 9 months… I fell in love with writing at university, yet at the same time the course also shifted my perspective on publishing. I decided that there was no way I could ever be a published author. So I decided a blog was the perfect outlet for my silly little tale, my outrageously terrible poetry and most of all, my blog became my safe haven, to express myself on matters such as overcoming depression to coping with watching my Mother slowly die… Here was my freedom of expression,  where I didn’t need to delete posts because of trolls. My story is fantasy based, has Dragons… nope it’s not influenced by GoT (even if there is an eyeball scene) instead I’m heavily inspired my Michael Moorcock/Anne Rice… I don’t have a hero, my main protagonists were killed really early… oops… My next stage is to jump 14 years ahead… with possibly a few significant scenes before then to include… Ironically, I still personally prefer poetry, but I follow so many wonderful poetry blogs, my words are dumbed into silence. I think, I would like to use the space to explore my adventures, to put my experiences into words, but my characters won’t shut up and demand my attention. I’m taking a little rest from writing, I’m still staggered I’ve wrote so much in just 9 months… maybe this year I’ll actually achieve http://nanowrimo.org 

 

On the Ledge

A Personal Blog

 

I had a dip, you might have noticed in some earlier thoughts I shared, mainly regarding losing my Mother and being reminded of this by the fact that my Parents Wedding Anniversary and Mothers Day being within three days of each other.

My Blog is my safe little corner of this cyber world, here I have always felt safe to express myself and write more than I could ever say in person and I write only a fraction of what I would like to say.

Having this space has given me the ability to work through my emotions and safely express myself, no one is forced to read my words and no one is obliged to reply, which places me in a comfortable situation. My life is interwoven with my ongoing ‘Not-so-short-short-story’ and I can find some measure of peace of mind.

A fellow Blogger recently sent me these precious words of wisdom:

So I started to write, and write I did… It took me three days to write the following notes and even though I know I am not an expert in such thingies, you need to understand that I wrote these words for me… I know that sounds selfish, yet at the same time, I am sharing them… Because maybe, only maybe, they just might resonate to someone else out there in cyberspace…

*Dedicated to all those who find themselves lingering on the ledge*

 

With Love,

Anne Harrison 30.03.17

Work in Progress

This is what the current working notes chaos mess is like, what I carry around in the black hole of my bag and add to bits when I’m waiting for a bus or otherwise randomly inspired.

Apologies – I write in pencil a lot – also there is a random spoiler somewhere in the scribbles, but you might not be able to decipher my dreadful handwriting and atrocious spelling… (Hopefully) …

… Sharing this and The Not-So Old Notes as a little oddity into my random writing process…

 

 

Anne Harrison 29.03.17

The Not-So Old Notes

Finding scribbles of notes which never came to be…

… Discovered at the bottom of my bag while searching for a Theatre Tickets that I swore I printed off weeks ago, instead I discovered all these random musings…

 

 

 

 

Anne Harrison 29.03.17

Leicestershire Landscape

A Brief adventure into the fumbling form of Photography…

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As my mad scribblings race ahead of my fingers, my written notes skip ahead to Part 33 and my mind races way beyond this as inspiration has flooded my thoughts. I was aware that I had not shared my rambling musings recently, which is just another aspect of this blog.

I have been writing considerably, the book on my desk is packed with my mental vomit as I use my words to work through the pesky brain worms in my head…

I keep writing ‘Getting There’ like some form of mantra, it pops up on my pages frequently and I like this concept – Although I do not know where I am going, I’m still getting there…

Last week I bravely ventured forth and posted a collection of my artwork – yet I would not classify myself as an artist… This week, I thought I would share some of my photography – Though I would not classify myself as a photographer…

Says the writer, who is not a writer, yet can not cease writing!

 

Anne Harrison 03.02.17

2 Nov 2014 @ 9:18am

I wonder how many times I have fucked up and slipped back into bad habits because they are an easy coping strategy. How many times I fool myself into believing I have conquered my depression only to get the black dog snap at my heels. I’ve worked bloody hard to this year without a holiday. I long to go away, but that’s an impossibly (currently) there are many things I long for, like a release from crippling insecurities or a magic cure for panic attacks. But there really is only one answer… Me!
I’m turning into another year of my life and I can not go on living my life inventing non-existing fears in my mind.
I found some answers which actually suit me and who I am. I need to work on these and drag myself away from negative bad habits. I know I can do so, I’ve done so before. I am strong,  I am beautiful,  I am worthy! I need to believe that!
This is my birthday gift to myself xxx

My Pitch

Pitch:

Struggling with body dysmorphia, Simon reverts to extreme body modification to recreate his image. Facing prejudice and judgement from family and strangers alike, Simon embraces an underground subculture which helps him develop his physical image of perfection. Yet the mental demons still torture his mind.

Morphing Simon

Written: 2/24/15

    As the only male in a house full of women, Simon (17) is surrounded by his mother (Sally-Ann Marston) and three sisters (Rebecca, Louise & Abbey) with their never ending dieting attempts, exercise trends and frequent failures. Causing Simon to become neurotic about his own body, this paranoia grows with the uneasy decisions of career, college or university.

He sadly sinks into depression, feeling rejected by his mother, whose main concern is the forthcoming wedding of his eldest sister. (Rebecca – 24) The dieting becomes paramount in the house and Simon turns to self-harm as his grades suffer. Ceases to eat for days on end then binges and purges and finally drops out of college. Much to his mother’s disgust.

Simon hits rock bottom when he attempts suicide, his mother is furious, accusing him of being attention seeking, risking ruining Rebecca’s wedding. However, Simon’s youngest sister (Abbey – 16) supports him, even sharing a naughty little secret. A cheeky cherry tattoo at the top of her butt.

He is diagnosed with body dismorphia while recovering in hospital and it is during this time that Abbey introduces him to her boyfriend (Frog – 28) a tattoo artist.

With the mounting stress over the wedding of the year, their mother has little time for Simon and his silliness. During a dress fitting, the cheeky cherry tattoo is spotted by the eagle eyed mother and all hell breaks loose and it is Simon’s turn to support Abbey.

[Need to include background information about the father]

On his 18^th birthday Simon inherits a substantial amount from his late father’s estate. Which he promptly uses to get his first tattoo from Frog.

Over the following months (building up to the wedding of the century) Simon becomes heavily addicted to tattooing and piercing…

On the plus side:

• He develops a strong relationship with Abbey
• Frog becomes a father figure to him
• He starts to eat properly, seeing his body as a canvas
• Something to decorate instead of punish
• His friendship circle expands
• He becomes interested in art

On the negative scope:

• He is dreadfully bullied because of his appearance
• His mother & eldest sisters reject him
• He is shunned by society
• He is rejected from college and university
• His career options are limited
• He is beaten up by Louise’s boyfriend

[These events need to be presented in a juxtaposition]

Simon becomes unrecognisable and is finally banned from Rebecca’s wedding. Which is when he leaves home and moves into Frog’s spare room.

His body dismorphia is transformed from self-hate to a craving to develop perfection through the use of extreme body modification. Expanding beyond tattoos and piercing and moving into branding, scarification, sub-dermal implants etc…

He has a powerful vision during a suspension experience, where he sees himself as perfect, the last modification he craves is a tongue split. He also meets Molly at this event, a timid Goth chick, known as Mog-Mog. Quite plain by his extreme appearance, yet she is drawn to him and they develop a fond relationship.

Frog offers him work in this tattoo studio as an apprentice and helping to run other suspension events. Simon’s life starts to flourish, even though the relationship with his mother is strained.

Instead of getting his tongue split professionally, Simon attempts this procedure himself and accidently cuts through the lingual veins. He faints, the wound untreated causes him to bleed out and sadly his body is discovered a few hours later by Frog.

End Scene – Simon’s Mother, standing with his sisters at the grave side. When Frog, Abbey, Mog-Mog and many other weird and wonderful tattooed and freakish friends arrive to pay their respects for a very loving popular young man.

 

Anne Harrison 15.19.16