After the Storm

I want to try to make this entry my last personal blog, where I share my thoughts instead of my writing, I’ve lost track of the direction this page should have been taking and I have been using this as a platform for my brain garbage.

Having said that, I doubt this to be the case and anticipate that I shall ignore my words entirely, as usual, totally disregarding my current thoughts and getting distracted by other thoughts which pop up randomly to steal my attention.



2016 has Not been an easy ride so far, in fact it has been a little bit of a bastard. With the exception of my glorious holiday, I have had the sensation of spinning round and round in circles, chasing my tail, waiting for appointment dates, visiting times, more appointments, assessments, cancelled appointments, cancelled assessments, more visiting times and among all that chaos, work – eat – sleep – a wobbly social life and cancelled plans. I shall spare you the details of the chaos erupting situation, suffice to say that as briefly mentioned in Tuesdays post – this regards my Mother’s Health Care.

For the record, apart from my Parents and an 102 year old Great Aunt (somewhere) I have no family – No brothers – No sisters – No aunts – No uncles – No grandparents – No hidden cousins – No children of my own and No husband. So everything has laid directly upon the shoulders of myself and my father, we have had the support of some great friends, but we can only ask so much.

We have turned a corner on Tuesday, we have the support we hoped for and yet this good news came with a price… The painful understanding that there is no form of recovery, nothing but a slow decline to the end…

In some respects this year has been a fluctuation of emotions, normal life scattered with the struggling to mourn someone who is not physically dead.

And that is my own journey and that is also where I need to leave this subject…



From 12.05.16 Onward…

At Christmas a Darling friend got me a ‘book-in-a-blanket’ (I’ll post a picture at some point to help you understand this concept – which she personally designed) This book has been dreadfully abused by my hands, it has fell apart, lost pages, repaired and utterly loved. I write in this near every day, stick in images and snippets of information. Random crap with no theme or focus…

…So, how is this related to my earlier thoughts?

By writing and going through old notes, my being able to have somewhere to mentally dump all my emotional baggage, my ideas and all the various plots and plans (which never come into being) has been a tremendous way to deal with everything. Even though the majority of subjects scattered throughout the book are hardly related, the process of writing has kept my mind focused on keeping going, instead of getting wrapped up on misplaced grief and suffocating in my own negativity.

Each time I have dipped I have leaned against a good friend or two, who have always kept me upright and prevented my from stumbling into doom and gloom, I would be lost without their support, for they have kept the Black Dog at bay…

… Then I have written, utter nonsense, but I have written!

And that my friends has been my answer, I have turned a corner today, the clouds have lifted and I feel I can move again, breathe again and focus. So maybe it’s time to actually write something beyond my garbled thoughts and create something more beautiful (or tragic) with my words…


Anne Harrison 12.05.16



Curious Encounters

… Or the metamorphosis of Anne

… Or how lucky I am

… … …

Sometimes it takes a blast from the past to make you realise just how much your life has changed in the last decade. These usually happen when you least expect them, however in the last few months I appear to be collecting friends from the past, from past jobs and even college, people I used to see on a daily basis, close friends, once, connections severed throughout years, distance and change in circumstances.

It was one such curious encounter recently (yesterday) which resulted in two cups of coffee and a long natter at lunch time, that spurred the frightening realisation that I am not who I was. So if I wasn’t who I was, as in the person who people remember me as, who am I?

Is this an external change? Different clothes, pink hair colour, splash of make up, my weight… All these elements can alter your appearance, can make you look different, feel different, carry yourself different… And indeed changes to these elements of my persona have been implemented throughout the years. But… I still get this sensation that I am totally different ‘inside’… Something deeper than a mere external changes.

I hesitate to use the phrase ‘reborn’ that gives the whole process religious overtones (and the subject of religion must wait for another day) also the concept of being ‘reborn’ feels as though this would be a near instantaneous phenomena, whereas the change I am processing in my mind, feels as though it has taken years to cultivate.

I was a creature lost in the dark, scurrying from one day to the next, years merging into each other with no direction, goal or motivation. These where fleeting fancies of a distracted mind, I would always have good intentions of bettering myself, but these intentions most frequently ended up in the bottom of a Stella can. Looking back… (Something I  try to escape from doing) I can understand how I dissolved into a pit of depression, nights of brutal self harm and alcohol use. Truth is, I was miserable, tired and fed up. Tied into a life where I had lost who I was (in my teenage/20’s) and became this thing of self loathing & self punishment. Pain was the only thing which felt real and alcohol deadened that pain.

This is not easy to write, not something I long to dwell on and even harder to address to my invisible audience, but these faces from my past have churned up all this buried emotions and I am left with this overwhelming sense of total self understanding.

I want to scream ‘LOOK AT ME NOW!’ I want to stand proud and strong, my life enhanced by the drastic changes I have adopted to make me who I am today. I am different, I can see that now, by looking back (briefly) I can see just how much process I have made. Naturally, I still have moments of weakness, where old me tries to pull me back into the depths of despair. I am not always strong, but I am looking ahead, I am more aware of who I am, what I am and my goals are more realistic.

LOOK AT ME NOW… I look at my life and hold my head up high!

I might not be the person my old friends remember me as…

Truth is, I never want to be that person again. Before you now is a stronger, braver, thinner, cleaner, crazy cat lady. Someone who actually likes herself!

Truth is, I’m doing the best I can, each day, every day, to make my life whole…


Anne Harrison 01.03.16


PS: I am lucky, I am grateful every single day I thank my blessings. I do not desire to appear big-headed… More like… I’ve survived!!

Frustrating February

Frustrating February or the not so happy new year…

… I had mentally written this whole blog earlier in my tornado of thoughts. Inspired by a short text conversation last night with a good friend of mine who pointed out that my blog was kinda catharsis for me. This I like and has given me the urge to address my Frustrating February in clear words, to focus on all that rumbling shit in my head and transform it magically into words so that it lifts this dark cloud of gloom from my life and I feel tremendously restored to my usual shiny glittery self…

… Trouble is, as soon as I sat down with my lunch at the keyboard, all those words, all the deep grumbling doom, all that stress, shit and general misery… It’s not there, the careful yet painful words I wanted to share, my speech, my inner monologue… Nothing, Silence… Beautiful clear peaceful silence. As though the decision itself to sit and write has lifted a veil from my soul, a calm voice in the back of my head is like a soothing warm perfumed bath I can sink in to and relax.

… Ooh the shit is still there, but I don’t hold the stress that had fueled my desire to write all that shit down. Granted I have coffee and (Birthday) cake with my lunch, this alone appears to be a magical winning combination, which turn the lips up into a content warm smile. My inner filing cabinet system has neatly filed away such emotions under the ‘don’t-get-stressed-over-shit-you-cant-control’ heading and I feel more inclined to sit back and ride the wave instead of drowning in an emotional tide.

… I’m not sure if it’s the meditation class I attended last night, the decision to write or the fact that I spent this morning mentally writing everything anyway… Maybe, possibly, could-be a happy combination of these… But it’s gone and I feel lighter, my shoulders don’t ache so much, my headache has ceased and my inspiration has returned.

… Maybe with March on the doorstep I can finally cast off this drowning sorrow and focus ahead upon my forthcoming adventures and new courses. With a new month, a new day (and pay day) a time of travelling awaits me instead of ragged nerves over a situation I can not control… That feels much better…


Anne Harrison 26.02.16



Monday Morning Musings

Then suddenly it happened, exhausted with the constant drama, politics and depression awareness re-posts, the unspeakable happened. The mobile phone went away in the bag and instead of the never ending thread of scrolling-scrolling-scrolling I reached for a book and opened the too-long-closed pages and breathed life back into the words. My mind felt refreshed as I let go of social network, for a while at least. Its strangle hold upon my attention is diminishing as I feel the need to check updates slipping away in favor for the next chapter, am I just replacing one hunger for another? Or am I reading to expand my own spiraling thoughts? At least by reading I do not feel so many tumbling emotions, I’m not annoyed, frustrated, angry… This cocktail of negativity having lifted as I have withdrawn my attention from so much bull shit, looking back briefly as I have over the last few days, I become aware of this heat rising in my chest, like a mini tornado of emotions and cute pussy cats… Why do I subject myself to all this nonsense when reading helps?

It is not the only thing I have neglected recently for the sake of my own peace of mind. I have ceased to write in my pretty pretty green notebook with a rainbow unicorn design and such pretty pretty pages. I have left it at home since it was damaged in my bag, it has taken up resident within a crate of various notebooks, smash books, colouring books and a sewing bible, I brought with every intention of teaching myself to make my own clothes. Most of these pretty pretty books are crammed full of ideas, plots and plans, rules and regulations I self imposed upon myself for personal development and self improvement… Drowning Drowning Drowning… forever drowning in a whirlpool of my own ideas!

I paint such glorious images in my mind of how my life should appear to be should I actually implement any of these ideas, instead of writing the same to-do lists over and over again in different words, so I feel good about having a plan then get home and do nothing! Because I find myself so bewildered by how much I want to do, I find that I don’t have the energy to focus on any of them, nothing zip… Adding to the frustration already circling around my thoughts, numb without motivation, I start scrolling-scrolling-scrolling and here we go again…

So the phone is away, in my pocket, the book is at home, I’m a few chapters more into my book and the only list I have for today is a shopping list.

This feels like a huge turn around in a few days, already I’m sensing a few subtle changes… I cease to mentally torture myself if I miss my morning exercise routine, I listen to my body instead of forcing myself through glum moods, period pains, the illusive cold (which neither comes out in full or fucks off completely) and plain tiredness are all valid reasons to rest and I should be able to rest without guilt. In fact I feel better for doing so, I’m ready to face a 5am start with a fresh mind instead of a tortured soul…

All these elements feel as though they are related to this unending need to impose self restricting expectations upon myself in order to live a life that the media would conclude us to believe is normal and healthy, when I actually like biscuits and never see anyone in reality skip and dance through the streets as they do in adverts.

My health is important to me, this impact has been painfully enforced upon me by old photos of myself, horrific memories (which turn my soul cold) and the current illness of my own Mother, yet neither do I desire to live as a nutritional monk, sweeties are nice, chocolates taste good, cake is possibly my largest weakness and I also feel comfortable with the fact that I will never have the body of a 20 year old model, or a fitness fanatic. I’m starting to love my body as I feel healthier, even with it’s flaws and battle scars. My mind feels healthier as I release myself from my own fucking to-do lists and never ending reaching out for a life, which really isn’t my own. As such, I’m actually getting more done by actually doing stuff instead of constantly planning ahead to do stuff.

Maybe the answer is to just let go, breathe and do whatever feels right to do along side what you need to do to make the most of each day, whilst allowing yourself to relax and simply unplugging yourself from social networks, getting lost in the pages of a book, freeing your mind and writing your own path instead  of trying to follow others…

At least that appears to be working currently…

Anne Harrison 15.02.16

15 Min Blog

I have just 15 mins before the end of lunch in which to write something thought provoking and inspiring!

It’s not happening, I keep gazing at the empty screen before me, wanting to write, feeling the need to write after just spending 45 mins wasting time scrolling through the same sites I scrolled through for half an hour this morning, while casually glancing at Facebook on my phone every now and then, even though someone has really got my back up today.

Why do we do this to ourselves, the constant scrolling scrolling scrolling… Wading through the same crap that’s as old as the internet, misinformation and lies. Badly researched rants, re-posting before reading and cats!

I’m trying to read Eat, Prey, Love. to explore a new genre with my reading tastes, BUT NOOOOOOOO…………………… I’m still scrolling…………………….. *Screams Internally*

Today I have been frustrated and angry, I have absolutely no reason in the world to get myself frustrated and angry, I can feel an uncomfortable heat swirl up within my chest, just thinking about it… But it’s unnecessary, as nothing that has happened to me personally today has cause to ignite these negative emotions, these are fueled by Facebook posts alone, I could have scrolled on, I could have ignored the bullshit… I had wrote a long reply, discarded that, wrote a short reply, deleted that… Yet still it has my nerves on edge.

I’m afraid I’m not going to go into detail here, I have no reason too and also have no desire to spread this negativity. However, it has got me thinking about the power such social media sites have upon people. Today I got angry, when I have no reason too.

I found it frightening to discover that my emotions were manipulated in such a way, I wonder if this is a deliberate ploy, or just a mindless rant by someone who likes the sound of their own voice. I feel calmer by deleting comments, I feel calmer by not scrolling, I feel calmer lost in a book and I feel calmer to see words where a blank page merely existed before.

Two mins to go…. Not bad timing for a short rant and some ambling musing…

… In other news … Had a Zombie Apocalypse dream last night …


Anne Harrison 10.02.16