Bare with me I promise this isn't as depressing as it sounds. See one of the only pictures I got of me on this trip via self timer as proof. 

Absolutely determined to write something again even although I don’t have a topic in mind. I’m sitting in Bar Postiguillo in Seville, the second tapas bar that came up on google maps and one that was luckily 3 minutes away from where I was when I was looking for respite from the rain. In the past 3 days I’ve hopped from Malaga to Granada to Seville and all three experiences were never going to be perfect, unfortunately Seville was the one took the hit. The rain is coming down sideways and has seeped through the laces of my shoes after I had spent the morning frantically finding the fastest/cheapest method of transport here from Granada after my initial 10am bus sold out burnt what little oil I had left in me after a few days of following a strict itinerary. That method ended up being a car share and was much more comfortable than any bus or train quadruple the price would’ve been, so never lose hope too fast. 

BUT - I’m here. I always joke about how my character gains a life or levels up each time I successfully solve a problem while solo travelling. Having dinner by yourself isn’t ideal by any means but you can eat where and when you want, and having turned my data off 10 minutes ago (75% of my way through the data that has to last me until early December) it’s dawned on me that it’s a literal sit down with yourself. Almost every word I’ve physically said today was piecing together a conversation with my Spanish speaking ride share driver, a woman I will always remember as being a complete lifesaver (and apparently “una salvadas” as opposed to “un salvidas” as she is not an object, but I still think that's wrong and I'm too embarrassed to ask anyone about it again hahaha). Speaking to people and constant introductions are equal parts completely routine and entirely strenuous. There is something so tiring in having to strip your life back to a few main points while still creating a decent image of yourself in another’s mind. Doesn’t matter whether it’s the start of a class, in a hostel or on a date. It’s exhausting.

Spending time by yourself when you are in a place where you can truly be happy in your own company is a blessing. It’s a chance to grow and recover and discover more of yourself than you had to time to figure out before. Walking every where this year has been a source of healing for me, and it’s provided training for manic tourism as a wee added bonus. I’ve become much more confident in myself in every aspect, which is ground I’ve covered in the last couple blogs so won’t bore myself or others with repetition but it’s still so true and proves itself so in the confidence to solve problems independently and to comfortably enjoy my own company for a few nights. 

It is unfortunate that Seville has suffered off the back of this trip but it’s what I get for cramming in as much as I can in such a short time. I’m still convinced I would have nailed this had the weather been better but you never know, I’m lucky I managed to get here at all. I still got to smell the citrus fruits (maybe orange, I don’t know if it counts as citrus but it smelled like it anyway) by the Real Alcázar and I got to climb the cathedral to spectacular albeit moody panoramic views of a city I’ve got so much yet to explore. 

Later in the day - from now on writing on the bus back from the airport in Palma - I went on to see the metropol umbrella which gave the cloudy and light polluted sky a wee bit of extra colour, I had the chance to dry off and I got to watch a flamenco show with the rare sound of heavy rain on the canopy roof incorporated into the performances. Unfortunately wasn’t able to cross a proper visit to the Alcazar off the list but that’s something for my eventual, now necessary, return. It was a funny and extremely memorable whistle stop trip - there isn’t an experience that can’t be salvaged (soggy feet and all), especially if you lost years off your life in stress trying to get to that point.

As of tomorrow I'm half way through my time living in Palma as an au pair and I feel more at home every day. The temperature has dropped a little in the past 2 weeks specifically and on cue my seemingly compulsive need to get ice cream almost every night has wavered and been replaced by a new need to spend any available hour during the day baking or thinking about what to have for dinner. Today I discovered that homemade shortbread is both easy and unbelievably comforting. Usually baking is my indication that I really feel at home somewhere, in Vancouver it took about a month to start back as well and even then I couldn't believe it took that long. Here is different - living in another family's home means that even at your most comfortable you are scared of overstepping. You can never really gauge someone's limits until they are pushed, and often that person doesn't know their limits until then either. The classic 'you never really know someone until you live with them' comes to mind here. That said, I'm extremely grateful for the family I'm with right now. I couldn't ask for two better kids to take care of and the family have made me feel as at home as they can. Spain itself feels more like home right now, I still never tire of going to the supermarket, getting on the bus or going on wanders through the same city centre streets everyday. Palma feels like a mini and more laid back Barcelona, with similarly beautiful modernist architecture and glorious beaches along the front. I'm enjoying getting to know a city you would easily look over if coming to Mallorca for the resorts or the nightlife. The locals are so friendly and so helpful considering my pitiful knowledge of Spanish or Catalan and my apparently dire ability to pick it up any faster. Between au pair work and teaching private English lessons I'm learning that I would be really happy as an educator but it's my fear of presentation and big groups that's holding me back. At this point I also can't remember what my diet was like when it wasn't made up mostly of tomatoes, avocados and fresh bread and it'll probably change my eating habits for years to come. Still can't get used to 10pm dinners though. 

Cue That Funny Feeling by Bo Burnham - why does the idea of settling in always feel so distinctly unsettling. The idea of always wanting/looking for something more feels extremely selfish and equally is something born out of almost excessive privilege. It's not something I'll sugarcoat or try to hide in this, I know that the feeling of wanting more is knowing that I have the opportunity to achieve it, and I am forever feeling extremely grateful that I've been able to do so much in such a short time already and that I'll likely be able to at least eventually do everything my heart burns to do. It's something I've been thinking about for a long time and something that I want to try and put into words more for my own peace of mind than anything - and I'm going to preface right now and say there will be no conclusion because I have none. Living in Glasgow is the best example at a glance. I'm caught between loving what is truly my home and wanting to get out and find that same sense of belonging elsewhere, and wondering that if I long to try and find 'belonging' anywhere else, then do I really belong in Glasgow? I'm getting to a point of being known for being a yes man and having FOMO regardless of what I'm missing out on or what I'm missing out on it for - and it's embarrassing. It's embarrassing to say that I wish I was at my best friend's sisters birthday party when I'm a few countries over walking on along the beach front. It's embarrassing that I'm spending my days immersing myself in one culture and feeling like I'm losing out on the experience of another. It's inherently selfish, and I've been embarrassed by it for years. 

A few months ago now, my family got bad news and the developments since, particularly while I've been away from home, haven't looked positive. It's the first time I've really been openly talked to like an adult about something as serious so my usual blissful ignorance towards it isn't an option (and it's about time I grew the fuck up and dealt with shit as it comes anyway). My first response to bad news is (and always has been) to keep myself busy, usually by putting myself into daily overdrive but over here, while already feeling unsettled, 'overdrive' means impulse. Impulsive trips, buses, walks, frantic activity. Nothing too out of the usual, just manifesting differently. Somehow this time I've accidentally began to let myself process the situation and for the first time in all the time I've spent from home in the past few years, I feel seriously homesick. Not enough in a way that would cause me to cut anything short, but it's something fueled by that same anxiety that comes with the fear of missing out. It's not that I want anything more, I'm just afraid of losing time. Life is too short. I'm constantly on edge about time passing to the point where I could tear my own hair out. I'm so excited for the future but simultaneously terrified of inevitable loss. It's something I've never been able to take advice about 'relaxing' about ('live in the moment' I'm TRYING, I promise. I'm so sorry). Every time I've been told that you have your whole life to do something my brain screams 'no you don't'. I'm someone who loves plans and lists but I'm late for everything and I love spontaneity and my own time but I always want company and I love to overshare but revel in the fact that no one actually knows what I do on a daily basis and I begin to panic and feel a sense of dread if things don't go exactly to plan. I want to fall in love and travel and have a family and have a solid career and spend as much time as I can with my parents while I'm in the position I'm in right now but I want to know a life in Canada too and experience Australia and NZ and I don't want to rush through any of it. I'm scared of seeing others age, of not knowing what I have when I have it. I'm scared that I don't really find myself pretty right now but it might be the prettiest I'll ever be, I'm scared of losing my physical abilities (but it's the one thing I feel like I do make the most of). I'm scared of losing people whether it's purely in presence or just losing touch. I want to take trains through mountains and drink coffee from Short Long Black everyday and I don't want burden my friends with my constant anxious state over everything and nothing at all. I don't want to be a source of second hand anxiety for others. I don't want people to feel like my presence is temporary, or for them to find me so insufferable that they enjoy knowing that my presence is temporary. I want people to know I love them. I want a hug from my mum. I don't know what to do about it. I'm very tired. 

Here's a different one.

This time last year I remember thinking about how my life would look a year from then, which is now. I was in a strange place in a lot of different ways - although I was in a relationship at the time, I still felt deeply unsettled and ultimately isolated, I spent a lot of time just feeling down and there aren't many pleasant thoughts that come to mind from that time period. I knew at the time that I was headed to Vancouver in January, and was nervous but relatively indifferent. I had reapplied and had my pre-screen interview for Disney World and after being let down about it in 2017, I kept my hopes at bay, leaving me with the same subtle nerves but relative indifference. All I knew was that there were so many ways life could go and so many ways that my life could change in the next year.

I had no idea how big an impact my experiences this year would have. The friends I've made, conquering life long fears about my body and general anxieties around food, achieving and completing some of my biggest dreams. I didn't know how easy it would be to fall in love with a city in the same way I fell in love with Vancouver and the people who showed me the best of the city. I was gifted with experiences that restored a lot of the self-worth I had gradually lost over time. There was a million sunsets, and beaches, and solo night runs around the same paths that became a huge comfort. I got to stand topless on a nude beach (with crippling body confidence issues, this never would have happened last year - and it was SO empowering). I was taught that I'm worth more than someone who couldn't remember the most basic details about me, and that I can be interesting and worth listening to.

My time in Disney World taught me that it's possible to squeeze every moment out of your day if you just push for it. There were no 'real' days off in the 2 and a half months I was there. Park in the morning, work until midnight, potentially go out afterwards. Orlando was my oyster, and Glasgow can be too over the next year. I gained a new appreciation for people who can't afford time off, people who need to stay constantly busy to stay afloat financially or to raise kids or just to keep themselves happy and occupied - I survived while I was there but the second I got home I began to crash from exhaustion I'm still dealing with 3 weeks later.

Now, I'm sitting on my bed, writing this blog after the same night time routine I've had for years. Nothing has changed, but everything has changed.

Despite trying to live in the moment and be as present as I was mentally able, I couldn't help look forward occasionally throughout the year, to think about what it would feel like to be in my current situation. For the first time in years I have nothing 'set' to look forward to. I started this month in Orlando, and came home to complete a road trip which kind of sadly wrapped up the best parts of my time in Vancouver (in the best possible way). Starting uni again this week didn't feel like a new beginning so much as the closing of a chapter, and it's been a tricky feeling to deal with. The urge to call this blog 'losing September' was strong but I know that I'm not losing as much as it feels like I am right now. I'd like to remember it for the good rather than the upsetting.

That being said - it IS a new beginning. Being home again gives me the chance to finish my degree, hopefully. I can now look forward to the future from the comfort of my own home, even if it's the last place I'd like to be right now. It's also confirmed my suspicions that my time in Canada was never really over when I left Vancouver. I'm itching to find the peace I found there once again, even if involves starting from the ground up in terms of having a new housing arrangement, new friends, new job and ultimately a new life there. Whether it be for only a year or two or longer.
Regardless - I'm excited to get started.

(Okay so after reading few a couple of my past blogs I've realised that these always come either from a really happy place or a really sad one and this year has been an emotional rollercoaster, I promise to try and provide at least some decent content after this one lol)
I’m writing this at the side of a pool, enveloped in glorious sunshine on arguably one of the most pleasant days weather-wise since I landed in Orlando over two months ago. I start every one of these blogs saying that I only ever tend to write when trying to unravel my thoughts and this is no different. This summer has been physically (for lack of a better word) one of the best of my life. Although I’d still call Christmas my favourite time of year, Summer is the time where I feel the most free, and I’ve found in recent years especially that sunshine improves my mood dramatically. I’ve spent the past 10 weeks in one of my favourite places on the planet, with so many wonderful friends, and getting paid to be here. Shifts were (very) long and the work not always as entertaining as you’d imagine working at Disney World would be, but it was still the best job I’ve had and will likely ever have again. Why then have I spent a good part of the past few months fraught with anxiety and allowed myself to feel progressively more isolated and trapped within a body I’m just not happy to be in? (Which is a complete contrast with the note I finished my last blog on, are we surprised? Not really.) It’s definitely not all to do with physical appearance although I’m very much aware that it plays a major role - but more to do with a lack of acceptance for who I am, how I think and handle situations. My ability to manage multiple friendships while balancing and working on individual relationships has deteriorated over time and what time and energy I used to spend dedicated to others is now being put towards nothing but the anxiety of losing people. It’s a vicious cycle. This blog isn’t intended to reap any kind of solution or result, but more to acknowledge a flaw in myself that demands my time and attention in the coming months as I resettle into some kind of normality - and hopefully to try to explain to anyone who has felt me slip away over the past year in particular. It’s time to take a step back and truly appreciate how privileged I am to have been living in a literal dream for the past 9 months. It's not every day (or year) that you can run around Epcot a few times before work, or just jump on Space Mountain, or tipsily SCREAM along to your favourite Disney World songs at Jellyrolls while laughing at incredibly niche Disney World humour with best friends that you practically live with. All this a couple months off the back of skiing, hiking, going to multiple improv comedy shows, coffee shop crawls and the most stress free exam period of my educational career. AND (??!!) I've traveled down California; hiked halfway up Yosemite Falls (next time I won't be too ill to do the whole thing, mark my words), climbed the hills of San Francisco, went to vintage/thrift shops on Haight-Ashbury, had lunch on Santa Monica Pier, managed to end up the Griffith Observatory 3/4 times in a 3/4 day period, and DISNEYLAND! The ORIGINAL!!! - all with my best friend (the best person on the planet). The idea of going home and dealing with everything that comes along with it is a nightmare right now, and it feels selfish to say it. Returning to normality means accepting and processing negative emotions, loneliness and grief that I've been lucky enough to be able to put in an 'out of sight, out of mind' position over the course of this year. I always knew this wouldn't last forever, and I think that is where a lot of the anxiety I've been feeling for the past while stems from. Uncertain about the feelings people have towards me, uncertain about how my life will look when I get home, uncertain about who will still be there. That all being said, on the same note as I left my last blog about being 21, I’m excited for the opportunity to try and better myself again, placing a bigger focus on my mental health, education, fitness and reconnecting with and empowering and supporting friends.

I feel like I have to constantly apologise to myself for never blogging when I always promise to commit to it, but honestly I'm mostly put off by the realisation that I always want to say the same thing: life is unpredictable, busy and exciting. More so in this past year than most.

Being 20 has taught me more about myself than any year preceding it, if you told me this time last year about the position I'm in right now I don't know what I would have felt. I am much more confident and empowered than I ever have been before. I've overcome a lot of my anxieties around food which have kind of plagued the majority of my life, I've dealt with my first experience of grief and handled negative relationships, and for the first time ever, I actually have some sense of comfort in my own skin.

Living in Vancouver was the greatest experience of my life, without a doubt. The thrill of moving so far from home and immediately feeling an overwhelming excitement and simultaneous comfort never wore off. The city means so much to me, and so does every single person I met there. The mountains, the familiarity of the streets, the beaches, sunsets, food, greenery, the shiny floor-to-ceiling windows of the buildings downtown; every single aspect of Vancouver is my favourite thing. My almost lifelong dream has been to work in Disney World, and this week it comes true. I'm still in complete disbelief that I found so much love in Vancouver that the idea of going to Orlando instead of going back there for the summer has made the whole thing bitter-sweet. To quote a certain Flynn Rider/Eugene; I've found my new dream.

I'm going to try and keep this short and sweet, because I have so much to say and no amount of words I throw together will ever fully explain how extraordinary this past year has been. Being 20 has been wonderful, and I've changed for the better. I'm excited to start my next trip around the sun with a much more adventurous mind when it comes to new experiences, and I want to carry both the confidence and love that I've felt this year with me for as long as I can.

Here's to everyone who has made 20 what it was, whether their impact was a learning experience or an enriching one.
Here's to taking every opportunity that comes and embracing them wholeheartedly.
Here's to vulnerability, to storytelling (and listening), to new friends, new places, making the most of the four seasons, celebrating and appreciating the people you love, to laughter and to (probably many) tears.

Happy birthday to me 😊

Every single year, without fail, Valentine's Day hits me with a weird kind of misery. True, all my past Valentine's Days were spent alone, and I guess this year isn't completely different. I'm very much physically alone in the sense I don't have someone to romantically share the day with, but I'm not alone on the level I have been in the past. Events of the past year and the past few months in particular have taught me lessons about myself, my sense of independence and self worth. I know I won't be alone forever, which had always been my greatest fear - whether or not I'm with one person for an extended period is another thing altogether that I won't touch on right now. Valentine's Day always felt like a reminder of something I was missing out on, and this year it's a little different.

A WHOLE MONTH. I can't believe January is over, and how much I did this month. Genuinely easily the busiest and most wonderful month of my life for so many reasons.

You can judge my general mood and spirit based on when I post blogs because they always come with some intense burst of emotion, and it's been nice to have a more positive motive to write compared with my last few blogs of 2018.

Vancouver has been the world's biggest blessing, and has mended a lot of stuff I was struggling with before leaving. I've pushed myself in a million different ways, pushing my fitness, testing my time management (I'm still not good but I think I've accepted that being chronically late is a part of my personality), pushing myself into a lot of scary new social situations, and putting myself in genuinely scary thrilling adrenaline fueled situations. I've met people who have restored my sense of self-worth, and demonstrated single-handedly the impact that new people can have in such a short space of time.

I've been all over, a bunch of different beaches, the space centre, art gallery, the lookout, Canada Place (x100), the aquarium, a bunch of parks, a bird sanctuary - this list goes on. I've seen the a million sunsets, a bunch of different viewpoints, walked along the Iona Beach jetty INTO the sunset and back (10k !!!!!), and I saw the Super Blood Wolf Moon over the Vancouver skyline. A FREAKING ECLIPSE!!!!! IN A CLEAR SKY!!!!!! I'm still not over it.

In the past two weeks alone I've had my first ski lesson in the ROCKIES!!!!, went dogsledding and have spent a good bit of time zooming around on the back of a motorbike, and it was all magical, and thrilling.

It's weird to think that a year from now everything will be a memory. Even at the time - when you're flying through Stanley Park in the dark on the back of a motorbike, with the driver's foot firmly on the accelerator, flying past through the trees and past fleeting glimpses of the bright city skyline in the distance through the breaks in the branches - nothing feels real.

It's shown me how much I'm capable of, and how many crazy amazing unbelievable experiences there are here and anywhere else. Life is wonderful, and the more I experience the more I get excited about it.

This blog is short and badly written but I have so much to say about this past month that I don't even know where to begin. It's been better than I could have imagined. The takeaway from this blog is that I urge the very few people that read it to seize every opportunity you get. It could be terrible, it could be the best experience of your life, either way, it's a good story to tell :-)

Lucy x

I've been in Vancouver for a week now!! and WOW has it been a long week.

The downside of mild social anxiety is that large groups of people are overwhelming and often look faceless to me, names and sometimes faces are difficult to distinguish, and that has been what the majority of this week has been for me. Like one giant storm of people, and it's difficult to get a grasp of.

In my first 3 weeks of uni, right at the very beginning, I tried to quit. Completely tried to drop out, for the same reasons as I've described above. I had no idea how to make friends, Freshers events seemed like my worst nightmare (and still are, wish me luck for this week coming), no one from high school was doing my course, and with a crowd of 300 odd students, it just seemed like a faceless crowd. It seemed impossible.

Turns out, it wasn't impossible. I've met the most wonderful pure lovely extraordinary people through uni, and I couldn't be happier, but it took time, and that's what I've had to tell myself this week.

BUT it's not all bad. Like I mentioned in my last blog, over the past couple of years I've become fiercely independent - and it's proving to be a blessing. Although having friends to physically interact and share experiences with is always preferable, I'm confident enough to venture out on my own, and because of it, I've been able to experience things I never would have been able to otherwise.

Travelling on your own allows you to navigate the day on your own accord, you can chop and change plans within a moments notice, you can dart from place to place without a second thought. If you want to see as much as you can that day, then travelling on your own is the way to go AND it's a lot easier to make friends with strangers this way. In one day I was able to have 4 different conversations comparing Scotland and Canada, and as a result I learned about family links and got offered a free coffee.

Spending more time with yourself allows you to discover your own capabilities and subsequent limits in the same way that you would be learning about a friend you would have taken with you. Be your own friend. Learn more about yourself. Push your own boundaries. If, like me - cripplingly so, you can struggle with confidence issues, then this is one of the easiest ways to gain self confidence. Taking ultimate responsibility for your own physical actions, with no one to help navigate in any sense, is incredibly enriching.

I'm not going to pretend it's an easy thing to do - especially for people who feel dependent on others for comfort and security reasons. The beauty of being fairly introverted is that I've become totally comfortable in my own company, and it's just fine. It doesn't happen overnight, and requires work and patience, and maybe the ability to prove to yourself that you can do it; but you can.

Everyone can. Everyone should. Travelling solo means limitless opportunities. Go wherever the wind takes you. (not to quote Pocahontas or anything lol)

Lucy x

My past couple of blogs have been a bit ~ negative ~ and I feel like that's a really bad representation of my year. I won't lie about it, it's been tough; I spent a good bit of the year feeling like I wasn't good enough for anything, suffered loss, rejection and I had my first real experience of grief, and it all took a bit of a toll on my mental health.

The only time I ever write blogs is under the crushing weight of every other thing I have to do, this time around it's an essay, studying for exams, packing for Vancouver, prepping for working in Disney World next summer (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) among other things - but oh well, motivation is motivation, and I'm not keen on losing it.

Coming towards the end of the year, I've been doing all sorts of dramatic ~reflecting~ on my year, about significant events and people and music and all kinds of wonderful things that I got to do or see, and things that maybe haven't had the greatest impact.

The running theme among these "negative" events has been forgiveness. It's something I've never struggled to do, it's very easy to either blame myself and apologise for something (be it annoying someone, doing something I would perceive as being selfish or just generally not being good enough), or to let something slide because I feel the other person couldn't help it or was just having a bad day. I'd never thought of this as a weirdly toxic trait until recently; it has allowed me to keep every friendship I've ever made, but is that in itself a good thing?

It's much easier to verbally forgive and move on than it is to mentally forgive - and this has been something I've had the greatest trouble handling. It's hard to explain without explicit examples, and I don't want to do that for the very reason that I have already given forgiveness, and by bringing something back up again, I'm going back on my word.

From a very personal perspective - regardless of whether I feel I have given true forgiveness and would like both parties to move on, some things have lasting damaging effects that a simple act of masking over or sweeping under the rug won't help. Sure, I've grown a lot (and learned a lot about myself and my own tolerance levels) from things that have happened this year - but that doesn't mean that I haven't been left thinking about how things could have been should they have went the way they seemed to be going, if I was able to speak up for myself more in the moment, or if I was just generally a better version of myself, in ways I can't learn to be.

I remind myself every day of how lucky I am to have so many wonderful, loving, kind friends and family, people who love me unconditionally, who don't allow me to think of myself as a burden or as useless as I've felt in various scenarios this year. I am also lucky to be living my dreams next year, and all of these little things will hopefully become a bit more superficial; but I'm so aware that it's healthy for me to acknowledge the damage caused for what it's worth. There's no point in trying to diminish my own problems when they are very real and very scary.

Going hand in hand with this is maybe the greatest lesson I've learned this year (whether I actually practice what I preach is something only time will tell): SPEAK TF UPPPP. If I'm not fine don't say I am, tell people that what they did hurt me because they'll grow from that going forward and other people won't get caught in the aftermath, stand up for myself when I'm clearly getting walked over. Don't let people build up promises they never intend to keep etc etc etc.

CHEERS TO 2019 AND SPEAKING UP 4 WHAT YOU BELIEVE IN, MUTUAL GROWTH BETWEEN TWO PEOPLE AND HOPEFULLY NOT SACRIFICING FRIENDSHIPS ALONG THE WAY!

Love, Lucy x

Guess who's back and arguably not better than ever - but giving it my best shot as always. I honestly planned on blogging more back when I could tweet it (pre-suspension lol) and know i'd get more than one reader, but hey ho, this blog isn't for anyone but myself at the end of the day.

I do feel like I turn to writing when I can feel my life shifting and don't know how else to deal with it other than write everything down - which is admittedly stupid, it just means that any blogging consists almost entirely of incoherent rambling. Alas, there's method in the madness somewhere I'm sure.

The past few months have been fairly dramatic - new places, places that were once happy becoming significantly more sombre, new people, new experiences, new experiences WITH new people, new anxieties, learning how to deal with grief and realising that sweeping emotions consistently under the rug in the hopes that it's easier to face them at a later date only ends in prolonging the damage. AND over the NEXT few months, it's only going to get MORE dramatic!!!!

None of it has sunk in yet, and probably won't until I'm actually out there, but moving to Vancouver (if only for a semester) will be the single scariest thing I've done in my life. And I'm afraid.

Sure, I'm BEYOND excited to stay in a city that isn't Glasgow long enough for it to feel like a new 'home', and to -hopefully- make at least a few new friends. Listen to new music, seizing opportunities for personal growth and blah blah blah. Of COURSE I'm excited, but fear is natural with a move this huge, regardless of the time period.

What I feel is a lot less natural, albeit probably understandable, is the ridiculous fear of life going on without me. This sounds more stupid, and I've been told it is by anyone I've admitted this to. I do know that life at home isn't just put on pause while I'm away, and that even while I'm at home, I have minimal control over the changes I fear most. My going away for the semester doesn't mean that all my friends will forget about me, it doesn't mean that the people I love and who love me will fall out of it. I have the social skills and the energy to ensure that everyone I know and love also knows that I'm thinking about them. On a broader point - I fear what I can't control.

Even at home, I struggle to cope with the idea of people slipping through my fingers if I don't keep a tight enough grip. I hold on to feelings that almost definitely aren't mutual, in the hopes that one day they may become mutual; and my leaving ((mentally)) is the equivalent of letting go or at least loosening my grip, setting them free to find other friends, who don't weigh them down, who are infinitely more interesting or at least less awkward.

The truth is, whether I'm 4 miles or 4365 miles away, I cannot and never will be able to control how I am seen by others. Those who wish to keep me in their life in any capacity will be waiting with open arms when I return.

Cheryl Cole once said "anything that's worth having is sure enough worth fighting for"; and there's a truth to this - but it goes both ways. There is no point in wasting time and energy in watering a dead plant. If a battle is lost, move it and move on - but don't forget it. Salvage what you can, press the flowers and preserve them. They'll never be as bright as they once were, and that's ok.
I'm running out of analogies to use, and after a long day, that's ok too - I told you it would be incoherent.

I'm very sure that I'll return to this topic, whether in blog form or in the form of verbal diarrhea most likely falling upon deaf, or at least unwilling, ears.

Cheers to change and personal growth etc,
Lucy x

Every time I take a step away from writing and come back I feel like I'm starting this blog all over again, which is great in terms of motivation but not so good for post consistency, but let's roll with it.

I've been sitting exams since I was 13/14 years old, so I've seen my fair share of exam seasons, and this past month has been the worst by far. I love learning more than anything in the world, but eventually there comes a point (especially in a law degree) where I'm learning names two hours before an exam and the test is really just a memory game - which quite frankly, is shit. It's demeaning. I know it's my own fault for doing extra credits this semester, and that my drive is dwindling with every passing exam, but wow, I've never felt so uninspired. That might be to do with physical/mental/emotional exhaustion, and the effects of maybe 3-4 hours sleep a night for the past month and a half - but it's time to start fresh. Exams are over, and I'm excited to have a breath of literal fresh air.

So naturally, less than 24 hours from that last exam, I'm back on my laptop - but this time I'm looking for something.

This blog is my creative outlet. As a creative person, choosing to pursue a law degree might have been a stupid move - I haven't read a fiction book for my own enjoyment in over a year now. There's no scope for creative writing in our essays, or free thinking in an exam scenario. The stifling of creativity is suffocating and I'm now, at long last, able to breathe some life back into myself, and recapture what's left of my personality after the trauma of a commercial law exam.

But there's a lesson that's came from all of this, and it's that creativity can come in the smallest parts of your every day life. It's in making your dinner, it's in making a playlist that will help you enjoy a boring task, it's searching out NEW music and developing your tastes, it's using different coloured pens, it's going for a walk in the morning, it's choosing to shake up your gym routine if you have one, it's choosing to walk to work, it's telling people stories and listening to others, it's positivity and it's teaching yourself to open your mind to comfortably acknowledge and accept differing opinions - regardless of how you might personally feel about something.

Keeping an open mind, about everything, being non-judgemental, and actively looking for fresh ideas is what keeps me going. Seeking out opportunities for personal growth, and reflecting on my attitudes and emotions in different scenarios over the past year in particular has been one of the most rewarding things that I've could have done for myself. Change takes time, whether it's gradual, or whether it hits you immediately, and is beneficial not just for you, but for other people around you - it shapes how you handle your emotions and ultimately helps you become a most considerate and supportive person. Change is arguably the most important form of creativity, and creativity is driven by positivity (and maybe vice versa).

At a more superficial level, creativity also comes in the form of new experiences and the development of different projects, whether it's a painting or creating an outfit for an upcoming Taylor Swift concert (lol). This summer I'm placing a focus on that, I want to paint, bake, write, run, listen, read, and see and do things that I've either been putting off or never thought about doing in the first place. I'm travelling as much as time and money can afford (including going back to DISNEY!!!!!!!), going to concerts, road trips, cutting and highlighting my hair, getting my ears pierced (if I can pluck up the courage), listening to new albums (to me personally - whether released yesterday or 30 years ago), supporting friend's projects, meeting new people, and I'm entering my 20's.

This summer will be wonderful, because I'm going to make it wonderful. I know that live can change in an instant, for better or worse, but regardless I want to take every step with a positive outlook, a clear mind and a smile on my face. :-)

Literally every year after Country 2 Country, I spend the next fortnight (at least) rolling in my own sadness, mourning the passing of the best weekend of the year.

It's no exaggeration saying that extending the festival to Scotland has done the most for the growth of the country music community up here than any move made before that. Not only does it allow fans to see artists they could only dream of seeing before (someone like Brad Paisley who I'd wanted to see live for almost my entire lifetime, but had always avoided performing in Scotland) , but it provides a platform for acts to showcase their work and introduce a new wave of fans to their music - while simultaneously allowing them to market returning tours to the UK. In the past 3 years alone, with the help of C2C in one way or another, and without leaving Glasgow, I've been able to see around 30 country acts, and many more than once. I'm now part of a growing community of wonderful people who also probably underestimated just how many country music fans there are around the country (and beyond).



This year I was lucky enough to be able to find tickets for the Q&A at BBC Scotland for both the Friday and Saturday, and unlike previous years, some of the artists gave a couple of acoustic performances - having fallen in love with Midland's debut album from the day of it's release in September, and not being able to afford tickets to the actual Friday night show (although Little Big Town are a definite favorite of mine, having just seen them in September and at their last C2C appearance in 2016, it wasn't totally essential - and I would have been going almost solely for Midland), this was might have been my highlight of the weekend. Midland are spectacular, their harmonies are flawless and almost ironically the classic country sound is totally refreshing. Like they said during their interview, the Texas sound gives an edge to their music that can be lost in the very pop/RnB influenced current country charts. Lukas Nelson's acoustic performances completely blew me away, with my dad fumbling for his phone to record a snippet to show his friends - which is honestly rare. Although I wasn't able to attend the Friday, I heard that due to sound issues, his performance in the arena itself left a bad impression - and I would encourage anyone who was left with a sour taste in their mouth to listen to his music, or at least to the acoustic performances that will be released in coming weeks.

<-Midland                         Lukas Nelson->

Unsurprisingly, Brett Young's performances at the Q&A were smooth and beautiful, and he was as charming as ever. Having missed a lot of his set when he opened for Lady Antebellum, being front and centre at such an intimate performance made up for it beyond anything I could have imagined.
Although disappointed Kelsea Ballerini didn't perform, being so close to someone I've admired for so long - having followed her career from the release of her debut and being able to see her at only her second performance at the Grand Ole Opry - being able to just listen to her talk about her career and the industry (AND ANSWER ONE OF MY QUESTIONS!!!!) was wonderful. She was bubbly and friendly and easily the best interviewee of all the sessions in terms of her answers and interactions with both Ricky Ross and the crowd.


<- Brett Young          Kelsea Ballerini ->

The beauty of the Hydro is that every seat has a great view, so for where a lot of the intimacy of past C2C's in the Armadillo was lost, I would trade it any day for a good view (rather than that of the nosebleed seats we had a few years ago for Miranda Lambert) - and even better, people in the upper levels don't get SCREAMED at and almost forced back down after standing up, and don't have their phones practically ripped from their hands when recording their favourite songs (which from my video of Carrie Underwood surprising us with a duet with Sam Hunt, I have both audio and visual proof of). Despite this, I would have still liked to see some of the acts in a smaller setting, but don't feel like we lost out on too much - and hopefully as the community only grows, more seats will be taken up, and the arena will be a little warmer.

Although the overall lineup didn't (PERSONALLY) quite match up to last year, as I honestly don't think you could top seeing Cam, Jennifer Nettles, Chris Young and Brad Paisley in the same night, and that doesn't include seeing LEGEND Reba, my new favourite Darius Rucker, queen Maren Morris and the list goes on and on - basically, I loved every single artist, it was a dream come true. HOWEVER that in no way lowered my hopes and expectations for this year seeing Tim McGraw and Faith Hill was a bucket list item, and Kacey Musgraves is someone who helped strengthen my love for country music with the release of Same Trailer Different Park when I was in high school - again, not to mention seeing Luke Combs and Sugarland in the same night.



The highlight of the Saturday night was maybe surprisingly Kelsea Ballerini - my hopes were SKY HIGH for her set, having seen her twice before, I knew she was amazing and a born performer, and she exceeded them. I totally can't wait for her to come back with a (long overdue) headlining tour in the UK, where I'll be front and centre. I only say 'surprisingly' because I expected the highlight to be Tim McGraw and Faith Hill - and while SCREAMING along to This Kiss and Live Like You Were Dying might be tied for the best moments of the whole weekend, a couple technical aspects let down the performance overall a little bit. Being high up, the lack of screens was a struggle, as I couldn't see them a lot, and occasionally the band overpowered their vocals. Aside from that, I can't fault it. It was still a dream come true.

The overall highlight, and my personal favourite set of the two nights, came from Luke Combs on the Sunday - his album is solid country gold, in the words of Midland. It's just fab, his voice in unreal, and he undoubtedly managed to create the best atmosphere. Everyone was out of their seats, everyone clapping away. Incredible. SOOOO excited to see his headlining show in October!!

Sugarland mean more to me than most acts, as Baby Girl was the song that initially helped me realise how much I love country music (alongside Online by Brad Paisley, I talk about Brad Paisley a lot but can't explain how much he impacted my taste in music). Seeing it live for a second time, and with the full band this time round, was so important and so moving to me. It's one of my favourite songs of all time from one of my favourite albums of all time. Sugarland means the world to me - and crying along to Stay was just the cherry on top of a wonderful country cake :-)))

I haven't seen Kacey Musgraves since 2014, and she was every bit as good as I remember. I had mentioned before how wary I was of her being a headliner because as much as I love her and was extremely proud of how far she's come even since the last time I saw her, I know others didn't feel the same way. My favourite songs are those that tell stories, and country music is filled with them, with Kacey Musgraves being one of the greatest songwriters and storytellers of recent. Her music is beautiful, and the show was vocally unreal - she hit every note, sang every word with crystal clarity and brought her classic sparkle to the stage. Her slow songs are her best, I know that with plenty of years of experience, but I couldn't help thinking that her set was MOSTLY sad songs. I could listen to endless sad, or slow, beautiful songs rich in visuals, and ultimately poetry - however I know many weren't quite as content with ending their weekend on anything other than a party. I get that, I do, but you can't put Kacey down as a performer. She is spectacular and always has been. Sure, I really would have liked to see Dime Store Cowgirl, My House, Pageant Material or Blowin' Smoke played - but I had also longed to see Fine, and could never pass up on It Is What It Is. Life is about compromise I guess, at least the compromise wasn't quality (or the amount of glittery sparkles).


If anyone has read this far, I applaud you (or myself, in the future reading this back). Country music means the world to me. It is something that runs in my veins, and something that I'll always naturally gravitate towards - evidently even if I can't afford to lol. C2C only breeds that love; it gives me an outlet where I can express myself among people who share passions that I had only ever previously found online. It is a celebration of songwriting and storytelling, of different personalities, and the continuously growing love of country music in all it's many shapes and sizes.

Every year since I can remember, I've always went to the effort of making resolutions - no matter how stupid the idea seems. Like every year, I've set myself the typical "get fitter, put down your phone more" stuff. Which, to be fair, I succeeded in mostly in 2016. I am much fitter than I was, although not as fit as I was earlier in the year when I was walking or running 30+ miles a week - but that's just down to weather and time restraints. I also set myself the aim of posting more selfies, and generally gaining a bit more confidence, and as much as I definitely posted more selfies than before, it wasn't so much down the more confidence than more of the pressure to accept myself as I am (another important lesson that I'm going to carry through with me to 2017, hoping the confidence I'm longing for follows suit).

However, along with a range of those little goals, like wanting to read more, try different types of exercise, cut down on sugar as much as possible etc, I want to strive for something bigger this year. I want to push myself to do something brave and exciting once a month this year. These don't have to be found universally brave or courageous, just something a little out for my comfort zone. For example, I want to get my ears pierced. The whole reason I haven't had them done up to this point is because I'm terrified of needles and I'm terrified of altering my body (a weird side effect of a crippling fear of change haha). Not only does this resolution let me tick fun things off my list, it means that I'm pushed to conquer fears and push personal boundaries, opening up so many new experiences. To name a few of the ideas I have, I want to walk the West Highland Way, and I'm planning on going interrailing in May/June. I've also wanted to try skydiving for so long, and that would be another cool experience to tick of the list.

Of course, these are just ideas, and I'll likely look back at this post in a year's time and laugh at my own naive ambition, but oh well, it's all a bit of fun. A new year means new beginnings, and new experiences/people/places/memories and I'm excited for it all. A new year does not necessarily mean a new me - but someone who uses the next 365 days to build on the person they've created and developed over the past 18 years.

With only a few weeks left of the year, it always seems fitting to reflect on the good, bad and the ugly of my past trip around the sun. 2016 has been a huge year in so many ways, and it's had it's share of ups and downs. To be fair, with so many changes in lifestyle and friends and circumstances, I already knew that the year was going to be a bit of a roller coaster (as much of a cliche as that is).

Although it's only fair to acknowledge the 'downs', in everything from current affairs, pop culture and just personally, I've made a huge effort this year to put a positive spin on everything. Fresh thinking has done a world of good for my mentality and general health. Everything, success or (traditional) failure, is a triumph. It is an experience and something that I can't change, so what's the point of letting it negatively affect my outlook or how I define my year?

All year I've kept a list of every little good and bad experience that I've had, and it's one of the best things I've done for myself. Being able to look at every obstacle and success and all the amazing experiences I've had generally this year has inspired me to expand the list next year.

A lot of my biggest achievements and best experiences this year have been milestones, like going to prom, leaving school (although admittedly, this was a little bittersweet), going abroad without my parents, meeting Jenna (can't say it's every day you meet your pen pal -if that's even the right word- from 1000000s of miles away), starting uni, travelling to London by myself (TWICE!!!!!), getting two jobs and passing my driving test.

Similarly as big; as of this year, I can now say it took me 3 attempts to pass my driving test, I got my tonsils out, and cried eating a yogurt because of it. I got hit by a bike on the day Trump became president. I failed my first exam (luckily it didn't count for anything). I had a bunch of interviews for jobs I didn't get. Not to mention all the times I've tripped over my own feet, dropped a huge barrel of fudge hot chocolate mix at work, and slipped running into a restaurant an hour late and grabbed a stranger's coat to steady myself. There are so many stories to tell off the back of these experiences, and in the long run, they help make me who I am and will be for the rest of my life.

Also, why would you focus on the negative aspects of those, when I could also go on about standing in the POURING rain at the top of the Arc de Triumphe without a jacket, and running through a giant ankle deep puddle in the middle of Disneyland Paris (much to the amusement of everyone who caught me trying to gallop around it and ended up just running through it). On the same trip, I ate a crepe under the Eiffel Tower and watched fireworks 4 nights in a row. THEN only a week later, I got to go snorkelling in some of the world's best beaches and coral reefs in Cuba - where I saw real wild barracudas, starfish and where we found a giant crab in our room one night. Our trip to Camaguey while we were there taught me how lucky I am to live in a country that allows us so many freedoms, but similarly broadened my views and knowledge of an entirely different country and culture.

These are only a sample of the amazing things that have happened this year, not including achievements in fitness/well being and a new positive outlook - which in themselves have been a huge success for me. 2016 has been amazing, and I feel so lucky to have met so many wonderful people and to have been given so many opportunities.

I'm beyond excited to make sure that the list of exciting things in 2017 only grows, both in success and inevitable failure. Here's to a new chapter! :-)

Love,
Lucy

Having experienced a constant sore throat for roughly two years, it was finally decided, at long last, that something had to be done about it. What could be done, no one was exactly sure of - however, despite not actually having a proper case of tonsillitis before, it was decided the best "experiment" would be to get my tonsils out.

I'd never had any kind of surgery before, and I was nothing short of terrified. Despite not being particularly squeamish, the thought of even the smallest of needles is enough to make me feel ill, let alone the thought of having a part of my body taken out. Hospitals up until this point had always been strange and foreign to me, I hadn't even imagined myself in a hospital bed. This all sounds dramatic but that's how I was, I was terrified to the point where we called the doctor to postpone it and were lucky to get our original date back.

Throughout my recovery, I kept a detailed diary of everything I was feeling/eating/doing over the course of the week (the second week was fairly mild and not really interesting at all). Prior to having the surgery, I found reading the experiences of others both useful and hugely interesting, they meant I was prepared for the worst - and hopefully this diary will be of use to anyone getting their tonsils out in the future!

I am a 17 year old girl from the UK, and it's important to remember that everyone has a different experience, this is just a guide to mine personally.

DAY 1 - Monday 11th April, 2016
I arrived at the hospital at around 8am, and was whisked into my hospital gown/hair thing/awful hospital pants fairly quickly. Following a lot of questioning and paperwork, I was told to take a seat and just watch some TV and read old magazines until it was my turn. Around 45 minutes before my surgery, I was asked several of the same repeat questions, and put in a bed and was able to spend a while making myself cosy while watching everything around me and just listening to the chat between the nurses. At around 11.30am, I was wheeled off into the anaesthetists room, making nervous small talk all the way.
The surgery went completely fine, and by far the worst part of it was having my IV put in my hand. The anaesthetists couldn't have been lovelier, trying to distract me from the pain of the IV being inserted, and trying to calm me down, I watched my heart rate on the monitor, before feeling a weird tingling in my jaw and falling straight to sleep.
In the blink of an eye, I was awake again, but this time, I was crying, God knows why, I was mostly just uncomfortable and was told that coming off the anaesthetic can make you irrationally emotional. Even in the moment, I was pretty gutted that I didn't feel drunk from the anaesthetic, I was just sad.
At this point, the pain was roughly a 4/5 out of 10. I was perfectly manageable, but it was really strange. After telling the doctor that, he drifted off for a minute before returning was a syringe of what I can only assume was morphine, out of curiosity, I asked what it was while he put it through the IV, only to be met with "very strong".
I was then moved to the ward, where I felt pretty fine, just a little tired and dizzy. It only hurt a little bit more when the "very strong" medicine began to wear off, but I was given another pain killer as soon as that was mentioned - sadly, this was no where near as effective as the could-be morphine.
After the mandatory 6 hour wait in the ward, and demonstrating my ability to eat, drink and pee, I was allowed to go home. In the UK we are under the instruction to eat rough foods such as toast and crisps, whereas in America you are advised to eat soft foods, make sure to follow your doctor's advice, but throughout the week I found that a balance between the two worked best for me.
I still felt fine, just a little achy. Still, I hadn't eaten properly all day and was starving, and decided to get an ice cream and a tiny packet of chips from McDonald's. Eating them was completely fine, but I was terrified when I realised I couldn't taste, after discovering in my research that tonsillectomies can change your sense of change for as long as a year, not to worry though - it came back within the next week!
I managed to eat lots in the evening, although mostly soft things, I was able to eat strawberries and a little bit of apple pie. As tiredness kicked in, so did the ache in my throat/jaw, and I decided to call it a night.

Summary;
Pain: 4.5/10
Tip: Bring a chap stick and a source of entertainment to the hospital, whatever they use to hold your mouth open can cause the corners of your lips to split, and in the 6 hour wait after surgery you can get awful bored!


DAY 2 - Tuesday 12th April, 2016I woke up only slightly worse than I had went to bed the night before, my voice was quiet but I was able to speak without TOO much pain. Prepared for actually feeling ok in the day(s) after surgery, I actually arranged to attend a training course at work, as I'd missed my induction on the Monday. Although given the option to delay training further in case it was too sore for me to come along, I knew it was all downhill from that point and just decided to go for it.
Aside from my throat feeling dry and scratchy, it was totally manageable and I ended up enjoying the training. Plus I got a free cold drink and lots of sympathy, which is always a plus ;)
As soon as I got home I had a shower, got into my jammies, took my painkillers and just lay down for the rest of the night.
It was on the Tuesday I discovered that I could eat toast (although painfully slowly), which pretty much provided the platform for my diet for the week.

Summary;
Pain: 6/10
Tip: Make the most of the first day or two after surgery, just don't exert yourself any, and don't fall into the false sense of security trap!


DAY 3 - Wednesday 13th April, 2016
The pain seriously kicked in on Wednesday. It was much worse and so much more uncomfortable, which left me nauseous for the most part of the day. I wasn't able to do anything apart from lie on the couch, keep taking my painkillers (ibuprofen and cocodamol) whenever due, and watch some films. On any other day I would take a couch/movie day over anything, but I would rather have ran a marathon than endured this.
Food was near impossible to eat, and water was just as bad (something no one tells you).
Around 9pm, the nausea took over, and I ended up throwing up pure bile and stomach acid because of the lack of food in my stomach. I honestly challenge anyone who thinks they have a high pain threshold to withstand stomach acid on two fresh holes in your throat. It wasn't pleasant.
I used an ice lolly to soothe my throat afterwards, but even that hurt, it was a nightmare.
My mum and dad got me a bucket to keep beside me in case I was sick again, which proved useful in carrying all my things around with me (phone, charger, water, socks, meds, hot water bottle, you name it) while walking around the house for the week.
It was also on Wednesday that I realised how bad my mouth tasted, no word of a lie, it tasted like rotting flesh. It was completely vile and in no way helped with the nausea. Water only ended up making the taste stronger. This part was easily one of the worst experiences of the whole recovery period.

Summary;
Pain: 8/10
Tip: Gum is a fantastic way of relieving pressure from the jaw, and in turn helps the throat (it also keeps it moist). Another benefit is that it masks the taste slightly, however, chewing gum while feeling sick and on an empty stomach is not a good mix.


DAY 4 - Thursday 14th April, 2016Just when I thought it couldn't get worse, it did, it was much worse. For about two seconds, I was fine, the worst was seemingly over, however, at the end of those two seconds (after gathering strength to actually peel my duvet back and get out of bed), I felt very suddenly dizzy and faint.
I carried myself to the bathroom as fast as I could walk while steady, and took my place beside the toilet in case any sickness came back. At this point, the room was spinning, and I was sweating through my jammies. Why did no one warn me about this? Was it normal? In the long run it caused no harm, and I wasn't even sick in the moment - so if this ever happens, or happened during your recovery, it is no reason to worry.
Putting it down to the pain killers being too strong for me, I just folded up a towel to use as a pillow on the bathroom floor. I lay there for about an hour, allowing myself to become less sweaty and disorientated, and decided that actually my day would be best spent in bed.
When I found any source of strength or energy again, I decided to make myself a piece of toast (which took me 20 minutes to eat) and then brushed my teeth to get rid of my awful smelling breath (didn't get rid of the awful taste much to my disappointment).
I gave up on chewing gum, because I was again afraid of nausea, and in the way of getting rid of the awful taste in my mouth, I just decided that a packet of tic tacs would do the trick.
The pain (mostly ear ache and general throat discomfort) was pretty unbearable all day, to the point where I decided I would put on a film I knew well (in this case it was Toy Story 2 and the original Cinderella) and just listen to them with my eyes closed because I was too tired to keep them open, and the pain prevented any sleep.
At long last, I fell asleep for around an hour, and woke up feeling a lot better and decided to attempt the journey downstairs to grab another piece of toast,
Feeling better was short lived, and I was in tears again about 10pm before taking the strong painkillers again and going to bed.

Summary;Pain: 9/10
Tip: Sleep and rest are the best cure, if you can't do it, don't do it. Just rest.


Day 5 - Friday 15th April, 2016THE WORST WAS OVER.
I woke up and felt pretty fine until I went downstairs, where I was met with unbearable earache which made me teary again. I tried to make myself a cold banana and ice cream milk shake for breakfast, but just accepted I was going to have to accept that regardless of what I ate, it would taste like shit. Hoping I drunk enough to line my stomach, I took my painkillers.
With the use of a hot water bottle over my ears, the pain eased off and for the most part of the afternoon, I felt ok again. I watched a film, and for the first time since surgery I decided to try a 'proper' hot meal, if you can call a tiny bowl of Heinz spaghetti a hot meal. It was surprisingly easy to eat, but again, tasted bland,
The ear ache returned around an hour on either side of dinner, which I just used a fresh hot water bottle and pain killers for.
For the first time all week, I was able to set up and focus on my laptop screen, meaning I could finally start doing school work and online training etc.
On Friday I was also able to drink a lot more water, which helped a lot but brought back the vile rotting flesh taste back, stronger than ever.

Summary;
Pain: 8/10 at worst, for the most part of the day it was around a 6-7
Tip: Ear ache can be ridiculously sore and hard to get rid of, a hot water bottle is your best shot in my experience!


Day 6 - Saturday 16th April, 2016I woke up with sore ears, and with the same awful taste in my mouth and it was at this point I completely gave up. My solution was just not to talk, and using a hot water bottle to help with the ear ache (for the first time, it was predominately my left ear - I realised this had to do with the size of the scabs on my tonsil beds).
I battled through a yogurt purely so I could take ibuprofen, and luckily got much better as the day went on, I watched some things and went on my laptop again.
My mum (and the doctor) had been encouraging me to eat "rough" foods, but I was still terrified. I decided that I was feeling good enough, and would try to eat a bit of chicken. Which was easily the worst mistake I had made all week.
Although I struggled, I managed to finish it - and that's when the pain got intense. My ears SCREAMED and my whole mouth (jaw, tongue, tonsil beds) ached as if they'd been shot. The result of this was tears and a fresh hot water bottle, and as many pain killers as I was allowed. Sadly the whole ordeal ruined what had been the best day of recovery so far.
Once the pain subsided, I was fine, I managed to have a bit of ice cream and a tiny bit of chocolate cake and watched Les Miserables while mouthing along to all my favourite parts.
I had a bath, took more pain killers (a considerable amount of time after my last dose) and went to sleep feeling better than I had all week,

Summary;
Pain: 9/10 for the worst part after dinner, rest of the day was between 5-6
Tip: Baths are great during recovery because the heat and steam softens the tonsil beds, easing the pain, they also help you relax and get a better sleep if you've been lacking it.


Day 7 - Sunday 17th April, 2016
Woke up around 10 with the worst ear ache I'd had all week, it took over my whole head and felt like every part of my face and brain were throbbing. For the first time I would give the pain a 10/10, and decided to go against my policy of no cocodamol before bed time - I would have taken anything to get rid of it. The medicine knocked me out and I didn't wake up until around 12.30pm, but I felt so much better.
As soon as I surfaced and went downstairs, the pain came back. It was no where near as bad as the first bout, but sore enough, and talking was so much harder than usual.
In an attempt to eat a yogurt, purely so I could take some painkillers, I ended up stopping two mouthfuls in, in more pain than was justifiable when eating a yogurt, and the result was me curled up in a ball in tears - yet again.
I hadn't accepted it yet, but I would soon find out that eating was the trigger for completely unbearable ear ache, no matter what I was eating.
As soon as I felt well enough after my painkillers, I jumped in the shower hoping to at least feel slightly cleaner, but simply standing at this point was uncomfortable. The minute I got out |I was back under my blanket with a hot water bottle and fresh jammies.
I managed to eat a slice of toast, and had several pieces of gum and tic tacs in the 6 hours before dinner - which was yet again, Heinz spaghetti.
The only difference? The pain after swallowing. It was as if I had taken a step down from a couple of days ago, swallowing itself at this point was fine, but it was followed by the most unbearable pain across both ears, and my jaw and tongue,
It all subsided eventually, and I felt fine for the rest of the night.

Summary;
Pain: 8/10 for ear ache, everything else was just a 5/10
Tip: As much as you probably won't/can't be bothered, a shower will do you well. Not to mention that you're family and friends will be thankful too.



I didn't document the second week of recovery because most days were the same, not horrendous, but very achey. My tongue hurt more than anything, which I put down to the bruises you get when the thing is put into your mouth to prop it open.
I was only able to do things in 2 hour blocks (per day), so don't plan anything particularly long for the second week, and be wary of catching even the common cold, Recovery is EXHAUSTING, and it's hard to explain just how tiring. I was asleep for a large part of the second week just simply because my body was working away at recovering.

I hope that this diary will be helpful for anyone curious about what recovery is like, and I'm always open to questions about it in case I forgot to mention something or your want to know more!