Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash

I’m ashamed to admit this… but I hate being single

Featured image credit: Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash

Being single the past 18 months or so has not been a journey of self-discovery. Unless that self-discovery includes developing an unwaivering sense of aloneness. It is alienating being the only single one out of everybody you know. The condescending sympathetic looks paired with the patronising words of ‘encouragement’ reminding you that “he’s out there” or “you’ll find someone”, make me want to scream. But my hatred of singledom is not just about peer pressure, it’s a feeling, a need, a want deep down inside of me.

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A Chronic Case of Self-doubt

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Over many years, I have refined the ability to pick myself apart. Every idea I have ever had, every endeavour I’ve thought I’d like to try, they always get the once over by my self-doubt. So good I am that I don’t even have to question myself anymore, I just pass the sentence – you will fail, you are awful, you are bad at this, you will be bad at this, you aren’t liked by anyone, you are wrong (again).

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The Impossible Task of Finding Yourself

Featured imaged credit: Maksym Kaharlytskyi on Unsplash

What does finding yourself even mean? Is it different to different people, or is it a universal thing? What part of you does it relate to: your personality, your physicality, your psychology, your beliefs, your opinions? Or is it all of those and more?

When I stand in front of a mirror, I’m not sure what I see. I can tell you my name and my date of birth. But sometimes I feel as if that is all I know for sure about myself.

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Painting Your Life by Numbers

Featured image credit: Elena Mozhvilo on Unsplash

In my life, I am the tortoise and everyone else is the hare. Except the hares aren’t napping. They’re either pairing up, moving in together, getting engaged, getting married, starting families, getting promoted, moving house, or all of them in very quick succession.

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When You Despise the Skin You’re In

Featured image credit: Brad Helmink on Unsplash

Since I was a baby I have had eczema. It’s come and gone in severity through the years but for much of my childhood and early teens it remained on my body in the typical locations: backs of knees, crooks of elbows, anywhere that folded or got sweaty. But then I turned 18 and my face and neck decided they wanted in on the action.

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Pressing Reset on Social Media

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Back in the day, I remember being the first among my school friends to sign up to Bebo. I don’t recall it much but I’m sure it overtook my life as did anything on the internet. Fortunately I’ve managed to put the cringe-inducing username and photos to the back of my mind. Its popularity fizzled out among us after a few years and everyone jumped ship to join Facebook. I, however, did not follow suit.

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Coming Off Antidepressants (My Experience)

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I’d like to preface this piece by stating that I am not a medical professional. This is based on my personal experience alone and will differ for everyone. You should always seek guidance from your doctor or GP before making changes to your medication.

I had the discussion with my doctor over the phone.

I told her I’d started feeling exactly how I had done before she prescribed me antidepressants almost a year ago, and was wondering if I needed to up the dose or come off them entirely. She agreed that either could work and so the decision was mine to make.

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Beginnings

Featured image credit: Danielle MacInnes on Unsplash

Kairos (Greek): the delicate, fleeting and yet perfect moment, right time and right place that creates the opportunity for actions, words, or movement.


Throughout my life I’ve had many false starts, and would-be starts, what I thought were starts which were actually endings, but most of all, I’ve spent much of my time waiting for the perfect conditions to establish before I start and as a result I have not started.

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