There's a fire in me. It's been there as long as I can remember. It has the potential for danger, but it mostly burns the soft oranges and yellows of a candle or campfire. Occasionally it turns blinding white. When watching the world burn seems like the only option. Sometimes it's blue. A blowtorch ready … Continue reading Flash Fiction: Fire
I don't think I have an especially strange relationship with fear. Not like my relationships with other emotions anyway. I will start off by saying, through writing these blog posts I've realised how much the curse of Anxiety and OCD, then the blessing of an incredibly fertile imagination have fed into my relationship with fear, … Continue reading Fear and Me: So It Begins…
I've always had a pretty good grasp on myself. On who I am, on what makes me tick, on what shapes my mental health. That's not to say I've not had to learn things. I've had my tiny little mind blown several times as the dots have been connected in front of me, and it … Continue reading Hollowness and Guilt; Terrible Shades of Grief
I have this weird relationship with success. As soon as there's a whiff or a tiny hint of it I pull back from the thing that's been successful. I'm not sure where it comes from. I've never had any traumatic experiences with success. I never gained it all and lost it all. I never fell … Continue reading I Have A Really Strange Relationship With Success or Where My Inconsistency Comes From.
Recently a series of things have crossed and intertwined and made me realise the weakness that I have let grow and fester inside me. Now I don't mean a weakness like my love of pizza or my serious obsession with hellmans vegan bacon mayo (put it on EVERYTHING, seriously!). I'm talking about something that might have traditionally been perceived as weakness but is actually a strength. I'm talking about vulnerability and the thing that has grown and festered inside me is the inability to be vulnerable.
I know how that sounds, especially given the amount of times I've screamed "Noooooooo why must you hurt me like this...." at a piece of storytelling. What I'm talking about here isn't the absolute devastation of a character death or a piece of fiction killing you with feels as two characters fall in love. I'm talking about the kind of hurt that runs deep. The betrayal when a favourite piece of fiction disappoints.