Time Out

I am a person who likes Doing Things. This has been true for many years. My mum always used to wonder how I can manage to fill my time, especially summer holidays. I was always busy, never really bored. Even though I have brothers and sisters, I was very good at entertaining myself and finding something to do. Even if that something wasn’t useful. Sims 2 anyone? 

I recognise this in myself as a good trait. It means I am more inclined to try new things, to explore the world, go to events by myself and generally whittle away the hours in contentment. 

My home for the next three days. Aaaaand relax. #Portugal #travelling pic.twitter.com/Gn1taFbzNQ

— Debbie (@SnugglingonSofa) October 18, 2016

Lately however, its become more problematic. I have a job which takes up quite a lot of my life, and more recently its become a little unbalanced so I’ve dedicated more of my life to work. Which is fine, except something else has to give. There is no wiggle room. But the problem is, I really like my life. I enjoy spending time with friends, eating out and going to the theatre and cinema, travelling and going to new places. I’m also working on my 30 Before 30 List. 

So as a result, my juggling became more and more chaotic until I started dropping balls. My mum got upset that I wasn’t talking to her much. Friends were annoyed that I kept cancelling or disappearing. I was trying to run (literally, 5k) on very little sleep. Consequently, my mental health suffered. My anxieties shot through the roof. I was stressed out and ironically I didn’t even have the time to plan how to deal with it. 

As many of you know, lists are my thing. I love a spreadsheet and a to list. But sometimes, I forgot that life shouldn’t be one giant task. I was so busy ticking things off that I forgot to actually savour the moment. While its great to have lots of amazing stuff planned, sometimes spontaneity is okay. Not doing anything is also okay. 

Luckily for me, work is going to calm down a little for the next few months. And of course I am seizing this opportunity to get lots of things done (like finally teaching myself to cook!!) but I also recognise the need to look after myself too. Because I haven’t been, and that needs to change. There is no point accomplishing things if I am tearing my hair out whilst doing it.

So right now, I am curled up with a blanket writing this blog post. And when its done, I’m going to treat myself to a film. No social media, no blogging or net surfing or multitasking. Brains deserve a break too!

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Phantom Phobias

Living in the UK, Halloween has never really been a big deal to me. I was quite a sheltered child, and I didn’t have a lot of friends when I was little. So trick or treating was never really something that excited me, or something I ever considered doing? I never liked to play dress up as a kid either. I didn’t have a huge imagination; the most I ever got to pretending was picking out a life from the Argos catalogue or playing schools with my siblings. 

And then Halloween just got annoying for me; kids ringing the doorbell all night, my dog barking, eggs being thrown about…. I never associated it with fun.

via GIPHY

At some point in my life, I developed a phobia of people in costumes. It got to the point where once I was leaving the supermarket and someone was standing by the door (collecting for charity i think?) in a bear costume, and I physically could not walk out the door.

It’s become less of a problem in recently years. Maybe because I acknowledge it more and just avoid those situations? Generally those people are in the street, and if I don’t look and just keep walking, I’m mostly fine. It reared its head at YALC this year though. For those of you who don’t know, YALC is the YA Literature Convention and it takes place at London Film and Comic Con. Where, of course, people love to dress up as their favourite film or comic characters. In costume. In the whole building. 

And I was already tense at the thought, but I told myself it would be fine. I was just walking along the corridor with a friend and some people in costume were standing nearby having a conversation, and i just turned away and kept walking, and then one of them came up behind me and BREATHED IN MY HAIR. 

Before we even approach how creepy this is anyway (just because he’s wearing a mask he is suddenly allowed to invade my personal space?) but there was no reason for him to do so. I hadn’t made eye contact, it wasn’t someone I knew, or anything. Cue massive panic attack in the floor of the arena.

via GIPHY

So for me, Halloween is a time of stress. Yay, people in costume everywhere. Yay for living in London where there are literally people, everywhere. I guess kids bother me to a lesser degree, but its still an issue. 

My ideal Halloween involves locking myself indoors and not having to deal with any surprises. Luckily I live in a flat, where the chance of getting trick or treaters are pretty slim, so I don’t even have to deal with the guilt of that. But if you do encounter me at Halloween, don’t be surprised if I run away. And, for the love of god, do not sneak up on me with your mask.

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Music is the Strongest form of Magic

As far as I can remember, I always have been a music lover. As a child I used to record songs from the radio onto cassette (yes, I am that old). Half the fun was trying to get the timing perfect so you had no silly radio DJ talking at the beginning or end, just pure music. My sister and I used to make up dance routines to music videos, and I went to dance classes. Even now, the songs I spent hours learning the choreography too still stick in my head. 

When somebody asks that famous question of your favourite music, my answer is that I have eclectic tastes. How can you answer with just one song or genre? It's impossible. Sometimes the music just gets to you, and you have no choice. 

More recently, I realised that I actually listen to music quite a lot. I stick my earphones in as soon as I leave the house, and they’re with me for my whole commute, whilst shopping, whilst driving, whilst sleeping, whilst blogging. I just love my life to have a soundtrack.

via GIPHY

But is most important to me is how I can use music as a form of escapism. It’s a way to distance myself from the thoughts in my head but also the world. I don’t have to think about the crowded commute or be distracted by the people around me. It helps me to focus, and to zone out some of the anxieties and madness going on inside. 

I recently broke a pair of headphones in the middle of the day, and it shocked me how much it affected me. I couldn’t stop thinking about how I would cope, and I became ultra aware of all my surroundings, and all the things I usually blocked out. Needless to say, I immediately went out and bought another pair. I need my safety blanket of headphones. 

On the flip side, music connects me to the world. I love discovering new artists through recommendations, and creating playlists with my friends. I like dancing to songs and feeling that moment when you can just belt out your favourite tune. To be at a gig for your favourite band, and stand singing along with everyone in the crowd, those moments are indescribable. I feel like part of something big and united and it makes something fizzle inside me.

What is amazing is that everyone has a different story, a different experience. Maybe it's the song you first danced to at your wedding, or had your first kiss. The song of the summer, or that tune you just can’t get out of your head. 

Music is my calmness, my alternate reality when things get too harsh in life. I love that I can just take a step back into the world of headphones, and zone out for a little while. My little world away from the world.

I've made a little playlist of a few of my current favourites. If you bump into me, it's likely I'm bopping along to one of these.

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Do You Remember?

I get asked this question a lot. When I answer no, it is often met with an eyeball or a sigh or an exclamation of disbelief. Sometimes I lie, but that can always be a dangerous move, especially if you are caught out later!

I don’t quite know why I am so bad at remembering things. I’ve always loved a good to-do list, and my calendar is my godsend. But a lot of other people are the same. So what makes me any different?

It’s gotten to the stage where I can’t remember a conversation that happened a few days ago, or what i need to buy at the supermarket. I forget about books I’ve read and am meant to be reviewing, or places I’ve been to. I forget what I ordered last time, and for someone that likes to always try new things, this is devastating news. I also (ironically enough) always forget about blog posts I have previously scheduled, including my Safe Space ones! It is also quite disconcerting when people remember stuff about you that you have no recollection of doing or telling them. 

As many of my friends will know, I also have issues with always being sleepy. I don’t know if this is linked, and its something I’m in the process of finding out! But either way, I need to learn how to deal with my scatter brains. I’m trying my best to adapt to it. Here are some of the things that help me out:

• LISTS. I already mentioned that I love a list. Except now I have a list for everything. I have made spreadsheets for books I’ve received and want to read, places I’ve been to and want to visit, future events and money I’ve spent. I keep a personal to do list. I also keep one at work, crossing things as I go, scheduling things in for the week to come. At the end of each working day I go through the list from today and reschedule anything I haven’t done for tomorrow or subsequent days. You might think I can look at the previous day, but then things get missed and it causes stress. 
• REMINDERS. I don’t use these as much as I should. I tend to dismiss them on my phone because the notification irritates me, rather than using it to actually do the thing. Also the reminder always comes when I am busy, but I then subsequently forgot about what I'm meant to have done!
• BLOG POSTS. Not only do they serve as a good memory of a great time or a favourite book, they are also a reminder of where I’ve been. Me and my friend Stacey use the Swarm app to check into places, and its been really helpful in figuring out whether I’ve already visited somewhere. 
• GREAT FRIENDS. Quite possibly the most important point. My friends are really understanding when I am constantly asking them for reminders of times and meeting places. It also means I quite often repeat myself, as I can’t remember conversations easily. 

I don't really know what lies ahead. My mum is quite forgetful, and I always use to laugh at her as a kid but maybe it is hereditary. Quite possibly when I get my sleep issue sorted out (more on that another time!), I’ll get better at remembering things. For now, I'm just trying my best to stay organised in my own quirky little way! I'd love to hear your organisation tips. 

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Proud of Being in Pride

When I planned out my Safe Space topics, I knew that June was going to be about sexuality. Its Pride month, and it seemed appropriate to shout about. I thought this would be a post about being bisexual, or the difficulties in getting dates, but instead, I want to talk about how Pride month this year has been different. 

For the past two years, i.e. as long as I’ve lived in London, I’ve volunteered at Pride. It has been a great way to meet new people. I enjoy being part of it, and have always had great fun afterwards in the depths of Soho.

Flashback to 2014, my first time volunteering at London Pride and meeting Dr Christian! #Pride #London #LGBT #LondonPride #Londonlife

A photo posted by Snuggling on the Sofa (@snugglingonthesofa) on Jun 26, 2016 at 4:48pm PDT

I knew this year was going to be a little different, because one of my best friends joined the Navy, and he was my go-to party friend. I also missed an interview for the role I wanted at Pride, because I had to work. So I dithered and dithered about what else to volunteer for. 

And then Orlando happened. 

I know that America has tons of shootings all the time, but this just really shook me. I don't know whether it was the scale of trauma, or the fact it occurred in Pride month, in a gay club, where people were dancing away. It could have easily been me. I attended a vigil in Soho with my friend Charlie the day after, but nothing really seemed to scratch the surface. 

Not to mention work has been extremely busy and what with all the Brexit drama, my Twitter timeline (i.e. my home) has been so full of despair. I convinced myself on Friday that going to Pride wasn’t a good idea. I just wanted to retreat into the Sim world where there is no segregation. 

And then Saturday morning, I got dressed, and just burst into tears. I don’t know what happened. I can’t even use the excuse of a soppy film. Maybe my outfit was that bad?! Anyway, I trekked into Central London with the view of doing some blogging, and obviously ended up on Twitter, and then I saw this. 

He said yes @LondonLGBTPride @MetLGBTNetwork @LGBTpoliceuk #policewithpride #ByYourSide #AB #DI #CA #AC #LH pic.twitter.com/9jOmlY33PH

— MET LGBT Network (@MetLGBTNetwork) June 25, 2016

 So yes more tears. But this time of hope, and love, and glad that these men chose this day, this parade and moment to express their love. And my heart burst. And I realised more than ever do I need to be part of it. So I went out and cheered on the parade, and met up with friends, and partied in Soho along with what felt like a gazillion other people.

While my 2016 Pride wasn’t what I thought it would be, it was a step forward in reaffirming my hope in the world, and a future where Love is Love and there is joy in society. Where people can express themselves freely and not live in fear. And even though I didn’t really make things happen this year, just by being part of the crowd, waving that flag and cheering people on, I stood together with people. And above all else, that’s what matters.

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Keep Running Up That Hill

Yesterday I went to watch the London Marathon for the first time. I'm gonna be honest, but I was brought to tears within about 5 minutes of watching them sail past. And it wasn't just because of all the chafed nipples. 

 About a month and a half ago, one of my best friends Caitlin wrote a list of 30 things to do before she turns 30. I thought this was a nice idea, so being the great friend that I am, I stole it. So far my list only has about 21 things on it.

But one of the things on it is to be able to run 5k. I'm not entirely sure why I put this on the list. I can't run. I've always hated it. I will rarely run for the bus, and that's about the only time I really consider it. But with the giant trend of people doing #couchto5k, and my appalling lack of exercise, it was probably a good idea. 

 And then one of my friends at work started running, and I thought it would be nice to be able to share playlist songs. And it would actually be quite a bonus not to be a sweaty hyperventilating mess everytime I have to climb a hill or go up the stairs.

So I started running. And I've discovered several things about myself in the process:

 - It doesn't matter how fast or slow I run, I'm still convinced i look like a grasshopper with jazz hands.

- Breathing is HARD. I miss one step and I'm suddenly all over the shop. 

- Music is really helpful. When I find the right song I am off and its all I can think about and it feels good! 

- Except when a good song comes on its surprisingly difficult not to sing out loud (sorry neighbours). 

- I'm a total wimp when it comes to getting out of bed. Especially when it involves going outside *curls up under my blanket* 

- I find it quite hard to fit it in around my crazy work hours. 

But its quite satisfying to be able to do something at least semi regularly. Not only am I succeeding at something, I am proving to work that I can have a life. And that's really important to me.

 

I'm currently up to 5 minutes of running constantly, and up to about 3k of total running when I go. Which is why yesterday when I looked into the faces of the people in the marathon I could sense so much emotion. The pain and struggle alongside pure determination. It was just raw. And oh so very inspiring. 

I want to be able to say that I can run, instead of dismissing it as a weakness. I'm not sure I'm ever gonna get to the point of running 26 miles. But if I can achieve my goal of 5k, then that will be my version of the marathon. And I will smash it.

 

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Being Clear About Getting a Smear

In the UK, once a woman turns 24 or 25, she is invited to go for a cervical screening test, or a 'smear' test. They then need to be tested every 3 years until they turn 50. My 24th birthday came and went, and my screening letter arrived on my doorstep. I promptly opened it, tossed it to one side, and forgot about it. 

Why, you might ask? Maybe it's down to the fact that I am notoriously bad at booking appointments; it took me 18 months after moving to actually register with a GP. But I think deep down I was also feeling what pretty much every woman feels when they receive the letter: apprehension. 

And I'm not really sure. I'm quite blasé about illnesses; I don't worry about catching diseases or developing conditions. I'm pretty laid back in life and it's just not something that I (thankfully) have anxieties about. 

And I knew the procedure might be a little embarrassing, but I've had several STI tests (better safe than sorry!) and from what I gather, they are pretty much the same. Yes it's an inconvenience, but it's over within minutes. 

Yet I joined the thousands of women who put off having their smear tests every year. It wasn't until I received my third reminder letter, and my friend (who I share the same birthday with) booked her's, that I figured that I should just go ahead and book mine.

Smear tests are performed at your GP surgery, and are generally done by a nurse. I worried about stuff that is ENTIRELY irrelevant. What do I wear? How much should I groom? Should I shower before? Or would that affect the results? 

All of this is completely irrelevant! If you want to be able to cover up quickly, I would recommend a skirt, as you can just whip it up for the action and then flop it back down again. But the nurse will give you as much time as you need to take clothes on and off, so just wear whatever is comfortable. I don't recommend fifty layers because you will probably end with something upside down/back to front. 

With regards to the procedure itself – look away now if you're particularly squeamish! – it's pretty straightforward. Once I had undressed from the waist down, I lay down on the couch. They may raise the bed as necessary, so don't be alarmed if you are two feet higher than when you started! It's to save the nurses having to convolute themselves over your nether regions. 

Next comes the part most people dread: the speculum. It's either plastic or metal, and is inserted inside the vagina to hold the walls open so that your cervix can be accessed easily. This may feel a little cold, and some people say a little painful, but I barely felt it at all. There is a slight pressure inside as they take the swab. It's quite hard to describe, but for me it was like a little poke, and just felt very deep? Like an 'oh, that's my cervix!' kind of response.

Bearing in mind the swabbing takes approximately 15-20 seconds, and the speculum 20 seconds to put in and out, the actual examination takes less than a minute. They will ask you some basic questions beforehand, and you can expect results within two weeks. 

The main feeling I came out with is 'why hadn't I done this sooner?'. It's a relatively pain-free experience, took 5-10 minutes of my time, and meant that I can be confident that at least one part of my body is healthy. For the same reason I get STI tested, it's just for peace of mind. And it's great to finally tick off my to-do list! 

If your sample has any cell abnormalities, it will be tested for human papilloma virus (HPV), and if this is positive, you will be asked to go for further testing, known as a colposcopy. There are over 100 different types of HPV, and only a few of these are linked to cancer. 

My results showed 'changes to some of the cells in my cervix'. There was evidence of HPV, but this does NOT necessarily mean I'll need treatment. If you get the same response, I would please urge you to not panic at this stage. If you have low grade changes, most cases do not lead to cancer. However, a colposcopy should confirm what will need to happen next. 

How did I feel about my results? A bit eye-roll worthy, to be honest! It's just my luck that this would happen. I'm glad I eventually went, because having something go undetected could be dangerous, so if I do need treatment, better sooner than later! At the same time, I know the second test is not a result of me delaying the smear, and it probably wouldn't have made a difference if I had been tested straight away. 

What I will say to anyone who has received the invitation letter... just go and have it done. I felt a huge relief once it was over, and it's such a simple procedure. You may not need one if you haven't been sexually active, so check with your GP to see whether you need one or not. 

My colposcopy is booked for next week, so wish me luck! It'll be interesting to have giant binoculars pointing at my vagina...

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Single and Free

I am a person who (on the whole) likes to do things. Especially New Things. Whether this means visiting new places abroad or locally, new food flavours or new activities.

Don't get me wrong, I love doing things with my friends and they are amazing, but they don't always want to do the same things I do. And I don't want to miss out just because I don't have someone to do things with. But I have one huge bugbear, and that comes from when I tell people I'm doing an exciting thing:

"Who are you doing that with?"

Why? Why MUST there be someone else? Why do we, as a society, assume that people come in pairs or more? Why is it socially unacceptable to do things by yourself?

The thing people find most weird is when I say I am going on holiday alone. And yes, I accept that (in my experience) holidays are better with friends. But if they can't afford to go anywhere, or don't have the time, or don't want to go, then should it mean I have to stay at home until I can find someone? I don't think so.

And there are many perks of holidaying alone. I can choose exactly when and where I want to go. If I make plans but then decide to stay in bed instead, the only person I'm disappointing is myself. I don't have to rely on someone being on time, or waiting for them to get up in the mornings. Yes I would be responsible if the trip was a disaster, but I also don't have to be concerned with how much other people are enjoying themselves. There is no fear of arguments or the awkward undecisive moments (except in my own head). Being on holiday alone also gives me a chance not just to explore my surroundings, but helps me to grow as a person, discover more about myself and to gain confidence in being me. Sometimes an accomplishment can be greater if I am the sole motivator.

And yes I begrudge paying a supplement just because I'm single. But this sometimes means an extra bed to jump on which is always a bonus! And when I go for dinner and they ask if I want a table for two, I will not be ashamed that it's 'just me' and I will hold my head high when they come and take away the cutlery for my imaginary partner that is no longer needed. I've decided that I can't stop living my life because I'm single.

And just because I've decided that, it also doesn't mean I want to be single forever. But regardless, it's unlikely I'm going to ever meet anyone if I don't get out in the world. As fun as curling up in bed with Netflix is, it certainly won't help me with new experiences. I also question how happy it really makes me, when the Fear overcomes my desire to get out there. Because I do really enjoy doing things. And I actually really like doing things that are just mine and that I don't have to share with anyone else.

Because being single can be pretty great. The world is mine for the taking and a ticket for two is not a necessity.

 

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What Makes Me, Me - Debbie

I actually found it really hard when thinking about what makes me the person I am. So I've decided to share with you a small part of my personality and habits as a little insight.

One of the first things people learn about me is my liking for sweet things. Ever since I was small I've had a sweet tooth. On the face of it, dessert seems quite a simple addiction. But it wasn't until my friend Caitlin came to visit recently that I began to dissect what the addiction really was.

You see, I buy a lot of chocolate. But my bedroom is also full of chocolate. Now if I was eating it all, then surely I would be constantly running out? But that's not the case. Quite often I buy it and don't even open it. Or take a few bites, and then won't touch it for months.

I mean, don't get me wrong. Sweet stuff tastes yummy. I love the taste and I enjoy trying new things. And most of the stuff I buy, its because its an unusual flavour, or because I want to try it. So only having a little bit, has satisfied that curiosity. I also often have some just before bed, and I don't really know why, but its a habit I've gotten into.

But as a self confessed dessert lover, why don't I just eat all the chocolate? Maybe its purely the act of buying it that I find comforting, rather than actually eating it. Maybe its a safety blanket in case I have a bad day, and I know I always have a great supply of chocolate to hand. Maybe its so that people will like me more. Because people want to go out for cake a lot more than they do salads. Maybe even its a compulsion, to fulfill what people think of me, or to hoard things, to distract myself.

Maybe its just something that makes me, me.

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