flashback of a fool

For those of you who are Daniel Craig/film buffs will understand the title of this post, based on a film I adore where Daniel Craig's character, an out of work/shape actor tries to kill himself by swimming out to sea and hoping the ocean does the rest of the work for him, but instead takes him back through his memories where much of his childhood was spent by the sea. Its a film worth watching and the cinematography and camera work is so beautiful and amazingly done. Plus it came with an awesome sound track that is a pure blast from the past and had me humming quite a bit with the tracks I couldn't get out of my head.

There is something strangely evocative about the sea isn't there? We all have our memories and I dare say a lot of them trigger much of our senses as well. The way sand feels under our feet and through our fingers, the taste of the sea air and ice creams on our tongues, the smell of suncream, dried up seaweed and salty rock pools, how the sunlight dances over the crashing waves...Its enough to bring out the inner poetic in anyone I guess!

I went to the beach on what was a last minute, on the day decision and its one that bought up a lot of memories, thoughts and emotions. We headed down to what was known as a secret surfer's paradise called Bantham beach, stuck out in the middle of nowhere and it certainly made an impression on us when we arrived with the typical "welcome to Bantham Village." being artfully graffitied to welcome all drivers to "please die and park carefully!" Despite claiming to not been to this beach before, I started realising I was wrong.

Bantham beach is indeed very popular with all kinds of watersports, while I was there I saw Kite-surfers and kayakers as well as the typical surfers but this isnt why this beach is famous.

This beach is famous for Burgh Island, an island only accesible when the tide is low and on this private island is a hotel that was built around 1929 and was famous for being the holiday destination of choice for the likes of Agatha Christie and Noel Coward.

Here you can see on the left just about the thin strip of beach that connects the island to the mainlands and around 2-3 hours later, the sea completely seperating off. 

Its a beautiful beach, the sand is so fine and powdery which was a suprise to find in Devon and the views were stunning.

I even swam in the sea for a good hour and what was nice, was how we all split off to do our own things and be in our own worlds for a bit. The longer I was there, the more convinced I had been here before. A conversation with my muma confirmed I had as a child and I as well as my baby brother pratically grew up on this beach as children until my wild ways and concerns for my safety meant my mum had to stop taking me and find a smaller and safer beach to go to. Apparently I would get to the beach and immediately made a run for the sea, wearing no hearing aids and ever the athlete, would run for miles in the shallow waters oblivious to family members chasing after me and the shouts of the public and life gaurds to stop.

I even gotten rescues by said life guards for being "too fearless" and wading out to the sea and pretending I was a mermaid, trying to imitate Daryl Hannah from the film Splash! and said lifeguards mistaken my mermaidy splashings as signs that I was drowning...

I can remember climbing over the huge spit of rocks, rock-pooling and investigating the caves in the area and trying but failing to pull mussels off their perches on the rock faces.

Being on that beach took me back to my childhood and back to where all those memories I had and who I've become since.

I be honest, a few weeks back I wasn't in the greatest of shape as I had mentioned in a previous post. My parents were and are still really stuck and struggling to keep their daughter going at times. It was like I completely broke down to being a child again. the mental pain became physical to the point that one night I actually physically walked down to the family kitchen and stared at the knifeblock, actually relishing the idea of watching the blades slicing through my skin and watching the pain bleed away. I had even to the point started composing texts to send to the nearest and dearest that night and explaining it all to my dad afterwards was a challenge and I guess he started to understand a little just how scary and bad things really were.I felt so alone. I was and still am hurting so bad for so many reasons and I don't know how to cope with how life has carried me on it's tides to where I am today. I guess I am heartbroken and for that, there is no cure except maybe time. Im sorry if its a depressing and low thing to read dear readers. 

Drifting in the sea, I felt in a way I've come back to the roots of where the start of who I was began. The child who was nicknamed "rotweiler" by her family for her strength and sheer determination and seeing something and never letting go until she got the results she wanted or were for the best, a child that just got on with it, ignored all the nasty comments, the bullying both verbal and physical, the awareness she couldnt fit in like everyone else and was socially isolated due to never being able to communicate well or keep up but just kept on going, never wanting anyone to feel sorry for her. I could almost see that little ghost of her running along that beach, lost in her world as she splashed in the sea.  I was sitting in the same ghostly spot occupied by my muma on the beach, my feet in the sand where her feet once was, torn between the fearless child I was and the fearful adult I have become.

 Even as an adult, I would spend ages in the water and I did that day, lying in the freezing water like it was a giant bath, hoping the waves, the eddies of the water would wash away some of my thoughts. I'm always drawn to water both as a child and even now, I will always go back to it somehow. If you want to give me a great gift and peace on earth for a while, show me to a bath full of hot water where I will bathe quite happily! Water carries sounds and I can feel and "hear" in a strangest of ways that I pretend I'm normal and like everyone else and that in some strange way, I'm getting a huge watery hug back from the universe! Water and I have a strange relationship and in the recent years I discovered I'm not the only one. Its one huge sensory experience I guess!

The experience on the beach was a weird one and though I enjoyed it, it had left me in a weird headspace since. Much like the film i mentioned at the beginning.

 I write this really as it feels like a personal exorcism, a little bit of that hard-to-remove grief goes somewhere else. I'm still notoriously private, something that drives my nearest friends batty but I'm happy to share a little bit of who I am if it helps someone else to know they aren't alone or helps them to understand me a little better then it isn't in vain. This is a weird part of me healing I guess. Don't worry, not all posts will be like this one or so heavy! But it's only fair that in doing a personal blog I guess to record the low times as well as the epic highs!

I wonder what I would say to the ghost child of me if I saw her today? Its strange how the older one gets, the more the child-likes hears come into play along with all that was never made peace with as well. I guess its part of life and one lesson I hope to learn well. What would you say to your younger self right now? "Word of advice kid? try not to knock over mum's favourite vase when you're 12? Because she will never let you live it down?" :P

Birdie love to you all!

XXX

Birdtopia

Last week via a stroke of luck and family connections, I am now a proud owner of a bit of land in central Plymouth! I have an allotment which I have lovingly named "Birdtopia" because for me, it's my bit of paradise on this earth. And land and allotment space is so scarce these days, this is a nice suprise for me.
But I was however warned..."It is a huge piece of land! Not your usual allotment size Hannah, it's going to be a lot of hard work..."
...hard work never scares me! I thrive off it, me and hard work are old friends and even older enemies!


I was shown around the huge area and finally shown plot 147 which was to be my plot...oh yeah!

And this was what greeted me....a jungle and groundsheet jungle...! I might have underestimated the amount of hard work involved a little....
...yeah...
But a nice suprise was discovering I already had a crop of rhubarb growing at the end of the field and between me and three other people, we all walked away with huge armfuls of massssshhoooooosive stalks of bright red rhubarb stalks...yummy!

I mean, look at my hands (and before anyone says it, I know I got tiny, midget hands...i'm forever teased about it by a certain dude...and I say it aint the size that counts, its what you do with them! :P) 
So a few days later, after being handed the key (and one I mustn't lose else its £50 to replace...£50?! I'm gunna be getting quite a few spares cut here...!) I headed down to the allotments with a bucket, a trowel, packed lunch and some baby cabbages to plant.
And it clicked....Birdie here, was being a little well...bird-brained wasnt she?
She didnt click that she was going to need a little more than a trowel to turn over all that earth did she?!
Not to worry! Help came and delievered some tools and a much needed strimmer and the jungle/groundsheet cemetry was blitzed to look like this...

You almost didnt recognise it did you? And under all that grass and ground sheeting, I discovered that the plot was indeed if not double, certainly tripled it sized than originally thought!...ever get that feeling you bitten off more than you thought you can chew?!
 This was the result of around 4 hours work and resulted in me painfully gaining two huuuge blisters, one on my thumb...as I was painfully reminded this evening as I wrote this blog (lemon juice + cuts....OUCH!) and one smack bang in the middle of the palm of my hand!

 Look at the variety of wildlife I discovered in the short time I was there! It took me right back to my childhood where I use to spend hours outside, roaming where ever I was to look for critters and animals (and pretending I was a hunter/warrior/explorer/David Attenborough...but you didnt need to know that...). Under all that tarp, I found two slow worms...TWO! I havent seen them for years! And before anyone yells "snake"...slow worms are not snakes, they are actually legless lizards, if you see the face of one close up, you can see this...not a single snake like feature on their pretty little heads...oh, and they aren't slow in the slightest!

And that robin!...I loved that robin to the point he was nick-named Boy Wonder by me (yeah, the geek in me was aggressively active that day...!) reason being that he came right up to you to the point he was taking food from your hand and flitting off before darting back and hopping behind after you as you tilled the soil, pecking at the earth for any worms. I suspect he's got a nest nearby...or Batman... :)

Plus I had to take a picture of that ladybird! Such an unusual colour co-ordination! she's rocking the polka dot look that day!

To end a busy allotment day, I planted my cabbages as you can see in the thick earth that was almost like peat due to it saturating under all that tarp and ground sheet. I'm looking forward to seeing how these little babies do and how big they will become in a few weeks time!

 Look at that view! Dont you love Plymouth?! Taken on top of the mound on Mount Batten spit on a break after a few hours around the watersports centre. And if you look closely...you can just spot a little pirate boat coming into harbour. I am sure it's a replica built of the Golden Hind as sailed in by Sir Francis Drake...I'm pretty sure....

Pirates!!!! In Plymouth!!! Hold on to yer hats matey!
But seriously, that aint something you see every day is it?!

And a little taste of the Olympics for you, the Olympic torch running past my road at 8.30am on a sunday...I was expecting no one to be out watching this but how wrong was I?! The street and Lara bridge was full of hundreds of people, half I swear were in their nightwear stilI...and what ws great was the celebratory atmosphere in the air so early on a bright, sunny morning. Flags were thrown out the windows, people clapping and cheering...I think we Brits could do with celebrating a little more. We dont make time or effort to appreciate the silly, fun things in our culture and lives and I think its these things that gives us a boost and a smile.

 Plymouth, even though it isn't my place of birth, is however a place where I spent many of my childhood years growing up and spending holidays with my grandparents here. Alot of my family have been born and raised here and I say this marvellous city is in my blood to some extent. Its a mash-up of so many things that I havent encountered before in other cities. It brings the old and new, vintage with modern all together in one huge cooking pot. Plymouth has so many varied landscapes. I grew up in Plymstock mostly, where farmlands, moorlands and coastlands collide with each other. My family background originated from the old harbour and working dockyards, some of them long gone today. There isn't truely a city like Plymouth, It's so unique in such a way that I find it hard to explain.

I'm looking forward to swimming this year in the Tinside Lido, an art deco outdoor swimming pool right by the sea. I might even go down to Devil's point, a place that is wildly occupied by rip-tides and whirl pools but to the knowledgeable swimmer, is a pretty damn great place for a swim. I played here as a girl, shoving my brother off the walk way into the sea and freaking people out by running from the giant man-built rock pool where infants could swim, screaming "shark!" (its amazing how many people believed us and we nearly always had the whole pool to ourselves every time we went, watched by a group of scowling parents and pale-faced, scared children...we were lovely children really...!)

I'm already trying to look ahead to the summer days, working with how I feel day to day. What are your plans this summer?


Hope it brings you good times!


Birdie love to you all. xxx

The way to one's heart is via crafts and food

Hello chickies!
If you'res till reading this then good for you and thank you for sticking with it! 
If you recall from the last update, I showed a small preview of a gift I was currently making fo a friend who's birthday it was. My dear friend A was one of the first few people I made friends with when I moved to Plymouth here in the UK. She like myself, is deaf except she underwent a different life journey and experiences than myself and for the ride she had and all the things she endured that life had thrown at her, I truely admire her strength. She's one of a small handful of people who are strong and possess such a character and personality that is well loved and recieved by all. Even though I'm a little older than her, she truly suppasses me in the knowledge and wisdom she processes that she herself gained from life. She truely been through so much and deserves every inch of happiness that comes her way. I thought she would appreciate the below handmade gift, a large mama owl made up of original 70's fabric holding her little baby.
The mama owl is about the size of a large cushion and is hand stuffed by myself as well as both machine and hand stitched. all the fabrics used to make her is all salvaged and second hand which demonstrates an excellent example of up-cycling. Mama owl's wings are made to be able to hold her baby tight to her and the fabrics was taken from an old sample book that use to come in to the scrap store where I did voluntary work teaching adults and children various crafts. I loved that job and how I was left to be in charge of teaching to others the skills I have gained in life. Many disabled adults and children passed through my lessons loving every minute of it and I'm glad I got to make them smile!

The Teenie baby owl is made up from a small part of a fat quater. I deliberately chosen more muted, "nursery" colours to reflect the delicate, cuteness of the baby. I even hand-stitched the baby's tummy on and then with a needle, frayed the edges of the material for a little "fluffiness". I love, love, love how the eyes turned out so well, made up of two buttons sitting inside of one another.

 My friend loved it. Her birthday meal was a real nice, imtimate affair and we all had a brilliant time. She recieved beautiful gifts and I was thrilled to watch her open mine! It took her some attempts to believe I made her gift but she finally believed me! I recieve the above picture from her showing Mama and Baby at home on her sofa with another new family friend. What is so brilliant is the owl cushion on the right was the inspiration I've seen out and about in shops, going at prices around £25 which I love but wanted to make my own and a little better. The end result? Mama and Baby on the left, a hand made gift for a precious friend. 

I'm liking this end result and the great thing is I've now got a pattern on hand used for this project. I think I might vary the wings a bit for next time for an easier sewing result. I'm also thinking of making Mama's eyes different with a large fabric circle for the eye and then having the button for the pupil. Baby is pretty much bang on and wouldnt change a lot apart from adding a little applique heart on his chest in future for added love!


For those who know me and know me well, would know I'm a massive food lover. I love food...something my body and weight can attest for but in my opinion, a true food lover is one who not only eats good food out and about but also strives to take elements of dishes and produce and recreates it at home. You need to cook food as well as to eat it to understand how a dish works and why it works on each and every level it is created. I love complex dishes and often I will try to order things of this nature when I'm out, but it's the simplier element that is the hardest to achieve. 
Food with many ingredients can hide many sins and errors and sometimes you're not sure if you're actually tasting the dish you're suppose to be tasting. Strip a dish back to its basics, you have nowhere to hide and you have a smaller margin for error. I think this is why many chefs shudder at simple dishes....any mistakes will be spotted!

There has always been one produce I've always wanted to get my hands on to try.
Samphire.
Samphire is a coastal plant with a long history. Samphire is also known as sea asparagus or sea pickle and has been used in history as part of making soap and even glass hence its olde name of glasswort. 
It is also long been eaten in England and research shows there's even reference to it been mentioned in King Lear.

 Half-way down Hangs one that gathers samphire; dreadful trade! (Act IV, Scene VI)

Samphire is found on cliffs and coastal regions near seas, esturies and rivers and is often eaten in salads or pickled. But where the magic happens is when it is simply sauteed or steamed and paired with fish. 

Samphire and I have a long history. As a child I dreamt of being cast away on distant islands and living off the land, foraging for food with a knowledge gained from books and national geographic magazines given to me from mainly my grandad. 

We humans have lost the skills and knowledge to live off the land and remain in time with the seasons. Should we even need to live hand to mouth like our forfathers had done in the past, I dont think we would fare well. Samphire was something chefs on television would talk with great enthusiasm, both they and survival experts would trek to world's end where cliffs met the white, wild foamy seas and glorify the plant that gave a unique taste of the sea to any dish.

I even had a fail quest in search for Samphire myself. One training exercise with the army in Cornwall, we were being taught basic survival skills by a harden bunch of royal marines on the cornish coast. We spent hours searching through all the plants growing around us, pulling them up and cooking them in various means and we thought we had Samphire until the Marines admitted they pulled up the wrong plant and they havent themselves come across Samphire in a long time!
...and we were about to consume a weed....yeah...some survival experts they were...!
 So Samphire remained ever elsuive until this week. My local Morrisons underwent a new facelift and I'm loving the new store layout and the fresh produce counter is out of this world! Fresh fruits and veg from the world over is laid out on ice beds, labelled with their names and how to cook them. You can see all these people picking up all these beauties, no longer scared now that they know what the produce is called and how it is eaten and I am now getting my hands on some great things I've always wanted to cook. I got an artichoke in the fridge I'm going to cook up soon with fresh hollandaise sauce which i dreamt of one day trying.

And i finally got my hand on Samphire! There it was, siting in its own little tray on an ice bed in the fresh herb section!

I simply sauteed it in butter and a little lemon juice and poured it over a freshly cooked piece of salmon. The end result?

Samphire tasted beautiful with the clean taste of salmon. It popped in your mouth with every bite, unleashing a deep tang of the sea, a saltiness that is intense yet developed with a nutty musky tang and had an almost roast chicken aftertaste. It really does lift the taste of the fish to another level and I recommend you give it a try!

Don't be scared of trying something that looks strange and wonderful on shop counters, buy something that scares you, take it home and experiment. Keep the flavours simple and see how you can adapt it to suit your tastes.  I'm finally glad I tracked down and tasted Samphire, the long fabled and elusive plant is now something I've ticked off my list and is something I would put onto my table and share with friends the next time they come over.

Its these small challenges and goals one needs in life that makes living with depression that much easier. Its that small sense of accomplishment that keeps me going to the next one and it's something I hope to share on this blog so I can see my progress.

One must try to live through life with their eyes open, taking in each moment and recognising a moment for what it is. I went for a walk one evening this weel, so angry and upset after a session at Karate. Although the session was a great one, I laughed and got a good lesson from it, I was so upset and so distraught for personal reasons that I just walked blindly until I stopped at a near-by spot and stared out across the water.  I had a long weekend go by, where I truely felt my world was ending. My parents looked after me, trying to make sure I ate and slept and watched their daughter shuffle around the house in a zombiefied state. My dad said I looked like how a war driven soldier would look after many nights on sentry watch like when he was a young marine, deep bruised, raw circles under my eyes from nights of no sleep and the eternal rollings of my mind. I explained to him how I hated sleeping and eventually it developed into a phobia, where I absolutely freak out at the idea of going to bed, striving to stay awake until my body just shut itself down out of complete exhaustion. This happened night after night for months until it was too much. The weekend was a dark one, really dark. I wont go into it too much, it's too personal and raw to share here. 

But here i was, standing at the water edge, mind and soul screaming internally in pain, I felt like my heart was ripped out for a long time and lost, emotions doing their own thing with no control and I just looked at the view for what it was. 

Sunset. The ending of one day and the begining of another. There is always another day to come, another day where things might just get better and damn, wasnt the view just beautiful?

 

Birdie love to you. xxx

A few bad days...and why it aint so bad...

Its been a weird week or so of late, one of the problems at the moment is dealing with insomnia to the point I'm now actually having to admit there is a problem. Whether coming close to ironing at 3am to relieve myself of the boredom of trying to get some zzz's or actually starting to hallucinate at work through the exhaustion of it all...I'm not too sure! Also having to deal with the sudden onset of panic attacks hasnt helped either, where several times I was due to attend other meetings in several cities across Devon but upon getting to the train station, just freaking out and I don't remember much after each attack. To me, this is a weakness and an annoyance, something I hate and I know its part of the whole head injury/depression thing and I've been told so many times to stop fighting against myself, I still end up giving myself a hard time.  One thing I do to "fight " against all this in a more productive manner than a self destructive one is simply turning my energy now to something else.

Sunday saw me baking bread. Red Onion and balsamic Vinegar bread made into rolls...it tasted nice fresh out the oven with melted butter...Nom! I was feeling bit low at the time and haven't baked in ages. Plus I like taking the goodies into work the next day and feeding my poor lunch companion who dutifully nods and says "yum"...  :P

A friend pointed out she thought this t-shirt design had me down to a tee! Very kind of her to say! ...Wonder if its my glasses I was wearing at the time that inspired her comment or the rare moments of intellect and wisdom that occassionally makes me look like Stephen Fry?!...Doubt it, I'm more Alan Davies....!

Tuesday was...an interesting day. A deadly combination of two panic attacks, a hard hitting moment of realisation and depression and a few teary texts to the mother made it a long day. I was suppose to be in Torquay but I just simply couldnt make it there that day for reasons I wont go into but I simply say I felt I wasnt ready for it, it was a step too far. Plus having a moment at work just made me click and feel such a fool for even thinking the thoughts and hopes I had. 
The outcome? I went home and had so little to say to anyone, the Pope could have walked into my house, threatening me with an exorcism and I would have just responded with a withering glare that would have made him think twice and slowly edge back out of the house! I was fustrated at how all the emotions and everything that day gave me energy and so I decided to get two of my craft projects under way.

Here is a taster of one of the projects...I can't reveal too much at the moment as it is a birthday gift for someone. But you can see the ecclectric mixs of fabrics used so far! That brown and mustard yellow 70's fabrics? I bought a huge bulk of this lovely stuff for £2! I just love the strong, geometric prints and designs that are making a come back and there is something slightly scandenavian about it too with its design work. The wonderful thing is? People who know me well often knows I love these types of fabrics in its bright hues of eye-popping colours and often either buys me some or put it to one side for me...isn't that lovely!  :) I might not be the girl with the dragon tattoo but I'm certainly the girl with the colourful fabric stash!

 I will post a few piccys later when this secret birthday project is finished hopefully this weekend to be gifted to the unaware person!

 Excuse my tiny leopard feet! you can see a work in progress shot of a little quilt i'm making for my godson Henry. I'm working with a panel in the middle full of dinosaurs andon either side is going to be two blue panels that going to have either hand sewn or hand painted images of dinosaurs...not too sure which, what you think?

And the cutest thing?i managed to source the softest baby blue fleece with tiny cute dinos all over the fabric....awwww! I'm quite pleased at how the project is coming together so far. Its all pinned and basted, ready for me to hand sew the outlines of the dinosaurs in the panel...the fun never stops!

Excuse the slightly blurry picture...

So the whole evening was spent alone in silence, pulling fabrics out, ironing them, cutting them and altering the patterns...the whole process was in a way my exorcism to deal with all that pain, rejection, hurt, anger I experienced that day. My negative energy channelled into making something positive I think is a good thing considering a year or two ago, I would have just raged at everyone! I think that gotta count for something thses days where I can't be on medication and still waiting for help from the NHS and dealing with the head trauma. I'm not normally negative and self obsessed but I pleased in a way I managed to deal with a few hards days in the way I have so hopefully you can get to read something more positive next time! 

Birdie love to you all! X

Resurrection

I named this post Resurrection as not only is it the first post in a long while but also to symbolise what it means for me. Its my way of saying I guess I’m fighting to get back onto my feet after all that has happened.
Back in 2009 when I made my last post, I was keeping a journal. I knew I wasn’t quite right and I was suffering in a way I couldn’t describe or figure out. I recently this year found the same journal and continued it but read the last entries... a lot has changed from 2009 to the present day. A lot.
Being disabled is a weird thing to try and encapsulate in order to explain. It affects all traits a human has in the deepest, unconscious of ways. I have always fought against my disability, fought to prove myself more than being a disabled girl who was at odds with the world. I had a point to prove with anyone and everyone and I wasn’t going to back down and I was going to fight the fight...whatever it was. I never accepted I was deaf on some ways. I rarely told people I’m deaf unless I have too and worked hard to be as “normal” as I can be.  Now...there is no such thing as “normal” that I can say I’ve learnt. Plus having an accident which resulted in a serious head injury that impaired my disability further and I’m having to relearn how to cope and live every day kinda throws you out into a tail spin and gives you a few new perspectives to look at whether I wanted to or not. Things in my life, things I do and value and things about me are thrown into an ugly light and I’m learning that I accept these ugly things and that I’m kinda ok with it actually. I’m making my peace and things will either change or quieten down since peace is made.
But I look back at my post in 2009 and the one I make now and I see the same girl but is also so very different as well. Things have happened in between time that I never thought I would do, things happened I never would have predicted and I’ve grown in ways I never envisioned. I’ve walked away from everything so far to date with a new founded appreciated, respect or a lesson gained. I’ve learnt what is means to truly have friends and that I actually have friends that care in the deepest of ways and would put themselves in the line of fire to protect me without being asked. I’ve learnt that you only have one family and I made peace with that and the bonds that are there. I’ve learnt that life waits for no one and to sit on the fence watching life go by is to watch your own life roll on without you in control or enjoying it. And I’ve learn the many lessons of love. Love is a many varied thing yet has only one word for it. Why? A love for a parent is different to the love a parent has for their child. That unrequainted love is more painful in deeper ways than mutual love. Love for a friend is varied in itself too. All friends are friends to you for various reasons and you love them all for these reasons alone. You have a friend that you know will pick you up when you’re down. You have a friend who is always willing to be the fool to put a smile on your face and you have a friend you can tell secrets to that are kept and never judged. The values you grew up with are forever tested and revalued and you evolve in the deepest of ways, often without knowing.

I may not know where I am heading in life but I think I got a clearer frame of mind as to how to handle things life throws at me, judging the cross-roads with fairness and weathering the path itself well. Life is a journey and no map, bearings or compass is given to anyone. But are we truly lost? I’m still finding out the answer to that but I feel more positive already and whatever the answer is, I’ve already seen beyond this.

I just hope and owe it to myself to journey well and take everything in. To life this life as a gift that is denied to the many that never got to share it with us. 

My rambling point? 
Don’t give up on me yet! Don't give up on life and don't give up on yourself. X