Journey Back to My First Love : Writing

I’ve always loved writing. Ever since I could really. It was my salvation from a world that didn’t understand me. I used to write stories about the life I wanted. It felt like something Enid Blyton would’ve written. Except I wasn’t an English writer who made children’s imaginations run wild. I was a 6 year old who lived in Nigeria, with a very confusing relationship with her distant dad. I still wanted to live in Honeysuckle Cottage down a country lane somewhere.

I kept writing to process the perils of growing up in a popularity contest also known as Boarding School. I gave my characters slightly disguised pseudonyms to the peers I struggled to connect with (& those I did connect with - no one was spared!)

I always kept a journal. I remember my mum saying to me at age 11, that I shouldn’t as people always end up reading it. It was irony indeed at 14 when she was the one who invaded my privacy.
After that, I was cautious but I couldn’t stay away so I started another at 15, in a different county with bigger secrets.

I wrote my first blog at 17, and my now husband would read it. Through that blog I’d pour out my heart about unrequited love (which turned out to be requited) & other kinds or articles.

I then went to university to study English and Creative Writing, it felt quite indulgent at times. I never had big dreams of Authorship. I didn’t really know what I wanted to do with my body of work. I still don’t.

I started my 2nd blog after honeymoon when my husband returned to work on the Isle of Man. That blog, chronicled early marriage, pregnancy, motherhood, depression & lots of reviews. This felt like a full time job & although I enjoyed it, after 6 years I needed to stop.

After a 2 year hiatus, I started this blog. I am not as regimented about posting, I don’t do blog linkys as often nor do I participate in the blogging community as much as I did previously. I just write when I can/want to.

This brings us full circle!

I joined a writing group which would hopefully keep me accountable so I keep writing. I read through my journals & writing notebooks from years past and there are things that make me cringe but there are also things that remind me of how into writing I was. It was a way of life for me.

Join me as I rediscover my love, creativity & talent .

Comments

What to put in your Hospital Bag for a Mastectomy

I have scrawled across the internet , read lots of blogs and watched lots of videos. Most of which were of an American slant. I have come to the conclusion that the American hospital system is very different to our good old NHS. I asked lots of people who have been through this too. I also used information from the booklet entitled "Planned Admissions" which I was given when I went in for my Wide Excision back in March. Putting all the above to use, here is what I have packed in my hospital bag . Most British hospitals do not have vast amount of space so you are advised to bring a soft bag not a suitcase. I chose my favourite Cath Kidston X Disney Peter Pan Tote. It's not a big bag either. George Post Surgery PJs (with internal drain management pockets. George Post Surgery Dressing Gown (also with Drain Management) My trusty bedroom boots Fleece Blanket Spare underwear Toiletry bag containing Toothbrush, Toothpaste, Deodorant, Face cream Naty Baby Eco Wipes...

Living with Invisible Disabilities

It’s been a year since my hysterectomy. I had wanted to share how much my life has improved since which in some respects it has. But unfortunately for me, I still have other lifelong conditions that disable me daily. So although, it’s a relief not to have to deal with the debilitating gynaecological pain that I suffered with for over 20 years, Life continues to be a struggle. I was trying to create a TikTok video and was looking for pictures to help illustrate how hard things were but there was no evidence of my struggle. The trauma, the pain, the scarring. The panic, the anxiety & loss are all invisible. I have nothing tangible to show the hell that I’ve lived through. In the words of my heroes, Maya Angelou, “Just like moons and like suns, With the certainty of tides, Just like hopes springing high, Still I'll rise. Up from a past that’s rooted in pain I rise” I will keep rising for as long as I can. I owe it to myself....

Why Don’t Healthcare Providers understand Medical Trauma?

Our surgery has recently gotten 2 new partners which saved it from closing. I’ve ALWAYS been anaemic since I started periods or even before because 1) I’ve got weird shaped red blood cells & 2) I’ve basically been haemorrhaging every month until my op earlier this year. 3) my DMARDs (drugs that prevent damage in my joints) have an impact. Since my op, and the absence of periods, my iron levels have been slowly climbing and my Rheumatologist told me the last time I had a new PB 😅 I’m doing all the things to encourage it. Just before Christmas, I had my HBA1C done (basically my diabetes report card) which includes a full blood count. The results came in today (I’m basically walking around with a normal HBA1C 🙌🏿🙌🏿) but I just got a phone call from the surgery saying the dr would like to test me for anaemia . At this point I’m so bored & fed up with unnecessary prods. Like you’ve got data in front of you. Make of it what you will. ...

Oreos & Gin

Search This Blog