The reason nostalgia is a liar and a thief.


The reason nostalgia is a liar and a thief.

Nostalgia is a fucking liar and a fucking thief. As of late, I've been reminiscing on my younger years; romanticising their glory and skipping over the painful parts that I've spent years trying to forget (or, more unhealthily, trying to ignore.) The thing about nostalgia is that it robs us of the present moment and makes us look at our past with rose-tinted glasses. It skips out all of the messy parts which separate the different versions of ourselves. When we look through our facebook albums or even if we scroll far enough through our Instagram grids we are reminded of every version of ourselves all at once: heartbroken you meets empowered you who meets drunk-crying-on-the-floor-cause-my-life's-a-mess-you who in turn meets this-is-the-best-day-of-my-life you then suddenly your entire being is overflowing with all of these contradicting emotions which then settle into longing for those 'better days' - the days where your friends were your family, when things were easy and you were ~happy~ (whatever the fuck that means).

I've decided to boycott looking at old photos for a while after publishing this post because I'm going to debunk my photographic memories and reveal the ~harsh truths~ if you will:

The reason nostalgia is a liar and a thief.

Perception: Oh wow I look so happy, this was when I went to Wales for Christmas/ New years and saw all of my old pals! Jeeeeze we look so young and carefree, I miss these guys I loved hanging out with them!
Reality: This was a taken just after I met my up with my first love and got officially dumped by him. He was the coldest I'd ever seen him and the smile in the photo disappeared into an ugly cry face as walked away and broke my knuckles straight after this photo

The reason nostalgia is a liar and a thief.

Perception: hahaha this was a fun day, me and her were best friends back in the day, we had such a good friendship look how close we were back then! Also lol I'm blonde, I haven't been blonde since I was 12.. fuck me that was a decade ago!
Reality: This was the last photo I took with my best friend when I lived in Wales. This day was the day I got kicked out and moved to Bournemouth. Our friendship was never the same again - none of my friendships was the same the moment I moved to Bournemouth.

The reason nostalgia is a liar and a thief.

Perception: oh wow I'm laughing, what was I laughing at? that must have been a really good day ha ha ha look how happy I look!!
Reality: This was the day my best friend and I fell out massively. I went and met her at the church in the photo and thankfully we sorted it out but moments before this we were both in tears.

The reason nostalgia is a liar and a thief.

Perception: Ahh this was a good day, we built a raft and won the challenge.
Reality: We were on a 'confidence course' with the school - I was there because I was self-harming every day and was severely depressed.

The reason nostalgia is a liar and a thief.

Perception: Wow this was my friends birthday, this was a great night hahah I used to get into the club underage, I was so wasted! I love my hair!!
Reality: This was my friends birthday, I had been out the past two nights and from this night on I drank pretty much every day for 2/3 months because my friend and I were severely depressed. I stayed at a friends flat on the floor and ate dry pasta at 3am whilst crying into the bowl.

The reason nostalgia is a liar and a thief.

Perception: Wow I look really nice! Edited a bit too much but I really like this photo, I remember I got that hat at a party I went to!
Reality: I'd just got out of a very controlling, mentally abusive relationship and so I went to a party and this was taken just after I'd got home from the party (where yes, I did get that hat - I still have it too!) I also kicked a bloke in the face and made his nose bleed because he tried grabbing and touching up my feet. I fell off a longboard, split my knee open and got stranded in a flat with my friend and a load of weirdos (one of which was the foot guy) - I hadn't slept in 2/3 days.

So all in all, looking at old Facebook photos is a laugh and reminiscing about old times can be nice and fun but you shouldn't wish away your days thinking it was better back then. Nostalgia is a fucking liar and you shouldn't entertain it for too long. Keep being in the present and keep moving forward.

What are you happy with in life right now?

My mental health story - Depression & Anxiety


My mental heath story - Depression & Anxiety

Apparently its world mental health day today or something? In light of that I think I'll just go on a tangent about my mental health story and see where it takes us. T/W: Self harm, anxiety & depression

This year was the year I finally got diagnosed with Anxiety and Depression, I say finally because I've been living with the ~disorders~  since I was around 13 when I got kicked out and moved to England.

My depression probably came about when I moved up to Bournemouth. I had to leave all my friends and family and I felt alone. I was scared about making new friends and old ones forgetting me and moving on with their lives. I had just started to feel a part of a proper friendship group back in Wales and I was going out with a boy who I really liked and then it was all ripped from me.

I was the typical emo kid; fringe over one eye, bracelets galore, the tightest skinnies known to man, the thickest eyeliner and loud angry music blasting in my ears all day and night. I had ~dabbled~ with self harming before I moved to Bournemouth but nothing too serious, just a couple of scratches here and there when I was feeling particularly down but when I moved it got prominently worse. I started cutting every day and it eventually turned into an addiction - I couldn't imagine my life with a different coping mechanism yanno?

I used to hide my cuts under my sweat bands and bracelets and hope no one would notice in P.E when I had to take them off but one day in school someone noticed which then resulted in my family getting notified and being sent to the school counsellor. I loved my counsellor, she was lovely but she didn't help in the slightest. She was trying to talk about my past which at the time wasn't the issue. The issues were in the present day but she ignored them and so, I kept self harming as a coping mechanism and still wasn't diagnosed. I suppose because I looked like the typical emo kid they just thought I was going through a 'phase' and would stop once I 'grew up' a little bit but unfortunately, that wasn't the case.

Fast forward a couple of years I stopped self harming because I didn't want to hide my body anymore, I didn't want to lie to my grandparents and I just wanted to be okay. I'm quite good at breaking habits so I stopped almost instantly. The thoughts were still there but I instead of cutting, I smoked instead (I know, a much better substitute lol) But even though the physicality's of my depression had stopped, the thoughts of worthlessness were still there, the snowballing of mood when one thing goes wrong was still there, the lack of enjoyment in everything was still there, the numbness was still there. But I ignored it all.

My mental heath story - Depression & Anxiety

I felt I was overreacting, being dramatic and maybe even attention seeking so I didn't get help.
My depression was very touch and go back then. I could have days on top of the world and days where if one little thing happened I would break down and not get out of bed for 3 days.
We're told depression is a constant - you can't possibly have happy days if you're depressed -  but that's not the case. You can still laugh and smile and feel some sort of happiness whilst depressed. You can even have a string of happy days whilst depressed, but it soon fades. The littlest thing can happen and you're back to square one after a week of feeling as though you're finally getting better.

February 2016 was the time my anxiety came into play. I wrote about it more in depth in this post but basically I had a panic attack out of nowhere and suddenly I was constantly anxious about my health. I had panic attacks every day for about a year. Thankfully it's a lot better now but it seems to have swapped places with my depression. To this day I can't eat with my hands, I don't try anything that I've not eaten/used before in case I'm allergic and I think I'm going to have a heart attack or stroke if I consume too much junk food.

My depression got pretty bad a couple of months ago, not for any particular reason, it just does that sometimes and so I was signed off work. I can hear my Nan ringing me now going "you never told us that!" but it's embarrassing. Everyone places such a high value on work - if you don't work you're a bum and ~worthless~ so I didn't want to tell anyone that I wasn't working due to being depressed. as there's still such a stigma around depression. People throw the word around when they're feeling a little sad, but it goes way past feeling a little sad. It's a bottomless pit of darkness where you can't see (and sometimes don't want to see ) a way out.

Thankfully my workplace are extremely supportive and have finally got me the diagnosis and the therapy that I need. I'm currently on session 4 and so far it seems to be going okay but we're upping the sessions to an hour rather than half an hour soon to see if that helps me any more.

This is a long ass post and thank you if you've read it all. It's not exactly an 'awareness' post but it's just a brief timeline of my depression. Maybe it'll help identify yours, maybe it'll help you recognise one of your loved ones are depressed. I don't know.

Here are some helpful websites if you or someone you know needs them:


What do you need to ask for help with today?

He set his room on fire with me in it


He set his room on fire with me in it

"I don't love you anymore" he snarled whilst admiring himself in the mirror. I was sat on his bed waiting for him to get ready. The words struck me like a bolt of lightning and I had to fight back the tears that threatened to erupt from my eyes.

"Good, that makes the two of us then." I smiled and forced the lump in my throat back down to where it came from. I wasn't going to let him get the reaction he wanted from me. Not this time. He turned to face me, his dark hazel eyes stared into mine and thick deep lines appeared upon his forehead. I continued to smile, locking my eyes deeper, refusing to give in.

A soft, nervous giggle left my lips.

"You think it's funny, do you?!" he lunged towards me "I'll show you fucking funny!" he shouted as he reached for the baseball bat which was sat beside the T.V stand. I clutched at the end of my sleeves and lowered my eyes. All I could see was the faded denim jeans I had decided to wear that day.

"Look at me then!" he bellowed. I hesitated before lifting my head up to meet his gaze. My eyes widened and my palms started to sweat. He was still holding the baseball bat. I saw veins throbbing beneath his skin as he walked over to his large oak table in the corner of his hostel room. My eyes followed him in anticipation as he grabbed the lighter fluid from the windowsill. Not knowing what he was going to do I held my breath. 

He slowly twisted off the lid whilst staring at me. My eyes shifted around the room until I heard a splash upon the table top. My eyes darted back to him as he started to pour lighter fluid all over the table. A piercing laugh left his lips followed by mutters of "I'll show you fucking funny."

The night I wish I could forget: SRSummerSchool


The night I wish I could forget SRSummerSchool

I've uhmmed and ahhed over posting this as I've never been that good at writing fiction but seeing as it was my final piece for Laura's SRSummerSchool (aka the best writing course ever.) I thought I'd suck it up and share it with y'all..

     I have no choice but to ring an ambulance, a pool of blood is forming on the gravel as I try to put pressure on the wound. She pushes me away crying,
“He wouldn’t do this - he didn’t!....Did he?” She tries to stand but falls to her knees. Her cries become wails and I don’t have to say a word because she looks deep into my soul and finds the answer she’s trying so desperately to deny.
     As soon as we walked through those large oak doors, we were greeted with wide eyes, gurning gums, and glasses full to the brim of vodka to which we each eagerly accepted and finished before we had even sat down. I thought to myself, “Trust me to walk into a flat full of Welsh people,” as everyone introduced themselves in their thick accents. I didn’t feel comfortable there, but something told me to stay, so I did.
The music was so loud it pulsed through my veins and the laughter so pure you’d never have guessed every single person in that flat was broken in one way or another. We danced to the house music that was pumping, I could see the pixels in the air which turned into little twinkling stars. As I twirled, dipped and jived, I saw rainbow blurs and fell on to the laminate floor in laughter with my friend Delilah. 
“This is the most fun I’ve had in a long time!” I thought as I watched the transparent poison pour into my overused glass, the phrase ‘the glass is always half full’ took on a whole new meaning that night.

     “Let’s play dares!” a nameless face suggested. I was sat on a large floral arm chair with Delilah, who was a lot larger than myself, perched on my lap, my head rested against her back as I shovelled salt ‘n’ vinegar sticks into my dehydrated mouth.
“I dare you..” my face vibrated off her back as she spoke, her eyes shifted towards the tall, blonde muscle man named Dom “ run down the street naked.” She finished, a soft giggle left her lips but was stopped abruptly as Dom replied with a stern “No.” His eyes looked dark despite being a piercing blue.
“Give me something hard,” he barked.
Delilah’s eyes shifted left to right scanning his face “Fine,” her lips curled into a smug smile. 
“I dare you to HURT me,” her smile grew bigger because she knew he would never do such a thing, after all, he loved her.
     His eyes widened and within a second he was stood in front of her - us - and without hesitation, he wrapped his large tanned hands around her unknowing neck and squeezed hard.
It took me a minute to realise what was happening and I was stuck under her weight, unable to do anything. I looked into his eyes and saw undeniable enjoyment. I guess that’s what happens when a paranoid schizophrenic is dared to "hurt" you. 
     He squeezed until her body became limp and lifeless. She fell off of my lap and he stood there looking completely satisfied with what he had just done as I tried to stop her from falling. I couldn’t hold her weight. 
     She fell and smacked her head on the kitchen worktop at first, then the drawer handle until finally, she met the cold, hard, marble tiles with a thunderous crack. I sat, unable to breathe, trying to make sense of what I had just witnessed but I couldn’t..I still can’t.
I glanced at Dom who was now stood by the large bay window, sun rays illuminated his skin giving him a soft glow which made my sensitive eyes squint.
“What the fuck have you done?!” I snarled, and darted my eyes around the room at all of the other blank faces. I looked into each of their eyes and saw terror consuming their souls.


     DRIP. DRIP. D R I P. I watched Delilahs’s blood splash on the tiles in slow motion as though it was a scene from a well-produced horror movie. I lifted her limp arm and checked for her pulse.
“She’s not breathing! Dom?! Do something!” I pleaded with silent faces, still holding Delilah's arm. 
“Stop getting blood on my kitchen!” Dom bellowed as he paced back and forth glaring at me but he stopped as Delilah rolled slowly onto her back. Her body started violently shaking, and foam slightly escaped her dry, cracked lips. I quickly moved away to give her some space and we all inhaled, not knowing what was happening or what would happen next.

     Finally, after what felt like forever, she stoped, still. We all watched in anticipation, until she sat up and took a large gasp of air, her eyes were still rolling back into her head which was absolutely harrowing. She comes to and we all released an echoing sigh of relief. Lifting her right hand up to her blood stained face she turned to meet my uneasy gaze.
“Laur? Why’s my face wet?” She tried to stand, her hand still clutched the gaping wound which was carved into her head.
“He hurt you,” I blurted “We need to go now.” I tried to usher her out of the room but she stopped and looked around, trying to find Dom with her eyes. I pulled her towards the bathroom. 
“He’s got a knife! You need to leave NOW!” someone screamed at us as they pushed past to get out. I leant her against the off-white wall as I tried to grab anything I could from the bathroom: wet wipes, tissue, and water. 
“We have to go now, Dee.” I told her, my voice cracked as I tried to pull her through the door into the car park.

I really hope you enjoyed reading, any feedback would be more than welcome!

What do you prefer writing?

'Her' - an excerpt from my poetry book


'Her' - an excerpt from my poetry book

If you don't already know, I'm going to be publishing a poetry zine made up of 20 poems. It tells the story of love and heartbreak like any cliché poetry book but these poems are unedited from when I wrote them, many of which were wrote whilst sat by the sea crying - but they're not all sad, I promise! Some are from 2012 and some are newer - the zine will only cost £5.00 including postage but I've not set any of that up yet so I hope you'll want to have a read! To give y'all a little taster, here's a poem called 'Her'

Twisted bodies
in a sea of lies.
Back and forth
the sea kisses the shore
and you're kissing the spaces
between her milky collarbones
pouring your love
(that you promised would be forever mine) 
into her 
as she wraps her ivory legs 
around your waist
holding you closer than
I will ever be
to you
- Her. Arora Appleby

Any feedback would be much appreciated! 

August reflections & September goals


August reflections & September goals

This is totally stolen from the glorious Laura. Each month she does her monthly reflections and the way she does it has me all heart-eyes-emoji so I'm not only going to do it as my first page in my brand spankin' new diary, but share it on here with you guys as well. Check Lauras instagram for a photo of how she presents it in her own diary.

Monthly reflections: August 2017.

Looking back over August I am:


♡ Finally getting help with my Mental Health and starting therapy
♡ Finishing 3 books (the only books I've read this year, whoops!)
♡ Not spending all my money before the end of the month

♡ A supportive family and supportive work place
♡ Being asked to be bridesmaid at my cousins wedding & being apart of her wonderful day
♡ The Dumbo teddy, Poison Apple Mug & Mustard Coat Shane bought as a present for me

♡ Old friends that no longer serve me in my present or future life
♡ All ill feeling towards people who have wronged me
♡ My consumer mindset.

August reflections & September goals

Looking forward: September 2017.

Looking forward towards September I am looking after my:

♡ Declutter my room & only keep things that ~bring me joy~
♡ Continue with therapy and put my all into the exercises
♡ Start meditating daily (even if it's for only 5 minutes!)

♡ Write in my diary each night so I don't forget even the most mundane of memories
♡ Write a gratitude list each morning
♡ Make a conscious effort to speak to friends and family at least once a week

♡ Start my 30 day self-care/self-love challenge
♡ Start my 30 day writing challenge
♡ Define what I actually enjoy doing & make sure I do at least one thing each day

♡ Do 5 minutes of yoga each morning and night
♡ Go for at least a 5 minute walk each day
♡ Drink more water and eat more good stuff (not biscuits, unfortunately)


☽ Clear out wardrobe & put together outfits for A/W. Put away what I don't need.
☽ Create (& stick!) to a budget for the month
☽ Write one gratitude letter/email & send it
☽ Review 2017's goals, are they still a good fit? 

What are your goals for September?


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