Mental Health, Why I Blog and John Cena.

Thanks to everyone who got in touch on last weeks post.  I expected to get more than three questions, but I guess I was being pretty big headed thinking more people would be interested in my life.  Awh well. There you are confidence – take another punch in the gut.

 If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

If you asked me this when I was aged anywhere between 15 and 20, I would have had a never ending list of physical things I wanted to change.  I wouldn’t be as tall, I’d be thinner, my hair would be longer, my boobs would be bigger, I would have a six pack.  And why?  I wanted to make girls jealous and boys horny.  Although I’m not yet completely at one with accepting my appearance, I realise, it doesn’t matter.  There will always be someone on this earth who finds you ugly.  But also someone who finds you beautiful.

What I would change is my mind.  I’d get rid of the crushing anxiety.  I wish I could be more positive and outgoing.  I wish I didn’t have an eating disorder and body dysmorphia.  I wish my mental health was better, I know then that without trying my physical health would improve too. I wish I was 100% happy and confident all the time – That way, I wouldn’t make bad choices or have this often overwhelming negative image of myself.

What led you to start a blog?

I thought this question would be the easiest to answer, but I’ve been sitting here staring at it for the past 15 minutes wondering where to start.  I began writing a year ago because I wanted to be a vlogger.  If you’re unfamiliar with this term, it’s basically filming your life and sharing it online.  However, I wasn’t ready to face the impending criticism that comes along with vlogging, so I started writing instead.

I wanted to write to vent, to share my story, to appeal to others, to inspire and to entertain.  I wanted people to tell me that everything was going to be OK, because sometimes, I am really not OK.  In turn, I wanted people to feel that their struggle is not their own.  No one’s life is perfect – Sometimes it’s not even good – But fuck it, we can float on together.

I have always adored writing, and honestly – It’s the one thing I think I’m good at.

If you could have a billboard anywhere, what would it say and where would it be?

Thanks to John Cena for sending in this question last week.  I guess the only thing I have to promote is this blog, so it’d probably be a pretty simplistic design advertising MollysBook.  And it would be in an episode of Family Guy or The Simpsons, because that’s the only place where I ever read billboards.

I Need You!

Well butter me up and call me a biscuit, it’s been a whole freaking year since I started old bloggy here.

Seeing as I’ve been providing you all with such hilarious and thought provoking content once a week(ish) for a full 12 months, I wanted to know – Is there anything you’d like to ask me?

So the comment section on this post (and all other posts) is anonymous. You don’t have to be a member of WordPress to comment, so please feel free to ask whatever your heart desires.  If you don’t mind letting me know your name, you can also get in touch via various social media platforms (Facebook, Instagram, Twitter).

This could be a complete flop and/or total nightmare, but I mean it when I say; Ask me anything.  Dirty, clean, embarrassing, controversial, political, ethical, stupid, intellectual… Other various adjectives – I will answer them.

Next week’s blog is up to you.

How to Win at Scrabble.

This is kind of a step away from my most recent posts.  It’s not actually a tutorial on how to win at Scrabble (sorry), however, it is something that is of great interest to me. Put simply; words.  Words that you didn’t know existed.

I’ve always loved reading.  One thing that I was always good at.  I remember the smug pride when I moved onto Key Stage 5 books in primary school (shout out to Biff, Chip, Floppy, Kipper, Wilf, Wilma, Mum and Dad).  My Mum has always read, and my Dad has always encouraged it, so I grew up with Rohal Dhal, Dick King Smith, R.L Stein, C.S Lewis, Tolkin, Peter V Brett, Patrick Rothfuss and my absolute hero JK Rowling.

Despite in the past having read up to 6 or 7 books per annum, within the last few years my reading pattern has dwindled.  This is partly down to not having too much on my mind and/or lack of concentration.  Mostly I blame technology *shakes fist*.  Sometimes I could spend an hour on Pinterest or YouTube rather than reading, but once I start a book, I’m always reminded how (for me) it is the ultimate escape.

Reading is the only time I’ll ever look up the meaning of a word.  If I see something in a book that I don’t know the definition of, I’ll look it up.  I really enjoy the feeling of knowing stuff, so in this blog, I’ve found some cool words that you might like to whip out in conversation in order to confuse everyone around you.

Philtrum – This is the little groove below your nose and above your upper lip.  How to use in conversation; “I stroke my philtrum when I’m thinking.”

Ferrule – The metal part on the bottom of a pencil. How to use; “My flipping ferrule flew off my pencil”

Mondegreen – A misheard lyric.  Eg, in Taylor Swift’s song ‘Blank Space’ I always thought the lyrics were “Got a list of Starbucks lovers” when it’s actually “Got a long list of ex-lovers”.  What a fucking mondegreen.

Tittle – This is the dot over an I or a J.  How cool is that?!

Bibble – Nothing to do with punctuation, it’s actually the noise you make when you’re a noisy eater.

Misophonia – The fear of specific noises.  Like cutting cardboard or eating Wotsits.

Trypophobia – The fear of irregular sized holes.  Google Image Search.  I might have this.

Zarf – This is the cardboard sleeve which protects your hand from searing hot take-away coffee.  How to use “If I can’t have a zarf can I at least have another cup?”

Frisson – The sudden feeling of excitement.  I used to always get this feeling before I went out.  It’s kinda like shivers, but some people also refer to it as having some one walk over their grave.  In future if you hear someone say this you can respond “No you dumb shit that was a frisson, duh.”

Glabella – The space between your eyebrows, just above your nose.  In a sentence; “I have a splitting pain behind my glabella”  HAHA!  No will know what you’re on about!

Dysania – I was shocked that this word isn’t used more often.  Dysania is the feeling you get in the morning when you are physically and emotionally struggling to get out of bed.

Jentacular – This comes after dysania.  It’s wanting breakfast as soon as you manage to get out of bed.

Wamble – Finally, this is the sound your stomach makes when it grumbles.  “Give me food, the wambles are getting out of hand.”  (Not sure if that’s correct use of the term)

Isn’t learning fun!?

To conclude, I just wanted to touch on what I’ve been harping on about in my previous bloggies – mindfulness and wellbeing. The reason I’ve started to read and learn a bit more is to aid my mental health.  I can’t stress enough how important it is to take time to do something for yourself, even if it is just learning the meaning of a new word.  A new word can start a conversation with a stranger, teach you something you may never have known and encourage you to go on and learn something else.

You have control over your kismet.  (Look it up)

Story Time: The Blender.

 

When I decided to ignore my monster of insecurity and write this blog, I found I was constantly reminding myself not to write about mundane topics and to stay away from a ‘woe is me’ style of writing.  I’ve kept journals and diaries intermittently my whole life; I thought I would look back on them fondly with rose tinted glasses and a warm sense of nostalgia, however, as most journals will be, they’re extremely embarrassing.  Despite this, I have chosen to share one, which could be regarded as a little mundane as it was a ‘woe is me’ diary entry, but I feel it’s entertaining nonetheless.

It’s one of my oldest ones, when I was 7 or 8.  This is now a classic Dobbin dinner time story in my house. You know the scene; for once everyone is in a great mood, laughing and joking, poking fun of silly things we did when we were cute(r), trying to out-do each other with embarrassing stories of our shared past.  Seven out of ten times my mum or sister will mention ‘Molly’s Diary Entry’ and everyone will roll around the floor laughing.

I remember what actually happened very vividly, and I should provide some insight so we can all be fair about this whole escapade. I had watched an episode of Finger Tips, wherein Fearne Cotton guided me happily through how to make banana milkshakes (she was totally on that program with Stephen Mulherne).  I need to emphasize the gravitas of how delicious this milkshake looked.  I didn’t even really like bananas, but it was so elementary it practically made itself.  Bananas, milk, sugar – blend.  We had milk and sugar of course, but did we have bananas, and more importantly did we have the fundamental blender?!

We did.  WE DID!

JOY.  I would finally get to recreate something I had seen on TV.  None of this ostentatious Art Attack shit where I needed acrylic paints, glitter and PVA Glue (and talent – you lied to us Neil Buchanan).  I didn’t need to ask a grown up to help me. I didn’t even need to pull a chair over to the sink.  This was as easy as tying my shoe (which I had recently mastered).

So with the milk on the island, the sugar out and bananas peeled, I’m almost ready.  I go into the pantry to haul out this blender.  It’s roughly 1997 so the blender is literally the Titanic.  I onerously take Titanic and plug her in.  Almost there.  I can practically taste that sweet potassium dairy goodness.

Disaster strikes.  My mum walks into the kitchen and my dream collapses.  Tells me to ‘Put away the blender’, shouting that she doesn’t want to clean up after me again, ‘not after last time’, whatever that means.  As a very irascible child I naturally protest, I implore my mother to understand, I desperately try to convey my convulsive need for milk blended with banana, I cry… I end inevitably sulking in my room.

I felt like a Prisoner of War. There I was, set to have my first ever illustrious banana milkshake and the experience is over before it could begin.  Beleaguered in my bedroom, I release my anger by screaming into a pillow for 30 seconds straight, then take my little red face over to my little lilac desk and write in my little flowery diary.  Having only just mastered the basics of the English language I write something along the lines of “I hate my life.  I want to die.  Mum won’t even let me use the blender”

I know that despite how ludicrous this was, there is something sweet to this story.  I know that others will have similar experiences, although they are not cause for feelings of discomfort or embarrassment. I feel these memories should remind us of how innocent we all once were.  It makes me feel an ambivalence which is synonymous with childhood.  That bittersweet, rueful quality of life whereby you feel like you lost an old friend, but gained something very important along the way.