Light Up The Darkness

Another bright left has been extinguished. Chester Bennington, singer for Linkin Park, passed away on 20^th July 2017. Cause of death – Depression.

We need to start being more open about mental health. For some reason we keep it a secret as though we must not speak of an illness that only shows its face in those final, painful moments.

Why do we keep mental health hidden? Why do we fear it? Because it cannot be seen? Yet there are many invisible illnesses that are accepted and spoken about without the level of Victorian-esque fear that mental health seems to inspire. It almost feels as though we still live in an age where any of us may become a spectacle in an asylum.

But mental health has come so far since those dark days of Bedlam. No longer must we live in fear that we're going to be a person who is scorned or ridiculed. No longer are we going to be paraded for the entertainment of others. Those days are gone. Finished. Over.

Yes, mental health care is still lacking in so many parts of the world. But there is help. And there is hope. We may look at social media as a burden yet, in this day and age, we are only a few key strokes away from asking for help. No one knows who they're linked to until they ask. No one knows what the hive mind of the internet can turn up. You don't have to suffer alone any more.

You don't have to suffer.

You don't have to suffer.

You don't have to suffer.

We are all here for one another, here to support, and to love, and to care. These illnesses, the ones that drive us to the depths of wanting to end our lives, don't need to hide in the darkness any more. It's time for them to be visible. It's time for them to speak their names. It's time for them to stop pushing people in to the shadows for fear that others will humiliate them for daring to say, “I don't feel well.”.

You are not alone. And you are precious. You are loved. You are beautiful. We live in a world that wants to push us in to those shadows, that wants us to hate ourselves because we're not “perfect”, that wants us to disappear because we don't fit into a mould.

Every one of us was born to be different. We weren't born to all look the same, or act the same, or think the same. You are amazing just the way you are. It's time for us to start accepting ourselves as we are and to stop beating ourselves up because we're different from what the world expects us to be. You, and your brain, are exactly where you're supposed to be right now. Time flies and, two years from now, all could be different. Hang on. Keep breathing. Keep living. Don't give up.

Don't ever give up.

Don't ever give up.

Don't ever give up.

You are worth so much more than deciding to step away now. Your thoughts, your ideas, your beauty, everything that makes you you is destined to be here right now. You are destined to be here. There's a reason for you living in this moment and it's not to step away. You are not a burden. You are not worthless. You are not useless. You are not nothing. You are someone.

You are a relative, a lover, a friend, a colleague, an internet chat friend, a social media commentator, a video creator, a blogger, an artist, a friendly face on a dark day. To someone, somewhere, you are something. You may not know it right now, but you are.

You are more than the darkness. 

Go With The Flow

Life is like an ocean with the waves of different emotions and situations coming and going. There are things that we want to happen in our lives. And things that we'd rather keep moored to the shore.

2017 has, for me, felt like it's started slowly. Yet there's already three finished pieces of work ready to go and find new homes. The one that I really want to work on has, for the moment, stalled. I've gone to pick it up again only for road blocks to get in the way. Losing my voice, cancellations, or a sudden back log of work mean that it's been impossible to sit and talk to anyone.

So I decided to see where else the ocean of life would take me. And, surprisingly, it guided me to several pieces that I'd started last year and never had the chance to finish. The road blocks were just that – minor inconveniences that meant my mind could wander elsewhere for a while.

There may be something that you want to happen in your life; a job change or holiday, perhaps. You may find that getting to that point is a struggle and that achieving that dream, no matter how small, is so tantalisingly out of reach. You may feel like your fingers are grazing the edges of your dream but, no matter how hard you try, you just can't reel it in.

Telling someone to let go of their dream feels like an awful thing to say. It sounds as though you're telling that person that their dreams are not worthy of being granted, that they don't deserve the happiness that others enjoy.

You don't have to let go. Instead, go with the ebb and flow of the world around you. Keep working towards your dream, whether it's applying for a job every week or putting away a little money towards your holiday. Giving yourself in to the flow of the world can be hard. It can be a struggle and you'll find yourself wanting to work on your dream 24/7. But even doing a little a day is great. Seeds don't sprout overnight. Great oaks don't suddenly go from an acorn to a fully matured tree in an hour. In the same way, your dream may not happen overnight.

As someone recently said to me, “Achieving your dreams is a marathon, not a sprint. Take your time and enjoy the process.”

For me, these quiet periods mean that, by the end of the year, I should have several new projects ready to go out in to the world.

Relax, sit back, and do what you can. Because you never know what's going to happen two days, two months, or two years from now.

Change of Plans

Walt Disney had his work stolen and struggled to make a name for himself. Yet he was still successful.

James Dyson couldn't find a distributor willing to sell his vacuums. He's now worth nearly five billion dollars.

Success isn't just for a few people who have been selected by some unseen force. Firstly, success is how you define it, whether it's a book deal, more money, or getting your own house. And one thing that you need to achieve your desired target is hard work.

Getting to that golden place, your utopia, takes dedication and investment. Your investment may be time, money, or sacrificing having a social life or romantic relationship.

For the first four years of my writing life, I had no social life. I didn't go out with friends and I barely left the house except to go to work. I've been single since 2011 and this self inflicted solitary confinement is starting to pay off. Only now do I feel like I have enough experience to start stretching my wings in to other projects and it's only been in the last year that my social life has started to pick up again (Which, of course, leads to the eternal struggle of “Concert? Or writing? Concert? Or writing?”!).

But not everything I work on is successful. Living Las Vegas was a good example of this in that it needed funding to go ahead. The Kickstarter was the last in many funding routes that I'd taken and was part of a process that spanned the past 24 months. Yet I haven't given up on it. For now, Living Las Vegas has been moved on to a back burner while I work on another project.

Don't give up when life gets you down. You may be discouraged now but tomorrow the sun will rise and the sky will still be blue. Take time to collect yourself and see how far you've come. Then move on to something else. If something is supposed to happen for you, eventually it will. Take the lessons that every day gives you and work out how you can grow from them. Go with the flow, work hard, and see what each day brings.

Life is beautiful. Makes yours a good one.

http://www.uiparade.com/portfolio/dark-loading-bar/

One Year On...

This past weekend marks a year since I took the last dose of Seroquel. Over the course of twelve months, I was weaned down from 200 milligrams a day to nothing. On March 28^th 2015, I took the final dose.

As I've written before, it wasn't an easy journey. There were the usual withdrawals that you'd associate with any kind of drug. Then there was the case of adjusting back to real life, something which I'm still going through.

This whole process has not been without its problems but it has been fun and interesting. Along the way, I've had to choose what I want to do. Do I give in to the darkness that my mental health can bring? Or do I look to the sun and live in the light? Taking this final step has also taught me that, in life, it takes strength to do anything.

It takes strength to quit an argument.

It takes strength to follow your heart.

It takes strength to be the person you want to be.

It takes strength to make changes.

It takes strength to grow and heal.

It takes strength to live.

Life would be boring if it was easy. We're given challenges to teach us how to face ourselves and our future. What we experience can make us. It's up to you to decide what to do with whatever comes along. Some experiences will make you want to give up. Others will leave you speechless with pride and happiness.

Life is about moving forwards. Even if your movements are slow, you're still going somewhere. The final destination is yours to choose.

This isn't the end. In fact, it's the beginning of a whole new journey. The journey may not be quick but it is about moving forward, even if it's just one step at a time.

Welcome to a whole new chapter. May your life be filled with beauty and love.

http://www.facebook.com/tobymac

The Loneliest Road

There are some periods in our life when we find ourselves alone. We may still be surrounded by family and friends but these people not understand the journey you're taking. The path you're walking may be one relating to your career, relationships, or another aspect of your life. You may not want others to know what you're working through or they may not want to know. It's a hard choice between living a life that seems normal and following what's going on in your heart.

Taking a life journey by yourself can be one of the most daunting things. You're alone with no one to talk it and the only company is yourself. It's not a straight road, either, and one that is often fraught with sharp turns and shadowy embankments. You don't know what you're going to find around the next corner and your drive to find out won't allow you to stop.

But it's the loneliness that can become crippling. Everyone needs someone to talk to, to explain what they're doing and to find reassurance for their actions. The longest, loneliest road often doesn't have these people and the person taking this journey can find themselves isolated and depressed. They want to talk. They want to share what they've seen and what they've found. Yet, all too often, the understanding souls they can talk to just aren't there.

The creative arts are like this and I've known many people who've stood on this road and asked themselves what they're doing. They've debated turning back and giving up because they can't abide the darkness that consumes them. They hate being alone and want someone to share the joy of the journey with.

I'm going through this at the moment. While I watch my friends and family prepare for huge, life changing events I find myself sitting here with piles of paperwork as I try and get my latest project off the ground. There's no promise that it will work but I can't sit back and think “what if?”. I'm driven to do it and only I can put in the work that will make it come to life. The risk and the not knowing is part of this journey that so many people take. Yet, along the way, I can't help but feel the pangs of loneliness as I watch people I know gather, laugh and celebrate.

Yet I've also seen so many people who've reached the end of the road and found amazing things at the end. Much like the proverbial pot at the end of the rainbow, they've hit the jackpot in more ways than they can imagine.

The journey may be long and it may be hard. It may seem to be fraught with danger and darkness. But good things can only come from it. Never give up and know that you're never alone.

Confidence, Determination, Patience and Self Belief

Life's tough when your confidence and self esteem have been stripped away from you. You feel like a nobody, someone who's soul has blackened and died, waiting for the moment when life will finally take away your earthly body.

My confidence was stripped away while I was at university and this unfortunate trend has continued until fairly recently. There were always more negatives than positives which made me question everything. At times, it felt as though I could do nothing right whether at work, home, or with my friends. Life was a monotonous cycle of wondering what the next disaster was going to be. Who would be the next person to chip away at my already fragile being? What would be the next event that would hammer a nail into the cracks of my carefully formed shell?

It's hard to accept compliments when everything you seem to do is wrong. You smile and brush them off, batting around comments such as, “Oh, it's nothing”. Or “Someone else could do better”. I did it with my writing.

I've had several books published so someone enjoys my work enough to put it out there. I've picked up awards. Peoples comments have been mostly positive.

Yet it was never enough to lift the darkness that surrounded me. Where there was once someone who ran her school's drama department and had absolutely no problem in being extrovert, now stood a person who wished only to hide in the shadows. I wanted to do things. Wanted to be inspired and create and go wherever my heart told me to go. But I was terrified. I was terrified of being uncovered as some kind of fraud. Terrified of letting myself be put in positions where I would be criticized even more. Terrified of opening up my heart and soul. I couldn't go there because the pain would be more than I could ever take. It was an agony I knew would drag me to the brink.

Things started to change in the summer of 2014. I'd just finished working on the piece that was given to Dave and handed it over to my proofreaders. My intentions were to send it to a publisher.

“Don't,” one of my readers said. “Turn it into a screenplay instead.”

I hadn't written a screenplay in ten years but I wasn't going to let that stop me. It took me six months to do before I sent it back to her. She loved it and made the suggestion that I talked about in Four Days, Three Flights, Two Concerts, and a Pumpkin.

So I did.

One of my problems is that I've always hated my writing style. I wanted my books to flow in a way that read like those books I immortalised. Instead I found myself writing what I considered to be a very simplistic style. And I loathed it. I desperately tried to change it but, when I did, I hated the results even more. The style just wasn't me and didn't fit with the stories I was telling. It took me until just a few months ago to realise that I was trying to force myself to be something I wasn't. I wasn't being true to myself nor was using the voice that I'd been given. Maybe I was writing in a particular style to make the messages I had in my heart more understandable?

One of the many gift journals I've received over the years.

Things started to change when I had that minor revelation. I started noticing peoples compliments and, rather than brushing them off, I thanked them. I also found the reviews from the original version of this screenplay and they made me realise that what I do, and how I write it, aren't as bad as I thought they were. In fact, they're far, far better. Over the past week or so, many of them have reduced me to tears.

I adore the premise; it rings all too poignant, foreshadowing a very possible chain of events that may become our reality one day.

Yes!!! Another fascinating story! This idea is very interesting, and I ALREADY love it.

You are building a powerful, vivid, scary world here and I am really interested in where you are going to take it. I am in for the ride! Let's do this! Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for this.

I am so proud of you! Honey, you are an intelligent woman who deserves to have her voice heard. Always remember that.

You were so courageous in your doing.

If you're one of the people whose words are listed here, thank you. Your kindness and generosity as well as your unwavering belief in me have slowly started to rebuild what was destroyed so many years ago. I hope that one day I'll be able to repay you and pay your love and kindness forward.

Measure of Success

When people talk about being successful they're generally referring to a career or how much money a person has acquired. The amount of money I had was how I judged how successful I was. Less money meant that, to me, I was less of a person.

It's taken a long time to realise that success can be measured in many different ways and it got me thinking of the things I've done since I published my first book back in 2012. When it first came out, I thought I would be one of those overnight success stories. I thought all my problems would be solved with a single book.

I may have been naïve in that way of thinking but, a long the way, I've learned a lot more about the measure of success. It's not about money, nor fame, but about the little things. The tiny moments in time when we realise that we're better off physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually, or financially than we were yesterday.

For example, thanks to my writing, I've achieved the following:

• Travelled long haul for the first time in over a decade.
• Met many wonderful people who I ordinarily wouldn't be able to meet.
• Given lectures.
• Made new friends and reconnected with old ones.
• Visited some amazing places in the British Isles.
• Created work with some incredible authors.
• Become involved with some brilliant projects.
• Taken over, and now run, a large writing website.

Success shouldn't just be measured by how someone looks or how much wealth they've managed to accumulate or whether they're on the cover of magazines. There are so many ways for a person to measure how successful they are. Sometimes it's the smaller things that mean something to a person.

Confusion

Sometimes I leave this blog for a while because I feel like I have nothing to say. It happens out in the real world, too, when my brain and mouth don't co-operate and I forget what I was going to say or just can't get the right words out in time. It's the same when it comes to writing. That has a name and we call it Writer's Block.

How it sometimes feels!

Some of it comes down to a feeling of uselessness, of feeling isolated in a world that I don't connect with. There are some days when I sit and watch the news, or read a magazine, or scroll through social media and feel like I'm living on a planet that isn't my home. I wonder why people find celebrities fascinating, why wars continue to happen over the tiniest thing, or why a video is suddenly headline news. For me, there are days when none of it makes sense and it feels as though you can't see the wood for the trees.

Other times, it's a sense that my voice is too small for this world. That people don't want to listen because, to them, what I have to say is of no meaning. So why waste the time trying to verbalise my opinions to such people?

Some of it could also be down to still adjusting to a life without medication. It's not unknown for the body to take months to make the adjustment, long after the brain has made the necessary alterations.

More often than not, it's related to stress and the exhaustion that brings with it. Recently I moved house and, for the first two weeks, I could do little more than sleep and work. I'd get up, go to work, come home, and just... fade as though there was a switch deep inside of me that would flick off. It was that point where you knew you'd get nothing more done that day. Which is tough to deal with especially when there's a hundred and one things you want to do.

For me, I saw it as a chance to relax and heal. This is a new stage in life. A new place for me to be. A chance for me to sort out my old belongings and put plans in to action for the next period of this thing that we call “Life”. There's many things I want to do and now I feel like I have a fighting chance of doing them. One thing I am learning is that it takes time. Things don't happen overnight. Nor do they happen without some kind of effort on our part. Blood, sweat and tears really do lead to success, whether it's today, tomorrow, or in ten years time.

But there are also times when you just need to take it easy and appreciate what you have around you. For none of us know what tomorrow brings. 

~~~

Rae is the author of the award winning Veetu Industries series. You can find all of her books here.

When It Becomes Too Much

TRIGGER WARNING: This post deals with a subject matter that some people might find triggering.

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Eight carriages.

One hundred and twenty tons.

20 miles per hour.

It would have been so easy.

One last breath.

One last heartbeat.

Before the void had swallowed me whole.

I'd just read something that had left me debating my future. In a matter of moments, the crushing blackness of depression had changed me from happy-go-lucky to tired and weary, settling over me as quickly as the coming of winter. My heart and soul ached and my eyes stung with tears. Suddenly everything I was working towards felt pointless and I wondered why I was wasting my time.

Standing on the platform at Queensway Station, I realised how easy it would be to just step out into nothing. It would have erased so many problems. The feeling of hopelessness would have been snuffed out in the flash of a Tube train's headlights.

As I waited for those lights to pierce through the darkness, other thoughts began to cross my mind.

The train driver. How will they feel?

My family.

My friends.

The million and one other things I want to do with my life.

The things I want to say to people before my time's up.

The words people have said to me in recent months.

The tears continued to well up. The pain in my body was all to real, the dulled emotions I was feeling causing me to feel heavy and ill.

I wanted it to end.

I couldn't take it any more.

I'd already suffered for so long, the constant up and down of my moods grinding me down. Life, in that moment, was awful and, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get the break I needed. My life was useless and hopeless. Why bother continuing? Why not just end it?

There's the rumble of an oncoming train. The warm rush of air in the tunnel. The bright orbs at the front of the train appear from the darkness.

I take a deep breath and watch as it closes in on the platform. This was it. I could do it. Wipe it out and go somewhere better.

The whoosh of the train racing into the station. The squeal of the brakes. Taking a deep breath, I took a step forward and boarded. A moment later the doors hissed closed behind me. I shut my eyes and leaned against the plastic wall before placing a hand over my heart.

I'm still here. That beating in my chest is the reason I'm here. It wasn't time to go yet.

~~~

If you're affected by anything written in this post, please speak to someone. You can find a list of helplines (sorted by country) on this website.

Look after yourself and don't let anyone dictate to you what your life should be like. It's your life. Live it as you see fit.

There's No Business Like Show Business

What do you think of when someone says “London's West End”? Do you think of the shopping? The night life? The museums?

Or, do those three words conquer up images of bright lights, grease paint and old theatres?

The West End plays host to nearly fifty theatres, with names like the Adelphi, the Vaudeville, and the Lyceum to pique the imagination. Tens of thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, of people have walked the boards of some of these historic buildings and it would take several lifetimes to work through all the different productions.

There's a magic to this part of London, one that I've never experienced in any other theatre district. The draw of the lights and the sound of the music coupled with elegant old buildings and beautiful costumes have left a mark on the city. And while the shows may have changed from Vaudeville to musicals there are some things that have stayed the same.

One of those is the musical side of the shows and it's something that London does well. Recent years have seen a rise in musicals about... musicians. From Queen's “We Will Rock You” to Carole King's “Beautiful” to the Beatles “Let It Be”. They're shows that we revel in, lapping them up, singing along and, ultimately, lining up for repeat shows. “We Will Rock You” opened in London in 2002 and ran up until 2014. It's played in nearly twenty countries, including a year long run at the Paris Hotel and Casino in Las Vegas and a current tour on board the Royal Caribbean cruise ship, Anthem of the Seas.

So why have we fallen in love with musicals about musicians? For me, it's a mix of nostalgia and the love of music. I wasn't born when Beatlemania swept the world. I was too young to remember when Queen took over the Live Aid stage. Carole King, thankfully, has a much more prominent place in my memories thanks to my parents love of her “Tapestries” album (as do both the Beatles and Queen. Both bands were played to us extensively when we were young and my brothers and myself have a love for them.).

For people of my generation, and younger, the shows are a chance to see the bands our parents grew up to. It's a moment when we can see the songs performed by a live band (albeit not the band) and sing along. Normally in the company of our parents. It's a chance for us to bond and talk and find a common thread in a life that can be so fractured and lonely. The music brings us together and helps us find a language that we all speak.

There needs to be more of these musicals about musicians. We love them. We love the artistry and the performances. We love the stories they tell and we love to sing along with songs that we thought had been forgotten. It's good for the heart, it's good for the soul, and it's good for the world.

When The Candle Burns Out

Your skin feels as though it's been sliced open and salt poured into the wounds. You alternate between wanting to sleep and being wide awake. You wake up at 5am but want to go back to bed at 10am. Your stomach can't hold anything. You feel... hopeless, a failure, a person who's not fit for the world.

Yet this is the reality for some people who suffer from mental health issues. I refuse to call it a “problem” because I don't let it stand in the way. For me, it's another mountain to conquer. It doesn't define me, nor will I let its label be the one thing people know me by. I'm a daughter, sister, friend, author, photographer, impromptu comedian and sometimes poker dealer (For the record, I deal blackjack better than I do poker). At the moment I'm also having a love affair with my bed (some things never change!).

But I'm still learning to live in this brand new body. My energy levels are still all over the charts, as is my concentration. I can go for weeks without having a problem before having a run of bad days. And it's learning how to deal with those bad days that's the hard part.

When the sickness began to rise a couple of weeks ago, I put it down to the heat and the high humidity. It was the same with the almost constant exhaustion and need to sleep. Ditto with the refusal to eat and drink. And then when I did get to bed, I couldn't sleep. Too hot to do anything.

Then I began noticing other things. I couldn't settle in to any one task. Work of any kind was becoming an impossibility. I'd get up to fetch something only to get halfway across the room and forget what I'd gone for. The sheer frustration was making me cry.

Slowly it dawned on me. What I was feeling wasn't a direct result of the weather (although some of it was. I'm not great with British summers. Other summers, yeah, bring it on. But British summers with their unpredictable weather and high pollen counts can be a nightmare). What I'd most likely done was use one little word way too often.

“Yes.”

I'd say “yes” to this project and “yes” to that project. I'd said “yes” to one idea and “yes” to another. In amid it all I'd forgotten that I now need to regulate myself. Suddenly I couldn't burn the candle at both ends and run at a million miles an hour. Suddenly I needed to take time out and relax. I was horrified. But I know that I have to do it in order to build up the strength for some of the projects I want to work on. Even if it's napping on the sofa with the cat, I have to stop and listen to my own body because, if I don't, then I'll be right back to square one. And that's a frightening prospect.

One day I know I'll be able to run at a million miles an hour. One day I know I'll be able to light the candle at both ends. But first I've got to learn how to do it again.

My Life Jigsaw

Being off anti-psychotic medication is like having an unfinished jigsaw. You can see the picture and you might even know what it looks like when it's finished. But there are pieces missing. Sometimes it's a few pieces. Sometimes it's most of the puzzle.

That's how I currently feel. Which is one of the reasons I haven't done a lot with this website. Or much else for that matter. Back in March, there was a mostly completed jigsaw that I called “My Life”. There were a few pieces I was waiting to put in to place before I felt like I was mostly complete.

Then I took the final doses of the drug and, as it slowly left my system, the jigsaw was tossed in to the air. Suddenly I was staring at a small pile of jigsaw pieces, unsure of what to do with them. Some are easy to put back in to place. Some are not so easy to fit back into the puzzle and now I'm finding myself left with a little pile of pieces.

So how do you recover from medication withdrawal? It differs from person to person. One person may find it easy while another may find the transition extremely difficult.

I feel like I'm somewhere in the middle. I'm enjoying being off the drugs and “flying free”. The ideas are flowing and the laughter comes easily. Yet, at times, I find that difficult. Inspiration and energy come and go in waves. Some days I'll write for hours. Other days I won't even look at my current project. I haven't written much in the past month, this post being the first thing I've really sat down and thought about.

Conversation is another thing I'm struggling with and I'm so thankful for the people who are giving me time to talk, even when I'm slow to find the words I want.

Dealing with day to day life has had both its ups and downs and I'm grateful for those who are walking that walk with me. The people I live, work, and interact with have been so loving and generous, giving me the time and space I need to adapt to this “brave, new world” I'm finding myself in. Sometimes I get it wrong. Sometimes I get confused. But the excitement at realising that I can do something, unaided by another person or pharmaceutical intervention is the biggest reward right now. I could win the lottery but remembering to put the bin out at the right time or taking my vitamins is a far bigger achievement.

Emotions often swing between raw and excited. I've shed more tears in the past month than I have in the past decade. Tears, I've discovered, are cathartic and clearing, slowly healing my newly recovered soul.

Sure, it feels like it's been a bit of a rough year so far. But right now it feels good to be alive and take on the world. I can't wait to see what tomorrow, next month, and next year have in store!

Rejection

Rejection. It’s not something we often talk about on this blog. Instead we try to keep it light hearted and positive, filled with inspiring posts to keep moral, and motivation, high.

But sometimes we have to talk about the dark side of life. Some people think I’ve had it fairly easy when it came to publishing. In a way, I did. I sent out several enquiries and was lucky enough to be picked up with my third one. Torquere Press have been incredibly nice to me over the past few years and I love working with them. For me, they’re the publishing family many people can only dream of.

Yet there was plenty of rejection before that time, and there’s been plenty afterwards. There were the two documentaries that ended in the pre-production stages. One got as far as funding before someone, somewhere, said “No”. It was with great regret that we had to pull the plug.

There have been competitions I’ve entered where I’ve not even been placed. Over the years, I’ve been rejected for more jobs than I can count. Lovers and friends have rejected me. But I admit my own failings in those instances. I wasn't completely blameless when it came to the breakdown of relationships.

Last year I sent out two hundred requests for interviews for a book. Only one of them bothered to reply, and that was in the negative. And it wasn’t because they were rushed or ill thought out. The packs that were sent out had had hours of thought put in to them. They were sent past legal, proof reading, and creative teams. Yet despite the time, effort, and thought that had gone into the packs, and the project, it still came to nothing.

There have been many, many other instances where a door I’ve wanted to open has remained firmly locked. Rejection is painful. It can shatter hearts and stop lives in their tracks. There have been many times where I’ve wondered why I’ve carried on doing what I do. I’ve debated stopping all together because, at the end of the day, is it worth it? Will there be any rewards from the seeds I’ve sown?

Yet there have been many rewards. There are new friends, beautiful reviews, the chance to travel from time to time, and a couple of awards. I’ve seen my destroyed confidence slowly grow with it and, right now, I feel far better than I have done in many years. Also, deep in my soul is this desire to create. It’s a desire that I’ve tried to kill time and again. But it refuses to die. With each rejection it comes back stronger, a bright light that calls to me.

Maybe there have been doors that aren’t mine to open. If they are, I just move on to the next one. Recently I’ve started listening to not just my heart, but also my friends and family. I’ve taken things and adapted them and, over time, I’ve started to watch them grow into new things. It’s a great feeling to be planting new seeds and watching them flourish.

Never give up; I believe that’s the motto of this post. Listen to your heart and keep on following it. Don't let the pain of the past ruin the pleasure of the future. Yes, the rejection will hurt but it’s a pain that will only last for a heartbeat. After that, it’s time to pick up yourself up and carry on. Because you have no idea which door is going to open for you.

Keep Moving

Sometimes we have to leave our comfort zones to realise what we want from life. Sometimes we have to stand on the outside and look in to see the changes we need to make.

Which was partly why I went to Vegas. Yes, it has been on my “To Travel To” list for about a decade. But I needed to get away. Needed to look at myself in another light. Needed to let off some of the steam which has been boiling away for the past few years.

Sunrise in Vegas

Everything always looks more exciting when we're there. When we're a tourist we can well imagine ourselves living in the place we're visiting. And many of us chase that dream. A few days after I arrived back from the States a friend of mine moved to LA.

So I've made the decision to change my life. It's been a long time coming but I needed something to kick start it. I needed a change of perspective to see what I have and what I want from life. And boy did I get the kick up the arse that I needed!

British small town life isn't all that great. It's pretty much like anywhere in the world. There's not a lot to do, bands frequently pass you by for the bigger draw of London 100 miles away. Shops are closing faster than they're opening, and the ones that are open don't stock anything you need (Unless you need more greeting cards than you can shake a stick at, clothes that will fall apart after one wash, and more mobile phones than you'll ever need in one lifetime). Jobs are few and far between and the ones you can find don't offer much in the way of promotion or pay. Yes, I know it's like this all over the world. But are the prospects better outside of what I know?

I don't know, which is why I'm trying. I'm still writing but, at the same time, I'm applying for jobs all over the world. I'm looking for new places to live. I want new experiences and I have very little tying me down to where I live now. And I definitely don't want to get to the end of my life thinking, “I wish I'd done that.”

So I'm going to do it. I'm going to knuckle up, get rid of my insecurities and go. It's a big world out there and I don't want to miss any of it.

I'm An Addict!

Hi! My name's Rae and I'm an addict!

Well, former addict now. Once upon a time, I was hooked on cocaine, amphetamines, ketamine and alcohol. At one point, I pretty much blew my brain thanks to everything I was taking. I was hooked and I loved it. I didn't care that my skin was yellow, my hair was thinning and I was on the verge of losing my liver.

Addicts can be selfish fuckers. I didn't care who was picking up the tab as long as I was drinking, eating, getting high and had a place to sleep. I didn't care if my hand was in your pocket. Hell, you'd better count your fingers once I was done with you. I didn't care as long as I was as high as a kite and had something to bring me back down. Some people may remember me from those days and, to them, I'm sorry and I thank you for staying beside me and believing in me.

For the most part I was a functioning addict. I held down a job and had a relationship. But one day the lights went out. Something in my brain flicked off and on and I found myself spiralling downwards. Hallucinations, shakes, I had the lot. Whether it was an overdose or just my brain deciding it had had enough I don't know. I was admitted to hospital for brain scans and eventually put onto medication to level everything out. One friend dutifully took me to the hospital whenever I needed to go. We spent a lot of time discussing life, the universe and mental health. To him I will be forever grateful. That was in 2004. A couple of years ago I was finally diagnosed with bipolar, something which may be a result of the “breakdown”. I'm still on medication and may be for the rest of my life. I still hallucinate from time to time. The worst episodes see me locking myself away in the windowless bathroom.

It took me four years to get back on my feet. Four years of not working, not writing, not doing a lot of anything. I hated myself. I felt useless and broken, a waste of space and a drain on resources. Several times I contemplated suicide. Eventually a wonderful person in the north took a chance on me and gave me a job. I was finally able to feel something akin to pride.

I've moved since then and am still in touch with the wonderful people from the north. I work another job now. My first novel has been published, my second will be out in October and I'm currently working on my third. Occasionally my brain still flips out, still breaks down. So I still have to be ultra careful, not pushing myself too hard. Occasionally I forget and everything stops.

Why am I writing this? Why am I airing my dirty laundry? Because, no matter how you're feeling, life's not useless. If you feel like crap remember that the sun will rise tomorrow. If you feel like life has lost its lustre, go and find something which inspires you. Never give up no matter how bad you feel. There will always be bad times but there is hope. There are people who are willing to help you. Tomorrow is just another day, another step closer to the person you want to be, another chance to do what you want to do. No matter where you want to be, keep going.

If life gives you lemons, make lemonade!