Being

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It’s eight minutes past three in the afternoon and I’m in a local coffee shop with high hopes of “getting my life together”.

In fact, I’m sitting here, with this humongous weight on my chest. I’ve been struggling for a while about what to write, to bring to life the ideas in my head either for this blog or otherwise. I had great plans of figuring everything out but once I sit down, my mind falls blank.

There’s this catch in my throat. I’m feeling guilty about my life at the minute – it’s not something I’ve really experienced before. I rehash events in my head where I was the direct cause of something negative. I go through old ex’s profiles, their new girlfriends seem nice, I try to remind myself that their beauty isn’t an absence of my own but it doesn’t work.

I sort of get now what Britney meant by “my loneliness is killing me”. I wouldn’t really put it so far but there’s definitely been a sense of isolation I have been feeling lately that could be as a result of my location, my job, my all-consuming hobbies, and maybe my lack of desire to do anything in between due to sheer tiredness. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say I was depressed.

But I’m not, at least not the whole hog anyway, because I’ve been there many times before. I feel like a huge blot on the face of a seemingly perfect life and I don’t quite know how I got here or how to proceed.

So in a bid to end this isolation, I’m reaching out because I know I’m not the only one who feels this. This isn’t a cry for help, or a cry for attention, this is genuine curiosity – I’m not the only one, right?

I see now that even the best of us don’t feel our best even 60% of the time. Looking back on my social media, especially Instagram, my life looks pretty perfect and yet, I don’t feel anywhere near that. In between those curated posts, there are days I slept right through, evenings I argued with people, where I cried, days I wondered what my worth or purpose was. I’m still striving to be better/to improve/to glo up/to wake up among white plushy duvets and pillows with the New York Times next to a tray with coffee and toast but I’m not giving myself a chance to be human. No matter what we have, we always want better. And I think that’s part of why I feel so down. I’m constantly competing with myself.

I feel guilty for doing anything that isn’t productive – playing video games, sleeping in, even eating breakfast or scrolling on my phone. I’m always thinking “I could be doing something better as if the things I do don’t already give me satisfaction. “I shouldn’t enjoy these things because they don’t fit in with who I want to be” and then I’ll be at work or doing something productive and I’ll long for doing something I enjoy. It’s like I can’t win.

I push myself to be better than just being.

There’s nothing wrong with wanting to improve ourselves but we strive so hard to improve what is already good, what is already the pinnacle of who we are. I will hold my hands up here and say I’m absolutely guilty for striving to be better just so that someone else will like me more. I never feel good enough for my friends – I don’t know why, I know I’m worthy of their attention, it’s like a game, how bad can I feel before it magically gets better.

My aim this week so, is to simply just be. If I want to cry, I can. If I want to do nothing, I give myself permission to do so. I give myself permission to be myself without forcing a greater image of myself onto my already vulnerable mind. We can still improve myself or at least strive to but we need to be kinder to ourselves in doing so.

 

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A Tolkien of Modernity

If you don’t know me, you won’t know that I’ve recently fallen into a Hobbit shaped hole which I don’t really want to crawl out of just yet. I’ve become so enthralled with it that I’ve noticed it creeping into my style choices – which given the other worldly aesthetic, probably isn’t such a bad idea.

(Tolkien may have said all that is gold does not glitter but I don’t think at that stage he’d seen any of Chupi’s pieces yet)

Anyway, I thought it might be a good idea to throw everything I’ve been inspired by lately into one post – perhaps you’ll find a little modern Tolkien inspiration too? Let’s just be thankful Smeagol isn’t around anymore.

Let me know if you find anything else that’s perfect!

Faye Gown | Folkster

Just The Two Of Us | Chupi

Ellery Beaded Belt | Folkster

Gold Sequin Flower Anklet | New Look

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Helen James Considered Wild Rhubarb Candle | Dunnes

Cream Matera Duvet | Dunnes

Beccaa Harmony Ruffle High Neck Dress | Brown Thomas

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Reach for the Stars Necklace | Chupi

Believe in Magic Necklace | Chupi

Floral Belt/Headband | Folkster

Embossed Floral Vase | Anthropologie

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Liberty for Anthropologie Mug | Anthropologie

Bloom iPhone Case | Urban Outfitters 

Gem Embellished Pendent Necklace | Anthropologie

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Milla Gown | Folkster

Buncha Flowers iPhone Case  | Urban Outfitters 

Your Northern Star Ring | Chupi

Hummingbird Print Bedding Set  | M&S

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Beaded Hair Slide | Folkster

Solid Gold Sparkle in the Wild Fiery Grey Diamond | Chupi

Banana Leaf Trinket Dish | Urban Outfitters

Grazia Flower Dress | Brown Thomas

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Pile Side Plate | Anthropologie

Salem Beaded Belt | Folkster

New Traditions Mug | Anthropologie

Sarena Skirt | Folkster

Fia Gown | Folkster

Infinity Twig Ring | Chupi

April Reads

April Reads

I have recently begun devouring books again. And I mean, flying through three books in two weeks. That was usually so unlike me. In fact, not too long ago, I could barely finish a book in a year. School and college deterred me from reading for fun, drained my eyes and felt like a chore. And when I did try to read for fun, it was usually non-fiction – so there’s really no wonder why I struggled and struggled.

But after reading The Lord of the Rings, I found myself back in the habit. I read so much that when I went to the bookshop and picked up a few new novels, I didn’t feel guilty – that was the rate I was going at.

So here are a few things I’ve read lately:

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It’s Always Snowing in Wicklow

It’s Always Snowing in Wicklow

I’m going to keep the text brief as the photos speak for themselves.

Myself and two of my very close friends took a trip down to Glendalough on Saturday to catch the last of the snow. Usually this place is BUZZING with tourists, buses, families, etc but the weather over the last week and a half had made the place pretty inaccessible. But no less beautiful.

It was the perfect opportunity to try out the new iPhone X’s camera (you can decide what you think from the photos).

The snow and mist made this usually familiar trail completely unrecognisable – like an Icelandic fjord or something out of Middle Earth. There was no wind but the rain got so heavy at one point that the lake burst its banks and the river became a genuine threat. But we trudged through snow, ice and rivers to see what this usually busy and lusciously green valley had to offer – and we were not disappointed!

Continue reading “It’s Always Snowing in Wicklow”

February 2.0

February 2.0

February feels like that first breath of fresh air you get when you get off the plane that is January. It’s like suffering through 31 days of turbulence, not really knowing when you’ll hit the ground, if at all, and only happy once the 1st of February’s brief string of days roll around in the form of the seatbelt light going off.

I know where I was going with this, I promise.

The days are getting brighter which means that I no longer leave for work in the dead of night and arrive home in the dead of night. The air feels fresher (though the weather is still yoyoing), everyone seems to be in a better mood, and it’s fine to start “spring cleaning” because hey, it’s technically Spring if you live on this island.

I’ve been beyond busy with work, gym, and drama (the good kind) that I’ve barely had a moment to myself amidst rehearsals, fighting for treadmills, and receiving cold calls from stationery suppliers in the back end of nowhere.

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OCD, Nine Years On.

OCD, Nine Years On.

This year will be nine years since I started experiencing Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (and six since I started doing something about it).

I think a lot of people who knew me when I started college are aware of this but I’m choosing to write about it now, nearly a decade on from the first instance of it (during my Junior Cert!), and six since I sought help, as I have a much better perspective of my experience than before.

There are two days in my life that could categorically be dubbed ‘the worst days of my life’.

The first one was when I was 18 on a family holiday in France and the other when I was on a trip to Achill Island in 2013.

Continue reading “OCD, Nine Years On.”