Tag: Crohns disease

Introducing…Trust Your Gut


My name is Billie Anderson, I’m 21 and I’m a history student down on the sunny English coast! If we are talking hobbies in conjunction with student life, it mainly surrounds how much alcohol you can consume without hospitalising yourself. And also knowing where the cheapest pizza is to soak up all that booze!
The other things I enjoy in life (along with wine and pizza) aren’t exactly mainstream: I owned two very naughty ponies who loved to see how quickly they could throw me into the mud! As a kid I’d spend my pocket money on a new bridle or rugs for the horses rather than makeup and clothes like my friends!
I’m also an avid petrol head – an interest that was spurred by my grandad when he took me for a drive in his classic Porsche 924 when I was 7. I almost drowned when the passenger-side foot well flooded with water! There is so much character to a classic car – the smell of pure petrol mixed with 50-year-old cigarette smoke that is ingrained into the upholstery of a 1971 mk1 Ford Capri is so much more exciting than a Prius! Ive always preferred scrolling through classic car magazines looking at engines and the restoration of some beaten up old Beetle, than the ‘top ten reasons why your crush is ignoring you’ section of Hello!
Im also a super nerd! With the end of university growing ever closer, it’s a time that every student dreads… Dissertations! Along with my not-so-conventional hobbies, the area of study I specialise in is the history of piracy. So it’s 10,000 words about the life of Jack Sparrow and ‘research’ includes watching my way through every single Pirates of The Caribbean film! Not a bad way to spend the year if you ask me!
Now I’ve tried to make myself sound slightly interesting, onto the blog I run! Around 9 months ago I created Trust Your Gut. I started this project after being diagnosed with Ulcerative Colitis – one of the ugly sisters of IBD (Inflammatory Bowel Disease) – the other being Crohn’s disease. I decided to write about my illness due to how isolating it can be; I felt so alone in my fight against Colitis, not knowing anyone who had experienced it, and I didn’t want anyone to go through the same thing I did.
I found myself spending more time in hospital, talking to doctors, rather than going to uni and partying with my mates, so Trust Your Gut became a place where I felt other people could get a more human response to the illness rather than just the clinical talk you get from doctors and nurses.
As my illness progressed however, it became clear that my UC was very serious and the drug therapy I was placed on wasn’t making me any better. So in January 2018, one year after my diagnosis, I underwent major abdominal surgery to remove my very angry, ulcerated colon and given an ileostomy (so I haven’t got a large intestine and my small intestine pokes about an inch out of my stomach into a bag). Due to my surgery, Trust Your Gut went from being all about my life with a chronic illness and spreading awareness for IBD, to stoma awareness.
It is now all about how my little stoma bag saved my life!
From my point of view there isn’t enough awareness about IBD or stomas – particularly for younger people – and I hope that Trust Your Gut can be a platform to spread the word! This is a blog that has been a little refuge for me and hopefully other people (those who are diagnosed, have a connection to the disease through someone else or even those who just want to find out more) in raising awareness for an illness that isn’t talked about enough!
Along the way I’ve been inspired by so many other bloggers, vloggers and Instagrammers who all do so much to raise awareness for IBD and stoma life. The little Instagram family that I’ve built up over the last few months has been a lifeline of support and love in the fight against such a difficult disease!
Trust Your Gut has been something that I’ve found I truly love – a little project that hopefully helps raise awareness for those who don’t know about IBD and also a place where those who do know about it can find some comfort in knowing they aren’t going it alone! I love divulging all my secrets and probably boring the pants off everyone on there! In amongst the non-conventional hobbies I have, I now have a very non-conventional blog to go with a non-conventional stomach, all in the hope of spreading a little love!
You can find out all my secrets about bag-life here (https://trustyourgut.blog) and on Instagram too (@billieandersonx)!
Here’s to making the very non-conventional stomach I have conventional!

Billie’s Instagram:

Billie’s Blog:

billie 6

*Written by Billie Anderson, Trust Your Gut | Edited by Dawsonxo | Photo credit by Billie Anderson, Trust your Gut | Subject to Copyright*

Advertisements

A Letter to my Mum…

me and mom 2

I know you shouldn’t only appreciate people on a certain day, but I have a cold hearted and emotionally reserved persona to up keep in regards to my family. So for this mothers day only (and you’re only getting this once mom so I dunno, copy and paste it, print it out and frame it if you have to) I will give you the gift of cringiness and honesty. All those face mushes and ‘why don’t you show me affection. I LOOOOVE YOUUU’ whines when you’ve had one too many glasses of prosecco have come down to this post. And only on this post can I express my love and gratitude because quite frankly I have at least 24 hours before I have to face you with embarrassment.On Friday the 13th October you had a visit from the dreaded midwife who continues to call me ‘scrawny’ and together you joked that because it was the day of the devil, on week 34 out of 40 in your pregnancy, ‘wouldn’t it be funny if she came today.’

Well, the day of the devil it was.

You stepped out of the car into the carpark to go to your antenatal appointment, like I

8

have since done in that very place, when your placenta separated completely from your uterus. This is called a placenta abruption and can be life threatening to both mother and baby.

Although you woke up days later, being bathed by some old fuddy nurses after blood transfusions and life saving treatments, you was now baby-less. But like a bad scent ever since, I was merely lying in an incubator with cotton wool on my knees making all the midwives wish theyd never met the emergency premature 666 child you had traumatically and unconsciously brought into the world.

We were never a well off family and I didn’t mind, you would spend days making angel delight or jelly with me as if it was some gourmet baking when realistically Luna could probably do it if it weren’t for the fact she doesn’t have opposable thumbs. And mom, sorry but you’re cooking hasn’t improved since, you’re the only person who manages to burn super noodles, but I love it. I love that you served my previous boyfriends raw vegetables so they had to eat it politely and I love that you are so in denial to cooking

4

instructions because ‘you know best’ because it is what makes you, you. I can’t wait for my child to say ‘I hope grandad cooks because nanny’s food is horrible’ like every grandchild is supposed to say.

One Christmas, dad had lost his job and you had been ill all year, I didn’t understand what mental health was, I didn’t understand how a person can struggle because you didn’t let me see the hardships. I thought you were feeding me frozen sausages and frozen sweetcorn because you just wanted me to never develop a palette, when all my friends got green giant sweetcorn with its sugary canned taste or butchers special sausages. I didn’t know that a person could be unhappy because you always laughed when I said 1051 was

12

my favourite number (I still don’t get why that’s funny) or I (very out of tune) composed a rendition of the cuckoo clock song in the sound of music, because I didn’t know that one could smile but be in so much pain then. On that Christmas you had warned us we had no money and not to be disappointed, (I knew santa wasn’t real obvs ,but alex still believed) we made m&m cupcakes for ‘santa’ because I was a fussy eater and despite the fact you wanted mince pies, you let me have my way, and we watched shrek lying on our first ever brand new sofa (that alex immediately dropped cake icing down), until alex went to bed and you let me eat all the m&m cakes. But that morning, you still handed us mountain after mountain of presents, I got exactly what I wanted that year and more, despite the fact I now know we couldn’t afford it and you had to go without so much for yourself.

2

When we got a little older, you were still really ill and getting worse, I was starting to understand a little that there was this thing called depression, but I was ignorant and I didn’t understand. I thought you were just crazy and moaning all the time, enjoying arguments. I remember we went on a family trip to Ikea and the whole journey we were rowing, you and dad, you and me, we were screaming louder than we did when skindred came on and youd hide down whilst me, dad and alex blew whistles out the window on the motorway to the song in embarrassment. When we finally got out the car after you had stopped screaming you immediately fell over the curb and face planted the floor. I found it hilarious and im ngl im laughing thinking about it now but you got back up and strutted off not letting it phase you and you were a boss.

I remember when I came home from pontins and I was moody with you because you

6

explained you were ill because of stress and I thought it was fake. Stress? Whats stress?

When I was 16 you sat with me in a box room covered in white walls and listened as I explained I wanted to take my own life by swallowing lots of pills to some random woman. I knew then what you had suffered all those years and what I had ignorantly begrudged you of in those hard times. I had begrudged you a you. I hadn’t sat in the room letting you explain how you feel without judgement, I hadn’t held you when you were sad and I hadn’t said it was because you were ill you were acting out of character and then helped you get better, I hadn’t been there for you like you were for me. You let me sleep in your bed every night so I didn’t panic, even though it was the only real time you got to be with dad and you gave up all your days to look after me and make sure I was okay, watching repeats of shitty channel 5 films.

3

You come with me to every hospital appointment even when I don’t want you to come, youre just so stubborn and even when I don’t know I’m ill you always do and you help, even when I push you away.

I was a child and couldn’t give that to you but I want to say that if I could go back, I would, and maybe we wouldn’t have lost so many years to the illness we both struggled with.

When I was 18 and I had gotten involved in drugs and alcohol we hated each other, we couldn’t live under the same roof because I didn’t understand what the problem was. I’m 18 I can come home at whatever time I want, in whatever state I want and with whoever I want. And I can categorically say that my child aint ever touching alcohol. And sex? Nope, they are gonna be virgins for life if I have anything to do with it. So in hindsight, I know I was troublesome and you weren’t really an evil bitch, you were just a mother. My mother.

Despite the fact we didn’t get on you still let me cry on your shoulder and ordered me a

5

dominoes when I split up with my boyfriend. You let me make my own decision to go back to him even though you knew he was bad because it was what I wanted and when he hurt me again you didn’t say I told you so, instead you encouraged me to get back out there. You even suggested I went on tinder and would be my back up on a date, which back then I would’ve rather died than take my mom as a back up.

Since then I grew up.

Since then, even though you embarrass me when I come home to find the front door open and you passed out drunk on the floor, when you feed my fat dog human food against my will or when you put your feet up on my sofa with your dirty boots still on I wouldn’t change it.

1

Since then you have become my bestest friend. I can talk to you about anything and you make me laugh, I don’t understand how we ever disliked each other because right now you are my favourite person in the world. You lost your mum young but you still became the perfect mother without any guidance and my life would never be the same if it weren’t for the things you did for me or the way you brought me up. So because of you I am able to be an amazing mom to my child.

I hope my child doesn’t end up hiding in the car when I face plant the pavement on boldmere highstreet and let strangers help me up whilst they duck down as if to say ‘that ain’t my mom’ or tell me the rapids aren’t fast and then laugh at me as I nearly drown.

But I hope that my child has a mom like you.

We never saw eye to eye but you are my best friend and I cannot wait for you to be a grandparent and keep saying ‘god you’re just like me’ or telling me off for disciplining my child. I can definitely wait for all those ‘I told you so’s’ and karma coming back to hit me as my child puts me through all the things i put you through.

So happy mothers day momma, I love you lots. You are my hero, my best friend and my mom.

P.s. We don’t ever speak of this post again.

xxxx

me and mom

What I Actually Do – Day in the life of a Crohnie

Last week when I was having my 10am trip to the sick bowl, I was watching an interview, or rather a ‘debate’ on This Morning involving two women. One woman was a full time stay at home mom and the other a 9 – 5 working mother, and as much as I applaud the efforts of the working mom she caused a lot of uproar with branding the other as ‘lazy’ and questioning what exactly stay at home mom’s do.
This is a close debate to me because very often some ignorant person slides into my dm’s to ask me exactly ‘what I do?’ and yes I am a self proclaimed lazy arse, but I also work hard and do not do “nothing.” After talking to a lot of other Crohn’s sufferers I find myself telling them to not feel guilty about doing nothing or achieving nothing more than a 6 hour nap on a day they aren’t feeling great and yet I feel myself having to justify what exactly I do still.


So first off I’m going to state that I don’t feel I have to justify myself but there are a lot of you who are non-maliciously, genuinely interested in what a week is like for myself as a Crohn’s sufferer, work from home, M.E diagnosed, pregnant, student.
Already, my illnesses are a type of job, they are something I live with everyday and they can determine the path I go down in my life. A year and a half ago I gave up work to focus on my health and have not returned to a career since, and I do not regret that, nor do I feel like I am lazy or a ‘doll scrounger’ because of my choice to focus on being mentally and physically well over the 9-5 grind. I work hard to do normal tasks some days, sometimes getting dressed is an exhausting task or even a walk with Luna (despite the fact she’s pop-eye on a leash) can tire me out for the entire day and with the build up of my exhaustion comes a flare up, with a flare up comes a debilitating change in life, days in hospital and watching loved ones suffer the thought of what will happen to me this time. So when I say I do not work full time or have a ‘proper career’ I am not ashamed or feel guilty for being a stay at home person and any other chronic illness sufferer should not feel guilty that they too cannot work or cannot pay into the state like many other people in society can and do.
With that said this is what an AVERAGE day (there are obviously days I lie around in a vegetative state with one arm round my sick bowl and the other in a pic n mix tub watching Netflix) looks like for me.0001
I wake up when my natural body clock wakes me up, because if I don’t, boy do I know about it. On the days I have to set an alarm I fight a battle of morning sickness and body fatigue as my digestive system hasn’t clocked in yet, my body has awoken before my functions have and so they work at dysfunctional time differences. So majority of the time I let myself wake up naturally to avoid any premature trips to the toilet and alleviate the chances of a midday nap. I go down to luna, who has already attempted her prison breaks and escapology routines in which she somehow manages to escape her cage even with cable ties and a padlock on (I don’t even know how she does it but I can earn big bucks from her skills, Houdini is shaking in his grave). Feed her some goop whilst trying not to gag and then have a cup of tea, or on a bad sickness day, a cup of boiled water (wild, I know) and then run to the toilet and sick it all back up again…
“Welcome to the second trimester” they said… “Morning sickness will be going now” they said…
Well my stomach and my toilet disagree. So once ive gotten my vomiting out the way I go get dressed, which I think is the actual hardest part of the day. It’s the part where you mentally make the decision that your day is beginning and you mean business, despite feeling like its time to go back to bed already.
0003If it’s a work from home kinda day, then ill be lucky to be arsed to do my makeup cause that is commitment usually only saved for leaving the house. Joggers on, messy bun (that looks more like a sparse turd on my head because my hair is too thin to do a proper messy bun) and eyebrow-less. Our post lady (despite being half blind and unable to tell what number our house actually is) delivers my ‘blogger mail’ (again this is NOT something that happens EVERYDAY) with the same astonished expression that Michael Jackson really hasn’t died and is living at number 11 in her home town when I greet her. I spend a couple hours doing the house work and talking to the dog like a mad woman who has had no human contact in years whilst debuting my new album at top volume and a well-choreographed cordless vacuum dance to accompany it. Then by lunch time I have finished boring mundane chores and sit down to go through my emails. I argue with a few collaborators about how I deserve to be paid for advertising their brand or products and write up briefs or ‘pitches’ to them with my set fee in the hope they accept and delete all the spam about how I need a penis enlargement for my non-existent dick. Then if I have Instagram or blogging jobs to do I try to do them whilst its still light outside, setting up the brands product in some shitty layout and blab on about what I think of them in painstakingly unnecessary detail that the company are happy with. Although this proves to be a lot harder than anticipated because there are only so many flat lays or backgrounds I can use for variety within the four walls of my house (and yknow, eyebrows off means I ain’t leaving the house unless for emergencies).
If I don’t have any blogging or insta jobs to complete then I log onto my student account and do some of my uni work, or rather, I pretend im doing uni work but actually got side tracked by the latest serial killer documentary that I have on in the background and then come deadline day I cry into my laptop until ive finished and then repeat the whole cycle again come next assignment. The great thing about Open uni is its so flexible, if im having an ‘ill’ day, where I don’t get anything done, I’m not reprimanded or lectured, instead offered extra support should I want it. You get out exactly what you put in, and there’s no in-between. If I only do an hour a week of uni then I’m not in trouble for missing online lectures or activities, I just notice a decrease on my own ability come the next marked assignment. You are given your assignment due dates for the whole year when you start so there isn’t really any excuse as to why I could miss my August 2018 deadline because I knew it was coming from October 2017. Still, im a pro at leaving it to the last minute.
When I’ve finished work there is usually only an hour or so before john gets back from 0004work so I usually just chill, watch some shitty American tv show and sleep because by now im exhausted. Im exhausted every hour of the day thanks to Crohn’s but when my tasks are done that’s when I reward myself with a nap (it’s the best part of everyday). When john gets home and ive awoken like someone having a nightmare in a horror film, wondering what year it is and where ive been for the last decade, we take luna out for a run. She has developed a keen talent of finding any way possible to get into the River Trent and swims around for a little bit providing the current isn’t strong. If the current is strong, I turn into a crazed mother running after her screaming like she’s the kittens in the ‘Aristocats’ about to be swept away but she never is because y’know, shes a dog, shes a good swimmer. When ive finished having heart palpitations and accusing john of not caring or getting in the river after her, we head home and argue about what we want for tea. The system is fairly simple, ‘Did we have pasta yesterday?’ ‘No?’ ‘Pasta it is’. If the answer is yes its, ‘Okay think of something today and we’ll have pasta tomorrow’. I cook tea and we watch some shit tv before retiring like an old age pensioner to bed at like 10pm where I kid myself into thinking im going to finish my book tonight but instead end up falling asleep to family guy.
Like I said previously, days differ, sometimes I meet up with friends for a drink, sometimes I have to go to venues for various things, sometimes I am at doctors or hospital appointments or tests, some days I check up on the Etsy shop (full feature coming soon) and some days I do absolutely nothing.
So yeah, I do do ‘nothing’ but I don’t do ‘nothing’ at the same time and I’m not ashamed to not have a full time proper job. Of course on a bad day I think badly of myself, chastise myself for not being stronger or having the motivation to push through and get a 9-5 job and feel guilty that some people don’t have the choice but to work. But everybody has their own guilt battles, mom guilt, breaking a diet guilt, work guilt, not going to the gym guilt, spending money on irrelevant things guilt. It’s a natural part of mental health to feel guilty for things we have or do that we know others may not be as fortunate, but it doesn’t mean we are in the wrong. If you have a chronic illness and cannot work, if you are mentally effected by work or if ‘work’ is deteriorating your own health, there is no shame and nothing wrong with taking the back step. It doesn’t make you ‘lazy’ or a ‘doll scrounger’ or a ‘freeloader.’
In July I will be adding to my list of jobs, I will be a full time stay-at-home mom, and I have no shame in being just that. My life aspiration was to be a mother. So I am proud to be able to achieve that and focus all my energy into being the best full time mom.

Processed with VSCO with c6 preset

*As you may have noticed some of the photography is 100% better than any of my own, including the main header photo. These photos were taken and are owned by HND Photography student, Hayley Leaver. Click on any of her photos (Watermarked) to check out more of her work and show support. More of her images will be featured in upcoming posts.

xx

 

To check out my previous post Click here

My Instagram

Hayleys Instagram

 

‘Not Social Media Perfect’

I’ve been trying to start a post for about a week now but I’m so easily distracted by the stupidest things I’ve somehow found hours past and yet no post written. I didn’t want ‘blogging’ to be a chore but as my Instagram and blog have progressed, it has become more of a business/money opportunity (which I am grateful for don’t get me wrong) and thus the hobby has turned into more of a job and well, we all know how shit I am at actually sticking at jobs…

However, 2017 offered me the amazing opportunity to turn my Instagram and blog into a small business and with that I have learned just how difficult it is to live in this ‘blogosphere, perfect lifestyle.’ I am pleased to have developed into the place I am now and hope I can continue to do what I enjoy doing, but I have to acknowledge and take my hat off to every other ‘blogger’ out there. Keeping up the ‘perfect social media life’ is more of a job than you expect it to be. You think it all sunshine and happiness, waking up to the perfect latte with an aesthetically pleasing pattern on the top and a bunch of flowers to place beside for a ‘just woke up’ Instagram shot. Followed by a brand-new delivery of clothing to wear for your ‘ootd’ and then a trip around the town snapping various locations and overpriced meals before you settle back down in some fluffy bed socks to post all about your amazing day on your brand new apple mac.  

Well in reality, it’s winter in England, and you know what that means? It means a disturbing lack of natural light followed by rain, rain, horrific wind and more rain. Any chance of a vibrant picture is a lot harder to recreate when you’re an amateur and mother nature doesn’t want you to go outside. As for the coffee, if I want it, I gotta make it myself so any attempt at a delicate latte art ends up looking like a mushed up version of luna’s turds, not to mention coffee gives me the shits anyway. And receiving promo products everyday? Nope, if you want something you gotta wait for days until you’re lucky enough to be noticed and then you have to spend a further week negotiating with them how you deserve more than a 10ml tester in return for a whole advertising package. The perfect social media life doesn’t exist, I for one wouldn’t class myself as a serious blogger, i don’t own an expensive DSLR, nor do I go location searching in a party outfit to get a good fashion shot and then spend another 5 hours editing it on photoshop because I cant deal with the bags under my eyes. But a lot of your favourite bloggers do. Turning a blog or an Instagram into a business is hard work, the whole con of making money on social media is the concept of illusion. Trying to make your life look amazing is the hardest job of all because nobody is perfect. I for one, am one of the laziest people I know, it is my biggest downfall and do you know how hard it is to complete a job when you’re lazy af? No, but seriously, if you like someone’s Instagram, or their blog post, whether they are a high flying social media star or they post every month as part of a hobby, let them know you like it, let them know you support their work because it is just like any other job, it takes hard work and a lot of effort to achieve the final ‘product’ that you see.

This all sounds like im complaining about it, which I’m not trying to do because I love where I am right now. I love that I am able to pick and chose my work and still have time to binge watch Netflix or that I can work as hard or as little as I like in-between napping like a god. But the first part of wanting to be a ‘blogger’ is stepping back and accepting that it is all an illusion, it is all fake and at the end of the day it is just work and work most commonly turns boring in the end.

So with that said, I intend to start a whole new series, thanks to a fellow blogger, Maddie, who writes and owns Mind A Moment Blog, she encouraged me when I was feeling like I didn’t have much more to give because my life isn’t social media perfect. This series is going to be ‘Not Social Media Perfect’ because I make good content when i’m not massively faking it, when I’m being my lazy self and living a great but ridiculously normal lifestyle. Maddie reminded me to focus on the things I have actually achieved at 22 and how I should be proud to share them with you, not the perfect make up deals or the incredibly fake advertisements which you mainly see on my Instagram because that is my job. Is anybody actually their job? Your job is only one persona and in this new series ‘Not Social Media Perfect’ I will be sharing (when I want to – not forcing anything) tips for real life, share my stories of my boring normalities and take you on a (probably dull) journey from Chloe Dawson, teenager, who started social media in her box room at her parents, to Chloe Dawson, adult, who now earns money on social media, has a mortgage and is starting a family but in the most unglamorous truthful way it is, in its entirety.

The Bell “Apparently”

So back when I became the boring adult age of 22, where no birthday is ever worth the rave until you reach 30 (which is a terrifying concept), me and john spent a few nights in Ticehurst at The Bell ‘Apparently’.

Processed with VSCO with m5 presetProcessed with VSCO with m5 preset

We booked two nights in their lodge called ‘between the lines,’ each lodge is completely unique and has a different themed design. Between the lines was centred around literature and classics, the country life of sitting by a log fire playing old board games, (John is going to kill me for not being able to name an old fashioned game he played back in the dark ages when he was a child) and reading a romantic novel. The theme is evident throughout along with a cosy romantic vibe, the place was just immaculately beautiful and I can’t wait to book another trip. If you want to book a night or two at The Bell click here, you can book a room in the main hotel or a private lodge, like the one we stayed in.

Processed with VSCO with m5 presetProcessed with VSCO with m5 presetProcessed with VSCO with m5 presetProcessed with VSCO with m5 presetProcessed with VSCO with m5 preset

IMG_65653IMG_65673IMG_65713

On the first day, after 4 hours of praying that kitty (or Jon snow as I like to call it to piss john off) – the car by the way – don’t ask – didn’t break down (very ironic, but that’s for a different day) we spent the time drinking in their bar and retiring to chill out in the lodge. We started up the log fire and john nipped to the shop to get a bottle of whiskey whilst I ran a bath. Anyone who knows us will know that baths are like the number one on our list of luxuries and one of the reasons we ended up together (besides Craig David – again, don’t ask) and seen as john left his copper, roll top, mother-of-all-luxurious bathtubs in the world behind in Kings Heath this was the best bath experience and we were making the fucking most of it. Like parents who have escaped the children for a night, we enjoyed not having Luna cry every time we kiss, or wipe her dirty arse across the carpet, or sit on our heads whilst trying to watch a movie. I lay in the bath and john sat on the balcony beside it, smoking a cigar (Mostly johns part, sorry mom), drinking whiskey and chatting beside the log fire. (As well as fighting over who’s music to listen to as the lodge had built in speakers all around.) It was perfect.

Processed with VSCO with m5 presetProcessed with VSCO with m5 presetProcessed with VSCO with m5 presetProcessed with VSCO with m5 presetProcessed with VSCO with m5 presetProcessed with VSCO with m5 preset

When it started to get too chilly we ordered a Chinese to the lodge. I made john do the shame walk into the restaurant to ask for plates and cutlery and turns out beside the fact Ticehurst is the most aesthetically pleasing and beautiful, tiny country village, they also do the BEST chicken in black bean sauce dish I’ve ever had the pleasure of tasting, (and in 22 years ive had a lot). BUT they didn’t do yuk sung so y’know, point down to the beautiful village we wanted to move to. The village was so ‘British,’ the kind of country village that is portrayed to the rest of the world as what England is actually like, amazing architecture, 70’s cars, farmers delivering eggs fresh in the morning, fish mongers weighing out their fresh fish and a butcher on every corner. Instead of the pouring rain, vomit clogged drains and left over Chicken Balti on the pavement with bottles of bud and empty plastic packets of cocaine that is Birmingham.

Processed with VSCO with m5 presetProcessed with VSCO with m5 presetProcessed with VSCO with m5 presetProcessed with VSCO with m5 presetProcessed with VSCO with m5 presetProcessed with VSCO with m5 presetProcessed with VSCO with m5 presetProcessed with VSCO with m5 preset

On the second day we took a trip to Hastings, where we took a basket of smoked cheese biscuits and selection of pates intending to eat it on the beach like a 1950’s couple, but instead we found a true crime museum and spent hours sitting in an electric chair, marvelling at preserved evidence from big crime scenes and learning how to make weapons out of plastic spoons. So again another perfect day. (More on Hastings another time).

Processed with VSCO with m5 presetProcessed with VSCO with m5 presetProcessed with VSCO with m5 presetProcessed with VSCO with m5 presetProcessed with VSCO with m5 presetProcessed with VSCO with m5 preset

Processed with VSCO with m5 preset

Processed with VSCO with m5 preset

 

Processed with VSCO with m5 preset

 

Processed with VSCO with m5 preset

That night we ate at The Bells Restaurant and it was like a Michelin star, they really pay attention to detail and the décor of the place is just incredible. Morning, Afternoon and evening they have a centrepiece filled with suitable foods. In the morning is a spread of continental goods, pastries, cereals, fruit, and in the evening is a huge meat joint ready to be carved surrounded with various tapas. The menu’s they offer are ever-changing with the seasons and in pure autumnal country fashion we shared guinea fowl, mushroom arrancini, beetroot soup, braised leg and butter poached breast. It was completely different to what I would usually pick, I’m more of a frutti de mare kinda gal but it was divine and I will definitely be ordering it again. As for breakfast, i’m sure judging by my Instagram it was obvious I was going to have the eggs benedict or royale (I can’t remember which is which – the one with the smoked salmon) as that is my go to brekkie and john being john went with the biggest breakfast he could find…every morning.

Processed with VSCO with m5 presetProcessed with VSCO with m5 presetProcessed with VSCO with m5 preset2017-11-14-12-10-47-1.jpgProcessed with VSCO with m5 presetProcessed with VSCO with m5 presetProcessed with VSCO with m5 presetProcessed with VSCO with m5 preset

The hotel and lodges themselves are honestly phenomenal and well worth the money, the attention to detail is incredible, every document, tour guide, wine list and lodge guide was addressed personally to me, every day they served homemade cookies in bell jars and loose leaf tea of every single variation possible. The quirkiness of the lodge was so intricate I don’t think we even uncovered all of its magic and I cant wait to book again and try a different lodge out as every one has its own secret. Between the lines had a headboard made from novels and hand drawn images from notebooks. It also had a mezzanine floor with chaise lounges and crates full of records. The artwork throughout the hotel is all one off individual pieces with a story behind them and all the rooms boast their own poetry fitting with the ‘storytelling’ theme they have created. It was like the whole of Alice in Wonderland was compressed into a building.

I can’t really say anymore because i’d be here all day waffling on about how amazing this place is. So with The Bell’s motto “I will always love you, my friend” I bid you farewell.

Processed with VSCO with m5 presetProcessed with VSCO with m5 presetProcessed with VSCO with m5 presetProcessed with VSCO with m5 preset

Back where I belong.

I’ve got a lot of shit on my mind at the minute and it sparked me to decide to write it down, because that’s what I do best, writing. When I was old enough to write I’d make up stories, my dad worked at a printing company and he would bring home a box of blank a5 books for me and Alex to write in and we’d spend hours decorating the front with a title page for whatever shit story we decided this weeks was going to be about, my main debut novel (and I quote) ‘a girl going to Tesco and buying baguettes to go to France.’ I truly was the next Steven King, thrilling stuff.

When I was 13 and obsessed with heroes and prison break and just wondered why the fuck haven’t I got some sexy ass man trying to break out of prison for me, realising the kind of man who actually would be doing that in modern society would be some heroin smack head chav who had a long history of sex crimes and was in £10,000 debt to the JD store. Or when I called up my friend Beth one night (Calling was more efficient for us because our pay as you go bill would not cover the amount of shit we talked) because I realised super powers weren’t real and never in my life would peter petrelli fly to my bedroom window and we’d go ‘save the cheerleader’ together. (Kind of forgotten the point I was making here) oh yeah, I’d write it down.

When I was 19 and in hospital because my need for a Michael Scofield went too far and I ended up with some poor ass 30 yr old pussy who still shared a bedroom with his brother and thought he was hard cause he sniffed coke every night, who ultimately bullied me for 9 months, I wrote it down. With everything in my life I have resorted to writing, it is what I am meant to do and how I make myself feel better. Whether its real life or fiction, I immerse myself with a cute ass notebook and pen or the times new roman of a computer screen and let it out.

The point I’m trying to make by waffling on is that YouTube isn’t my thing, the people that manage my Instagram (Shameless plug here) or blog thought the best way to increase my revenue was to transfer into video content. Yes, I enjoy making videos and I love sharing my life with you all on my insta stories and of course I want to increase my fortnightly pay check so I was going to give it a go. But it’s been two weeks of making the YouTube channel and mentally it just isn’t right for me, it feels fake and staged and it feels like it’s so much hard work for nothing in return, it shows me it just isn’t for me. I get on YouTube you have to flaunt your ‘hypebeast’ vibe or start fake drama by claiming someone sexually assaulted your assistant (yes Jake Paul, you ignorant c*nt I’m talking about you) and that’s what get views, that’s what makes money. But I’m not about to go throwing some fake allegations just to get 10 year olds to watch my videos, I also am not going to sit down and show you all the amazing expensive clothes I’ve bought because it just feels fake. I love watching people’s videos, and it’s their talent, that’s what they are good at, but I’m not good at that, I’m good at writing it down.

I know for my phobia of always quitting things this is just another to tick of the list, but mentally this one is good for me to do. This one is detrimental to my mental health, I am not going to start making videos because it’s just not me, its forced and it shows in the content I make because I’m like the wooden plank from ‘ed, edd and eddy.’ Watching the insights page and subscriber count gets me down and makes me feel shit about myself for not posting the most controversial stuff or having an interesting and rich lifestyle. Instead I am going to continue the YouTube channel, but as a side project, I will do weekly vlogs and that is all because that is all that feels right to me. It feels natural and unstaged and it’s like an online diary of my year for me to look back on. If people decide they want to watch my boring ass life then cool, but I’m not going to take it to heart if you don’t.

And without further ado, if you guys, the people who empower one another, the people who make my day when they share their own experiences, the friends I have made in this community with their own amazing blogs – Trust your gut (Billie), The Alice Edit (Alice, obvs), Mamas Scrapbook (Anna) to name a few – or anyone else, want to follow some waffling posts then, “chatty” things will be on here.  

If you do decide you want to follow my weekly vlogs feel free, you will find them here, but like i said don’t expect them to be that interesting

Thanks guys

xoxo

 

*If you want to learn how to monetise your blog/instagram click on one of the photos below

IMG_5436IMG_54682

16 Things you didn’t know about Crohns (18+)

Besides the general definition of Crohns Disease which I’ve gone on about and had to describe a billion and one times before I thought I’d make a more cheery (dunno if cheery is the right word but nonetheless its better than putting f*cked up) list of things to expect when you’ve been diagnosed with Crohns or Colitis.

For those who don’t know though here is a quick summary. Crohns disease is an inflammatory bowel disease which causes inflammation anywhere along the gastrointestinal tract – from the mouth to the arse hole, so pretty much anywhere, as well as creating numerous other conditions that can come and go throughout time like anaemia, arthritis, fatigue, etc. Crohn’s is most known for being a “bad stomach ache” which is completely wrong and if you do think that you’re probably one of the idiots that think man flu exists or that Queen Elizabeth is a reptile, so (politely) fuck off.

But anyway, here is my list of things you’ll most likely encounter/have (and probably wont admit to) when suffering with IBD:

 

1.       The most obvious being you shit yourself A LOT.

 

2.       You’ll have done a grand tour of your country’s hospitals, testing each out like a celeb and mentally composing your trip advisor review.

 

3.       Getting drunk is fucking awesome because not only can you be a lightweight, forget all about how you hate your life or be the first to vomit at a party but you can get rid of your constipation by doing a huge vodka shit.

 

4.       Be a twenty year old grandma with arms and legs that don’t bend.

5.       Be wheeled everywhere in a wheelchair when you have a bad flare up and experience what pure luxury is watching someone else suffer pushing you up a hill whilst you chill.

6.       Have a seriously wide knowledge of toilet comforts. (Still waiting for Victoria Plum to respond to my product tester application)

7.       Mastered doing a boss winged eyeliner whilst having an explosive shit.

8.       Not give a fuck about contraception because getting pregnant is FUCKING HARD. (Disclaimer: I’m joking kids, you should always be protected…Alex if you’re reading this, you should just avoid sex altogether.)

9.       Farts probably aren’t just farts but it’s cool cause you wear three pair of granny pants out anyway.

10.   MI5 could hire you for your fast and sly (running to the toilet) exits and skills at convincingly blaming other people for your vile smells.

11.   Prepared with extra coverage foundation for when your face flares and looks like a baboons behind.

12.   Sleep all day everyday.

13.   Having stuff shoved up your arse is just the norm and not a wild Friday night.

14.   Your pet will love you more because you can’t go to work and have to stay with them 24/7.

15.   You have so many pills to take you don’t need breakfast cause they’re practically like a meal.

16.   You’ll probably be a mentally fucked up psycho with no filter and zero fucks given to embarrassing situations but you’re a boss and will slay whatever circumstance life throws at you.

  dont be like the rest of them

 

 

*Disclaimer – [1] these are meant in jest with no harm or offence meant to anyone suffering with or sharing particular similarities to those mentioned in this article. [2] I do not own the ‘don’t be like the rest of them darling’ photo, credit goes to Etsystatic.