tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12150354940495871132024-09-27T05:11:44.778+01:00Inconsequential ChatterThe ramblings of a scrambled mindKallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06291909440859155511noreply@blogger.comBlogger57125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1215035494049587113.post-68348913369543048082013-06-21T01:08:00.003+01:002013-06-21T01:08:37.641+01:00Book Den!<span style="color: blue;">Hello :)</span><br />
<span style="color: blue;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: blue;">So, I love reading and since I've finished University, I have found that there is more time to sit down with a book and enjoy it for what it is and not a rushed read through in between essays and exams. With this in mind, the kid's play tent that I bought the other day, has now been turned into a book den. </span><br />
<span style="color: blue;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: blue;">Every child needs a den, I think and I'm certainly not ready to let the child in me go even if I am 23. </span><br />
<span style="color: blue;"><br /></span>
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<span style="color: blue;"></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi210SQnhjKnjE9a0SbeZueslxQtLKx7OSn413Icz1IsjI7s2VKmK3TqeSUWmrwg9jXI1Z-7G_4IqN9sFRVAl5wVgAzPfWo2h0rJmYm92zR3tKs2ziylP9siTnfP6bCbo_KgyRM4tHhr1hI/s1600/P1000980.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi210SQnhjKnjE9a0SbeZueslxQtLKx7OSn413Icz1IsjI7s2VKmK3TqeSUWmrwg9jXI1Z-7G_4IqN9sFRVAl5wVgAzPfWo2h0rJmYm92zR3tKs2ziylP9siTnfP6bCbo_KgyRM4tHhr1hI/s320/P1000980.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br />
<span style="color: blue;">Incidentally, I have another picture to share from when I was on the train this morning. It's too pretty not to...</span><br />
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<br /><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: blue;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyBdjF5TOrYAbjNo2ICaWyePUruvbdMCDKodWwZPnXBMlhlwPDieu4IwcCZ4PI0IxBxWVxbbI_PL1Vg4LXKUIq5AOxD749_aEFx7rbiP-D-GhYvNLbGyYKTrahalOzmk5zusUIkXKZ0QOr/s1600/P1000976.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyBdjF5TOrYAbjNo2ICaWyePUruvbdMCDKodWwZPnXBMlhlwPDieu4IwcCZ4PI0IxBxWVxbbI_PL1Vg4LXKUIq5AOxD749_aEFx7rbiP-D-GhYvNLbGyYKTrahalOzmk5zusUIkXKZ0QOr/s320/P1000976.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: blue;">On the train from Bangor...</span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: blue;"><br /></span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: blue;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: blue;">I hope to be updating this blog more in the coming months as I search for a job =P</span><br />
<span style="color: blue;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: blue;">Thanks for reading</span><br />
<span style="color: blue;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: blue;">:) x</span><br />
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Kallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06291909440859155511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1215035494049587113.post-18310313214860673462013-06-13T13:33:00.001+01:002013-06-13T13:33:23.602+01:00BigIF<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/NjO0LbccxoA" width="480"></iframe>Kallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06291909440859155511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1215035494049587113.post-78292941551815534062013-03-28T01:05:00.001+00:002013-03-28T01:05:09.722+00:00My Journey Through Depression<span style="color: blue;">Hi, </span><br />
<span style="color: blue;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: blue;">Today's post is really just an informative one and a thanks to several people. </span><br />
<span style="color: blue;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: blue;">I
suffer from depression and have done for over a year now. Depression is
a somewhat lonely road from the point of view that only you really
knows what you're going through and you often feel like nobody can help
you. Sometimes, you push your friends away to protect them from what
you're going through...it's better than falling out with them, but
sometimes you're pushing them away because you think that they don't
care. It isn't the case. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: blue;">Something
that I've realised, is that humans have an overwhelming capacity to
love and care, often when there is no reciprocation. Over the past year,
I have wanted to let my friends have their distance from me so that I
didn't hurt them with what I might have said or done. I didn't really
give them or their capacity to love a lot of credit. I'm sorry for that
but I stand by the fact that I wanted to protect them from me. I know
what I'm like. In the deepest and darkest hours when there is only you, alone with your brain, there's no saying what you could do and to put a friend in that position just really scared me. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: blue;">My
friends have been amazing in doing their best to support me and I
realise, now that I'm turning a corner, that it really wasn't an easy
task at all. I could never express just how completely I am in gratitude
of the things you have done, however small or big, to help me over the
course of this past year. </span><br />
<span style="color: blue;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: blue;">For
a long time, I have been stuck in a sort of fog. I could see clearly
where I wanted to be and what I wanted to be doing but there was just no
way for me to be able to do it. </span><br />
<span style="color: blue;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: blue;">I
took a drastic step on the 15th March. I stopped taking the medication
that the doctors had prescribed to me. I began taking them last June
when I returned from my Year Abroad and for the most part was taking
20mg doses but they were gradually upped to 30mg after it became clear
that I was struggling to cope with university. After a few months, they
upped it again to 40mg, which is a fairly substantial amount for
somebody of my age, 23. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: blue;">The
thinking from the doctor, was that the extra dosage would help me to
get through my final semester of university. No mention on getting
through all of the work that I'd already missed. </span><br />
<span style="color: blue;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: blue;">After
a week of taking the extra dosage, I felt worse than I had before. My
mind was quite muddled and I found myself to be so much angrier than at
any point in the previous year. I felt like everybody was against me;
friends, family, housemates. Me. Little comments that wouldn't have
bothered me before because I was so numb that I felt nothing were now
making me either very angry or very upset. After a certain comment, I
took my rounders bat and did something that I had been threatening to do
for months but never fully believed that I would. </span><br />
<span style="color: blue;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: blue;">I hit my wrist 4 times. Hard. With my rounders bat.</span><br />
<span style="color: blue;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: blue;">After a year of saying that I would do it, I actively engaged in trying to break my own wrist. </span><br />
<span style="color: blue;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: blue;">It
hurt but most of all it really scared me. I knew what I was doing but I
couldn't stop it and it was almost like I was having an out of body
experience. By this point though, I had pushed my friends so far and so
much that there was nobody to turn to. I went to the hospital and found
that it wasn't broken. </span><br />
<span style="color: blue;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: blue;">When
the nurse asked me what happened, I should have felt some kind of
relief that it hadn't broken or shame at myself for trying instead of
reaching out to someone for help. I didn't feel relief or shame. I felt
angry. More anger. So angry that I hadn't even been able to break my
wrist, something children do frequently and with ease. </span><br />
<span style="color: blue;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: blue;">After
this, I didn't try again but I spent the following few weeks doing
nothing. I didn't try to persuade myself to try and do my degree, to try
and get the most out of my life. I just sat in a fog for 3 weeks. </span><br />
<span style="color: blue;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: blue;">On
the 15th March, something changed. I was running out of tablets and my
choices as far as I could see were to either go the weekend without them
or to just stop them altogether. I chose the latter. </span><br />
<span style="color: blue;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: blue;">To
go from 40mg of anti-depressants to nothing in one move isn't a good
idea and it is definitely not medically advised. If you're a person
thinking of doing that, please don't. Do go and see a doctor. </span><br />
<span style="color: blue;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: blue;">I
made this decision because I felt like it was the only way out for me.
To stay on the tablets, for me, would have meant doing no work and not
graduating with my class. Not passing isn't an option for me. Since
making the decision, I took a leap and went into uni and got the help
that I needed; help that I'd often tried before but just couldn't follow
through on. My lecturers have been amazing and so helpful and I am
genuinely so very grateful for all of their help, especially those who
don't even teach me but are trying to keep me afloat on this journey. </span><br />
<span style="color: blue;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: blue;">I
have since done 4 exams with more to come and essays to catch up but
I'm finally on the right path for me; the path that leads to me
graduating with a smile on my face. Something I can be proud of because I
know the journey hasn't been easy. </span><br />
<span style="color: blue;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: blue;">The
stopping of medication does come with withdrawal symptoms. The intense
headaches, insomnia and nausea are not an ideal part of this journey but
I try to remain positive because it's already better than before. </span><br />
<span style="color: blue;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: blue;">If
you've made it this far into the story, then thank you for reading and
sticking with this. I just have one final thing to say. </span><br />
<span style="color: blue;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: blue;">I
know that the rest of the journey will not be easy and I know that I'm
likely to have mood swings. I hope you don't get caught up in them and
that I don't inadvertently hurt you in my healing process. It would not
be my intention to hurt anybody. I'm ready to make this next step and
I'm ready to take it with old friends, new friends, teachers and
family. </span><br />
<span style="color: blue;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: blue;">To
all of you who have been a part of this journey; thank you. It's sounds
cliché, but from the very bottom of the my heart I want to thank you
for the part you have played in keeping me afloat. Without your support,
this would be much harder. </span><br />
<span style="color: blue;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: blue;">If
you're suffering from depression, ask for help, please. It isn't weak
to ask for help. You're strong to make that choice because it's
difficult to accept that you can't always do it alone. </span><br />
<span style="color: blue;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: blue;">Thank you all</span><br />
<span style="color: blue;"><3 br="" x=""></3></span>Kallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06291909440859155511noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1215035494049587113.post-91304535046779660222013-02-27T02:55:00.001+00:002013-02-27T02:55:34.920+00:00Oscar Pistorius Kills His Girlfriend?! ||xXxlinguagirlxXx<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/mstcmxX0S6k" width="459"></iframe>Kallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06291909440859155511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1215035494049587113.post-88730222115376846022012-08-14T01:19:00.001+01:002012-08-14T01:19:05.437+01:00Yesterday...<div style="color: blue;">
or the day before, depending on how you view the days and when you sleep and whatnot... </div>
<div style="color: blue;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: blue;">
Anyway, the point is, that yesterday I dropped a washing machine on my little finger. I strongly advise you all against doing this because it hurts a lot! Luckily I didn't break it but it's still rather sore. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="color: blue;">
The washing machine is fine in case you're concerned. You'd be surprised about the number of people who would be more concerned about the washing machine than my finger. Have a think yourself...I know you wanted to ask me that really. Hmm. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="color: blue;">
I think I'll go and rest my poor little finger in bed :)</div>
<div style="color: blue;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: blue;">
Not in it's own bed, mind, that would be odd and I'd have to chop it off to achieve that since it's not a detachable finger. I wonder if they'll ever invent those?</div>
<div style="color: blue;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: blue;">
Thanks for reading this weird post...congratulations if you made it to the end of it. It's short but it's weird...a bit like me. </div>
<div style="color: blue;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: blue;">
*Hands a cookie to you*</div>
<div style="color: blue;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: blue;">
Ciao! x</div>
Kallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06291909440859155511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1215035494049587113.post-32869416525977219382012-08-03T17:10:00.001+01:002012-08-03T17:13:43.342+01:00Happy Esther Day 2012<div style="color: blue;">
Today, the 3rd August, probably doesn't mean an awful lot to most of you because it is just another day. </div>
<div style="color: blue;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: blue;">
To me though, and to a lot of other people; it's the day we say "I Love You" to those people that we care about but rarely say it to. </div>
<div style="color: blue;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: blue;">
(This stems from this post - feel free to read it before you read my post - http://fishingboatproceeds.tumblr.com/post/28557373623/everybody-was-told-to-make-a-funny-face-but-i)</div>
<div style="color: blue;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: blue;">
To my Best Friends who are reading this post - Cazz, Buzz, Amber, Katherine, Cameron, Liz. </div>
<div style="color: blue;">
I love you all. I don't always say thank you or appreciate the efforts that you go to just to make me smile but I want you to know that in my darkest moments, more often than not, you have the power to pull me through. There's no way that I can put into words how much this means to me. Simply saying I Love You doesn't seem to be enough but it's all I have. </div>
<div style="color: blue;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: blue;">
To my Mum and Dad. I never stop thinking about you and I do love you; even if you'll never see it, it's out in the universe and I hope that thought finds you both. </div>
<div style="color: blue;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: blue;">
To the people who piece me back together when everything is going wrong - Stevie, Gill, Sian. </div>
<div style="color: blue;">
I don't know where I would be now if I didn't have your unwavering support. Thank you. It might not be right in the eyes of some people but we define out own relationships in this world...</div>
<div style="color: blue;">
You all hold a special place in my heart and no matter the distance or the time that passes; I hope you know that I will always be grateful for how you have helped me. I Love You. </div>
<div style="color: blue;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: blue;">
Flo - If I could, I'd tell you every day that I Love You so you would never be in doubt of that. I'm overly sarcastic and I blame you too much for things that aren't your fault. I get jealous and I get angry. I can only apologise for these faults and hope that my love for you goes some way to making up for these moments. I used to say good night to the stars when I was a child. Now I say "Bonne Nuit, Je T'aime" every night to our picture. If something ever happened, I wouldn't want my last thought to be anything but I Love You. </div>
<div style="color: blue;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: blue;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: blue;">
Happy Esther Day to you all <3 p="p"><div style="color: blue;">
Kylie/Kally xxx</div>
</3></div>Kallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06291909440859155511noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1215035494049587113.post-14173354944554079922011-11-08T02:32:00.004+00:002011-11-08T02:32:47.238+00:00NaNoWriMo<div style="color: blue;">
Well, for the past 7 days I've had a prologue and that's it. I doubt I'm going to win this year because I've had next to no motivation to do this and just haven't been in the right place mentally, but I'm going to at least try it and know that next year I will at least have a plan to begin with!</div>
<div style="color: blue;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: blue;">
Now I have characters and the person who I thought was in the prologue is somebody completely different and just not the character that I expected at all. :)</div>
<div style="color: blue;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: blue;">
Shall update you when I know more about it!</div>
<div style="color: blue;">
<br /></div>
<span style="color: blue;">Ciao x</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: blue;">Listening to Breaking Benjamin as I write. </span>Kallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06291909440859155511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1215035494049587113.post-73506544236657611052011-10-05T01:48:00.001+01:002011-10-05T01:48:21.003+01:00Portal 2 and Skype<div style="color: blue;">
I thought that tonight was going to be just another night where I'd be bored watching something in my room...but then a friend who I've made on the Internet recently asked to add me on Skype and we've been talking for two and a half hours now so that's really quite awesome.</div>
<div style="color: blue;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: blue;">
Also, I've bought Portal 2 tonight for my laptop because it was only 11€ so I will look forward to playing that after I complete Portal :)</div>
<div style="color: blue;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: blue;">
So I'm in quite a good mood considering I spent the day in bed having nightmares, which is never a good thing. </div>
<div style="color: blue;">
<br /></div>
<span style="color: blue;">Ciao x</span>Kallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06291909440859155511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1215035494049587113.post-75053756723635199432011-10-02T14:54:00.002+01:002011-10-02T14:54:34.019+01:001 Month<div style="color: blue;">
I've been in Spain for a month and a few hours and today I am really feeling homesick and wishing it was December 20th and that I was going home tomorrow. </div>
<div style="color: blue;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: blue;">
I think the main problem is that I keep having interesting dreams that I spend with friends and people I love; but then I wake up to this instead. I'm not saying I don't like it here, because I do and I've made some great friends...but I just wish I knew that I was going home soon. Other people here have people coming to see them and are going home for weekends but I just know I can't and that nobody is coming to see me so it makes it a little upsetting I guess...it would be really cool if my family could come over for the October half term...but I don't see that happening. </div>
<div style="color: blue;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: blue;">
At least I know my friends back home are having a great time - that's important. </div>
<div style="color: blue;">
<br /></div>
<span style="color: blue;">Ciao x</span>Kallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06291909440859155511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1215035494049587113.post-22412761363196810812011-09-23T20:24:00.001+01:002011-09-23T20:24:19.727+01:00Sunburn, fun and friends.<div style="color: blue;">
So, if you've seen my new vlog it will be no surprise to you that I am sunburnt once more though thankfully just on my shoulders and a little on my face. So no harm like the last time!</div>
<div style="color: blue;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: blue;">
My best friend pointed out that I look happy in my latest vlog, and I guess I'd have to say that I am. I was holing myself up in my room beforehand wondering whether I was posting too much on Facebook or Twitter and whether my best friends would become sick of this and not want to know anymore. Nothing on them; just my own paranoia at play. There was also the fact that I didn't want to become closer with the people here because saying goodbye would be so difficult. So, after speaking to a friend here, I was told to just get on with it and involve myself in things and not think about the goodbye until it comes. A good philosophy to have and I took that on board today and did have a lot of fun...but there's no amount of saying that could make me want my best friends here more. </div>
<div style="color: blue;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: blue;">
They complete me and I'm a little lost without them, truth be told. </div>
<div style="color: blue;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: blue;">
Hope they're okay...</div>
<div style="color: blue;">
<br /></div>
<span style="color: blue;">Ciao x</span>Kallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06291909440859155511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1215035494049587113.post-15078128681361684632011-09-19T23:50:00.003+01:002011-09-19T23:50:18.422+01:00No Mug For Me<div style="color: blue;">
I didn't get a mug today after my faculty meeting so I guess the languages people don't like us. I really wanted this mug so I could have a proper cup of tea :(</div>
<div style="color: blue;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: blue;">
Maybe I shall just have to wait and see whether Spain produces me with one. </div>
<div style="color: blue;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: blue;">
Also, really missing my friends today. </div>
<div style="color: blue;">
<br /></div>
<span style="color: blue;">Ciao x</span>Kallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06291909440859155511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1215035494049587113.post-91036896693479945572011-09-19T00:36:00.000+01:002011-09-19T00:36:17.438+01:00The Me InsideTonight I've been having a bit of trouble trying to write a letter to my brother. It's easier said than done. We may have the same mother but we know nothing about each other really and it's causing a lot of issues to come up for me which are very much unresolved.<br />
<br />
I've come across this website; www.themeinside.com which allows adults who'd been affected by adoption to come together and talk to each other about their experiences. It's amazing how even just talking to a few of them, I already feel a little better about my situation.<br />
<br />
Hopefully something good will come of this, and also from me becoming an adoption champion - that I've signed up to be. There are 4000 children in the UK who need to be adopted; and if I can spread the news so just one of them is then that's amazing. Kallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06291909440859155511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1215035494049587113.post-9067591362921110382011-09-06T01:13:00.001+01:002011-09-06T01:13:11.114+01:00<span style="color: blue;">I had an amazing talk with Katherine tonight, that started in French and ended in English after having a very serious conversation. It was beautiful ♥</span>Kallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06291909440859155511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1215035494049587113.post-44757119501456832492011-09-04T23:13:00.000+01:002011-09-04T23:13:54.561+01:00Stronger Than I Thought<div style="color: blue;">
I'm finally talking to one of my best friends and surprisingly it doesn't hurt as much as I thought it would. I expected to be really homesick and missing them both and naturally, being an over sentimental fool as I am, for it to make me cry. It isn't getting to me like I thought it would though. So this is a good step forward. I'm really loving it here, and making some nice friends :)</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XQ25yWXqQ7g/TmPxzSGIt3I/AAAAAAAAAH0/WCorslstqqw/s1600/Wanderments+With+Conny+%252833%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XQ25yWXqQ7g/TmPxzSGIt3I/AAAAAAAAAH0/WCorslstqqw/s320/Wanderments+With+Conny+%252833%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: blue;">Ciao for now! x</span></div>
Kallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06291909440859155511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1215035494049587113.post-39148945914909277032011-09-02T22:30:00.002+01:002011-09-02T22:30:37.645+01:00Letter and Picture<span style="color: blue;">Before I left for Spain on my Year Abroad, I had a letter waiting for me, from my newly found younger brother. It made me smile a lot, and now I know what he looks like. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: blue;">That's all :)</span><br />
<span style="color: blue;">Ciao x</span>Kallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06291909440859155511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1215035494049587113.post-83786273445612917712011-08-26T05:44:00.000+01:002011-08-26T05:44:05.278+01:00Leaving.I've been sorting out this leaving video, and leaving presents for my friends for when I go...but then I stop and think why; because I'm just making things worse here. There's no point in dwelling on the fact that I'm disappearing for a year almost. I'll be back for some things sure enough, but I guess I just better get on with it really. One of my friends tells me that things are changing because people are jealous of the whole year abroad thing. I can't imagine why. Spending that much time away from "family" and friends; seems pretty sucky to me right now. Sure, I'll have a great time and there will be lots of experiences to be had whilst I'm away but then there's the good old factor that I miss out on everything here, and that the people I talk to about these things are all over here, and it will be more expensive to get in touch with them, and I can't just hope on a bus or a train to get to them. I hope tomorrow, well today really, works out as planned and that I don't become stroppy with all the leaving activity, but I guess I can't be certain.<br />
My friend moves out for good on Saturday to go and live with my other friend for 3 weeks before uni starts for them. I hope they manage to have some relaxing times before the stress of uni starts. I already feel bogged down in things, and I'm not even there yet. It will be nice for my best friend to have her best friend back though...they've been apart too long, and they can do all the bonding that I got to do this year. And then we can all be awesome together when I get back next year.<br />
Sleep times for me now. It would be really great if something awesome could happen soon because I've been miserable for too long. I trust that the girls have something amazing planned. They usually do :) <br />
Ciao xKallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06291909440859155511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1215035494049587113.post-25055471251857098882011-08-23T23:42:00.000+01:002011-08-23T23:42:35.745+01:0010 Days To Go...<div style="background-color: white; color: blue;">So I'll get around to writing on here properly sometime soon...for now I will leave you with the fact that I half know what's going on, and half don't. Half wish it wasn't and half wish it was. Mostly; I'm sad to be going but at the same time I cannot wait to get away and immerse myself in what I know best, my languages. This year I really need to buckle down and get on with it, because I have a lot of making up to do in 4th year for my lack of grades this year. It's been a tough year on many counts, and I guess I just didn't work hard enough, or the same way that I used to. I refuse to leave this university with less than a 2:1 though-so I better get cracking. </div><div style="background-color: white; color: blue;"><br />
</div><div style="background-color: white; color: blue;">10 days. </div><span style="background-color: white; color: blue;">Ciao x</span>Kallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06291909440859155511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1215035494049587113.post-72493908522036056372011-08-12T14:19:00.000+01:002011-08-12T14:19:44.161+01:00For several reasons; I cannot wait to get out of this country.<br />
For several reasons; I really don't want to go.<br />
<br />
All these reasons are scrambled up in my head. Most of all...I need to go away so that she can realise what missing someone is...and not having them there 24/7 to do things for you.<br />
<br />
They say absence makes the heart grow fonder...we'll see.<br />
<br />
One thing's for sure...gonna miss my Moomin Mama :'( <br />
<br />
Ciao xKallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06291909440859155511noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1215035494049587113.post-59855543344447792372011-08-08T23:05:00.000+01:002011-08-08T23:05:23.468+01:00What on earth is the future of our country becoming?<br />
<br />
I'm not often this nasty about people, but those thugs should be put down!<br />
I made a video about how I feel. <br />
<br />
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=goXFLJbfabs<br />
<br />
Hope all my family and friends are safe in London over the next few days.<br />
<br />
Ciao xKallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06291909440859155511noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1215035494049587113.post-74872769583491957382011-08-05T23:19:00.002+01:002011-08-05T23:19:55.050+01:00I've just realised that I have 7 blogs; no wonder I don't get around to writing a lot!<br />
Also, it appears that I've become more and more obsessed with reading books this summer, because it's better than life.<br />
Going through some rough things at the moment, but looking forward to seeing my friends soon enough and having a bit of fun, before the realities hit me again.<br />
<br />
Miss those dudes.<br />
<br />
Ciao xKallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06291909440859155511noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1215035494049587113.post-47262595187482197642011-08-01T04:29:00.000+01:002011-08-01T04:29:27.852+01:00<span style="color: blue;">Hey :)</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: blue;">So it's half 4 in the morning and I have to be on a train at 9:22, to be on my way to London. Before getting the train, I have to go to the Post Office and collect a letter from Matthew, because I slept in on Friday...oops</span>. <span style="color: blue;">Not doing much at the moment, apart from uploading the Torchwood Q and A to YouTube, and Buzz just made me an intro for my channel, which was cool of her. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: blue;">Not much else to say, </span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: blue;">Ciao! x </span>Kallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06291909440859155511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1215035494049587113.post-88807965515884455182011-07-23T04:50:00.000+01:002011-07-23T04:50:05.051+01:00Later on today, I will be selling two things that I love - my iPhone and my Pink Laptop, because I'm so out of money it's unbelievable. Because of this, I have to transfer everything, and delete everything on my laptop, which will take a while.<br />
<br />
Then me and Buzz are supposed to be going to a BBQ with another friend, but we have to go without Cazz, which I'm really not happy about, but Buzz has pointed out that this is my only chance to see the person before she goes to Germany to live there for a few months.<br />
<br />
Then, on Sunday, I have to edit my story so that it reads the way I wanted it too, and thought it did. After some feedback from a friend, I have realised it didn't live up to my expectations. I'm glad of the feedback because she answered me honestly with constructive criticism, which was nice.<br />
<br />
On Monday, I'll have to find a solicitor probably. Hmmm.<br />
<br />
Ciao xKallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06291909440859155511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1215035494049587113.post-37443072147371704992011-07-22T23:12:00.000+01:002011-07-22T23:12:42.175+01:00Wonderments<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: blue;">I had a really good and productive day yesterday, writing a story in which my main character, Jessica, finds out she has a brother. Not so far from my own life, I know. I decided, with help from Buzz, that it would be easier to write</span> <span style="color: blue;">my own story through they eyes of someone else. I can agree now that it was a good idea. I've had to change some things of course, so it's not all true. Just based on the true story. I've decided to enter that first chapter into a competition because it can stand alone as a short story. I really want to continue writing it once I find out some more though. I'm hoping I can get a really good story out of it. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: blue;">Today, however, I am not feeling productive nor do I have the inclination to do anything at all. I feel quite sick, and can't even pay attention to Top Gear, which is playing on Buzz's laptop. I know that I'm quite worried about the year abroad, but the amount of worry I'm holding over the whole Matthew situation is not doing me any good at all. I can't help but wonder if he saw the picture and thought, nopes - don't want anything to do with her. Alternatively, it could be the fault of the post. Or he's just busy/scared to write back. I genuinely don't know, and I wish I did. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span><span style="background-color: blue;"></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: blue;">I wish that I wasn't getting so worked up over things lately. Maybe I wouldn't be so worked up if I'd have actually saved my money. =/ Dunno how to survive this coming year. I've had some good chats with friends, but I still don't feel 100% better about anything. At least I know they'll be with my every step of the way, on the Internet at least!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: blue;">Ciao x </span></div>Kallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06291909440859155511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1215035494049587113.post-77188603664155301642011-07-22T01:42:00.000+01:002011-07-22T01:42:06.452+01:00My Original Writing From Year 11 - My GCSE Entry<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:OfficeDocumentSettings> <o:AllowPNG/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves/> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:DoNotPromoteQF/> <w:LidThemeOther>EN-GB</w:LidThemeOther> <w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian> <w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/> <w:EnableOpenTypeKerning/> <w:DontFlipMirrorIndents/> <w:OverrideTableStyleHps/> </w:Compatibility> <m:mathPr> <m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/> <m:brkBin m:val="before"/> <m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/> <m:smallFrac m:val="off"/> <m:dispDef/> <m:lMargin m:val="0"/> <m:rMargin m:val="0"/> <m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/> <m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/> <m:intLim m:val="subSup"/> <m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/> </m:mathPr></w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";">Do you believe in angels? No? Maybe it’s just me then. I didn’t believe in them either. At least, not until the day I lost my faith in God. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Maybe I should explain a little about myself first, before I go plunging into my worries all over again. My parents’ names me Charlotte but my friends call me Charlie. I am currently attending Grange Valley High School and I have an uncomfortably sad life full of sorrow and heartache. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I really don’t mean to worry you and weigh you down with my problems but after all, why would you read if you didn’t care? Although, I must warn you that if you don’t like suffering then this really isn’t the story for you. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Since I was about four years old my Mum and Dad have abused me. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The only dream I can ever remember having is to be able to fit in. I have very few friends but those I have I value completely. Other children’s friends go to our school and they have someone to play with during break. I, on the other hand, have no friends at school. My friends play with me at home, or in the park at the weekend. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Well, I don’t suppose I can put it off any longer really, can I? The reason you’re here. The reason I’m here. Maybe I was destined to tell you all along. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I suppose it all started eight years ago on the 6<sup>th</sup> April 1997, my fourth birthday. It was not a successful day in any way. I had woken up with that strange tingly feeling in the pit of my stomach. You know the one you get before you go on stage? Something was going to happen to me. I didn’t see it coming but it definitely happened and it kept on happening. My Dad hit me with his smooth bare white hand. The same one he had bathed me with the night before. I received no reply as to why he had done it. There was no explanation for my Father hitting his four year old daughter. At that age I could only believe that he hadn’t meant to do it. Just a slip of the hand. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>This was not a one off as I would have myself believe. On evenings when I returned home from school. On special “family” days or whenever the feeling took him, I knew what was going to happen. The cold bare white hand would appear once more and the cold sense of fear would creep into me, causing my heart to fail me. If it wasn’t for my naivety I might have gone crazy. I could not let myself believe that my Father was an abuser. My Mother did nothing to stop it, so I must have been right. It was just another slip. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>You may think I’m crazy. And rightly so. I went on believing the same lie for seven years. It is only recently that I have turned to my friends for help. Yes, I know what you are thinking. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“She has no friends”. </i>At least not material friends, my friends are the angels. They help me on my way every day when I can bear to think no more about my life. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The teachers at school think that I’m an idiot. Oh how could Mary Jane possibly be a bully, she’s so sweet. She’s not sweet to me. All five days of the school week I go in dreading her appearance and come out with some strange feeling of relief. Mary Jane is one of those girls who seems to think she owns the world, with her group of good for nothing friends. They all give me a hard time. They don’t care about me. They like to see me suffer under their sarcastic snide comments. Unlike you. I know you care. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I used to see a counsellor once. Someone I could talk to about my parents, my bullies, and my awful life. This was quite a while ago when I was ten years old. I can remember her very well because she had the voice of an angel. Not slow and hesitant but soft. She talked to me like an equal, I wasn’t beneath her. I told her everything I thought, all my troubles seemed to melt away for those two hours a week. She always said that God would help me when I needed him. If I thought and prayed with all my heard, He would hear me. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Every night when I got home after the hand had hit, I would sit and pray. I told God my innermost thoughts and, if only for a while, this psychological effect worked. At times when I wasn’t with my counsellor, I would go to Him instead to relieve myself of pain and the ache in my heart that grew heavier every day. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But then, one day my world was turned upside down like a tin of toy soldiers emptied all over the floor. He had taker her from me. He, my God had taken the only friend that I had. The only person I could talk to. My counsellor. The doctors said it was cancer that took her, but I knew the truth. My life only meant something when I was with her and now God has snatched her away. No, I’m not crazy. It’s true. From that day on, my God was no longer worthy of my trust or love. He was no longer my God. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>How could someone who had had their heart ripped out go on living? What was the point? I didn’t know. There was no point for my worthless, little life to carry on. To go on pretending my life was fine would have been more painful than Mary Jane and her gang of hounds, feeding off my flesh on a harsh winter’s night. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I think you can guess what I was going to do, can’t you? Well, wouldn’t you? If your parents didn’t care, you had no friends and God had abandoned you. I think you would have thought about it too. No, it’s no use pretending there was another option. There wasn’t. Believe me, I thought over all the possibilities. To leave the world was my only option. The final milestone of my pathetic life. At the age of eleven I was planning my own death. And because of what? A bunch of stupid creatures in my class, added to the fact that God was no longer there for me. My Mum and Dad read the note on the eve of their anniversary. Once again the strange tingly feeling crept up and the hand swept across my face intent on making it a red symbol of rage. I knew then that I could not let anyone get the better of me. I would not give in. Not now. Not ever. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I believed that if there was just someone who could make me feel safe, I would be fine. There was only one person who could do this. But she was gone. Or so I thought. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Now please don’t laugh at me. But she was there with me. I could feel her. She was my guardian angel. I talked to her, she had friends in heaven. Friends that soon became mine too. There were children to play with me and the real parents I longed for but never knew - they were there too. My life was back on track. I had friends and parents, even if incorporeal. They were there. So, in a way I was wrong. God had not left me. He had taken her so I could discover more friends. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>So, I end this story with hope for children like me. It doesn’t matter how tough it gets, someone will always hear you. God is there for you. The angels are there. And I am here for you like you were there for me. Thank you. Life isn’t so bad after all.</span></div>Kallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06291909440859155511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1215035494049587113.post-81996814705887856652011-07-21T20:34:00.000+01:002011-07-21T20:34:41.462+01:00A Song I Wrote When I Was In Year 7<div style="color: blue;">So I let one of my Best Friend's read a song that I wrote in year 7. It is completely cringe worthy and even worse when you read it in the way that she did. So here it is, with no editing whatsoever, and all the nuances of a song:</div><div style="color: blue;"><br />
</div><div style="color: blue; text-align: center;"><u>You'll Never Come To Me</u></div><div style="color: blue; text-align: center;"><u> </u></div><div style="color: blue; text-align: center;">When you look in my eyes you see</div><div style="color: blue; text-align: center;">The fear of insecurity. </div><div style="color: blue; text-align: center;">But when you look to my heart you find, </div><div style="color: blue; text-align: center;">The love and tenderness that's in my life, oho that's in my life.</div><div style="color: blue; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="color: blue; text-align: center;">You ask me what is going on</div><div style="color: blue; text-align: center;">And I tell you I don't know.</div><div style="color: blue; text-align: center;">I expect you to help but</div><div style="color: blue; text-align: center;">You just walk away. Yeah, oh, you just walk away. </div><div style="color: blue; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="color: blue; text-align: center;">Now, tell me why, </div><div style="color: blue; text-align: center;">Why do I have to cry</div><div style="color: blue; text-align: center;">To get your attention</div><div style="color: blue; text-align: center;">To get you to know that I'm here.</div><div style="color: blue; text-align: center;">I'm here with you, </div><div style="color: blue; text-align: center;">Expecting you to come, </div><div style="color: blue; text-align: center;">But knowing that you never will.</div><div style="color: blue; text-align: center;">Knowing that you'll never come to me. </div><div style="color: blue; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="color: blue; text-align: center;">I open my eyes to look</div><div style="color: blue; text-align: center;">At the love that you produce.</div><div style="color: blue; text-align: center;">And everything's alright, </div><div style="color: blue; text-align: center;">Untill I see that you're not here.</div><div style="color: blue; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="color: blue; text-align: center;">I bury my head in my pillow, </div><div style="color: blue; text-align: center;">And the tears come flowing out. </div><div style="color: blue; text-align: center;">I try to block it out, </div><div style="color: blue; text-align: center;">But I know that you'll not come. </div><div style="color: blue; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="color: blue; text-align: center;"></div><div style="color: blue; text-align: center;">Now, tell me why, </div><div style="color: blue; text-align: center;">Why do I have to cry</div><div style="color: blue; text-align: center;">To get your attention</div><div style="color: blue; text-align: center;">To get you to know that I'm here.</div><div style="color: blue; text-align: center;">I'm here with you, </div><div style="color: blue; text-align: center;">Expecting you to come, </div><div style="color: blue; text-align: center;">But knowing that you never will.</div><div style="color: blue; text-align: center;">Knowing that you'll never come to me. </div><div style="color: blue; text-align: center;"></div><div style="color: blue; text-align: center;">You'll never come to me, </div><div style="color: blue; text-align: center;">No matter how I hard I cry. </div><div style="color: blue; text-align: center;">All the love that's in my heart, </div><div style="color: blue; text-align: center;">It's slowly draining out. </div><div style="color: blue; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="color: blue; text-align: center;">No you'll never come, </div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: blue;">You'll never come to me again. </span></div>Kallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06291909440859155511noreply@blogger.com3