Cloudy Thoughts

What follows is a very confused version of an email I sent my therapist, with names and places redacted to protect the innocent and the guilty. This blog has been, over the past two years, somewhere I can share my innermost thoughts without worry, judgement or blame. I know that I am very sensitive to the topic of abuse, especially child abuse. It’s the hardest thing for me to talk about, or to think about because bpd and ptsd are painfully good at making me an emotional whirlwind. Over the last couple of weeks my emotions have flip flopped every hour, I actually don’t know how I feel so this safe space should help me figure some things out. No one likes to talk about the bad stuff in life, why would they, but humans are not machines and our ability to feel sets us apart. This is going to be a long arse post, so be prepared for that or go read a buzzfeed article. Why no one can read long form anymore eludes me, but that’s all for another post. Ok so what follows isn’t pretty: definite trigger warning attached and if you’re feeling low go read something else. If my friends are reading this I’m sorry I couldn’t talk to you, putting aside legal stuff it’s disgusting to have to admit happened. 

I wish I was writing to you with better news. Around two weeks ago B and I discovered that a family member had been arrested, charged and awaiting sentence for possessing child porn- the ages of which were anything under 13. Obviously, this has brought
up some very strong feelings for me. He was sentenced yesterday. But it was  very light, no prison just rehabilitation. While my adult self is happy and relieved my child self is very confused, upset and dare I say it annoyed. There are many mitigating factor’s
in his case and I’ve read the psychiatric reports. X is very, very sorry and we believe truly understands what he did was wrong. The situation obviously draws parelells with my experiences, something I shared with him and B’s work on child protection.

I thought I could deal with the stress alone, but it turns out it’s a massive trigger and some PTSD didn’t help either. I had hoped I would never have to deal with this subject again. In any form. It also puts me off trying to get any form of justice
re P because sentences are so fucking light. I feel like thousands of childen’s lives are destroyed and no one really cares. There’s just a bunch of endless excuses to avoid prison overcrowding. I also feel like his family are so relieved that he’s free to go that they are overlooking
the hideosuness of the crime. My experiences have taught me that you can never really escape your past, and that his mother especially views her son as being ‘better’ now. X has not told his fiance about any of this, which has
annoyed me massively as I take my vows very seriously. She’s very fragile; a lot of mistakes have been made over the past two years and X has received some bad advice. 
X had been diagnosed with a mental health issue, signed the SOR and is having mandatory therapy sessions. He has had his most private interest publicly paraded and has suffered two years of court appearences. It hasn’t been easy for him to keep this awful secret and in some ways having a criminal record is punishment enough. He will never work with kids, certain countries won’t let him visit and it will always taint him. It’s painful for me too, because I knew how toxic the home atmosphere was when X was a child, one of his mitagating factors was he started to doing this to escape his parents disgustingly disturbing arguments. I told B something would go horribly wrong then- kids need love, support and attention and they had none of those things. The parents were wrapped up in themselves and their own sordid, tawdry love lives yet no one could predict
this. My thoughts are very cloudy, I feel vunerable, angry, dissapointed, betrayed and just so confused about how to process all this. I can’t believe it’s even happened and I am at a loss of how to come to terms with it and move forward.

My child self is all over the place and I really need some advice. We’re away at the moment and I’ve taken some time  out to myself just to breathe and reflect, I need to put my emotions in order. 

I don’t know how someone could do this. Young children are not sexual objects and the idea he masturabated to images of them makes me feel sick. For years he thought it was a victimless crime! Hell if you’re stressed read a book, watch a movie, go hikint don’t search the dark web for instructions on how to sexually abuse innocent kids. The manual came with a bundle of images he clicked on twice, viewed for seconds then exited but still!! The judge knows that X started looking at these pictures when he was 13, up untill 2o. That’s a fuck ton of kids being abused. I feel like B’s family are baive and have made a lot of mistakes. However, they do at least love and suport their kids. You have to move forward because feeling sad and low all the time drains you of happiness. I’m and adult not a child and I can make a difference. They are not my children, they are not my responsibility. I need to do what’s right for me and keep moving forward. I do not believe his sentence was correct. However, he is ill and needs to be treated as such. Child abuse is fast becoming a global crisis and I would like to help end that. Sex is for two consenting aduts and everyone should remember child porn doesn’t exist it’s just abuse. I have no idea regarding P. Sometimes I think the only ones who really suffer are the kids. And now I feel like I have to apologise for how I’m feeling because only a bad person would want to see someone go to jail, albeit only for a short amount of time. I need to remember these things aren’t interlinked:

G who I forgave for objectively much worse because I didn’t want to lose my family. I didnt want to be blamed, I didn’t want to become a statistic of drug overdose, prostitution or alchohol dependancy I wanted to live. I couldn’t forget but time healed some wounds and therapy the others. Accepting X never touched a child, he only abused through viewing is important

P G and X are’nt the same person. There is no  of black and white just endless shades of grey. I am a survivor an being able to forgive but not forget is how I will deal with this. I shall never trust him with my own children and I find his actions abhorrent. I do not condone any form of abuse but for my own mental health I need to hold into the positives.

It is those big fish who produce, make and share peadophillic images that need catching. I want to help do that somehow. 

G turned his life around. He expressed serious remorse. Never hurt another child. Actually hates kids. I gave us both the chance to live, love and be free. 

X never touched a child, pled guilty admitted responsibility and behaved with dignity. He was young and very confused. Lacking love and attnetion he turned to something he thought could help. Instead the addiction claimed him for it’s own. He has expressed remorse. And now faces losing the woman he loves.

Teens look and possess the confidence of adults. None of us are 100% to blame. The lines have become ever more blurred.

P. Nope still hate him. 

It’s Been A While

Hello. I’m fairly sure no one reads this blog anymore as it’s now updated infrequently at best. The thing is since I got a new job, I spend five days a week writing and often I can’t be bothered to write anymore after that. In fact, the only reason why I’m writing now is that it’s Friday so I know I’ve got 2.5 days to do my own stuff. Don’t get me wrong I love my job, client copywriting is very interesting and I get a lot of autonomy in what I write about so I’m creative every day, still it’s difficult knowing you’re tied to a deadline, aren’t we all, and don’t have the freedom to just say no lol. It’s also pretty demanding having to think of relevant, user friendly creative content each day but luckily I’m pretty good at my job. It’s been, gosh almost six months since I got married and not much has changed on that score. I’m hoping to do some creative stuff soon, plus getting into some mental health based stuff considering I left therapy in the summer. It’s not that I don’t get sad, angry or frustrated I can just separate what’s me and what’s a BPD thing much better. Sadly, we did lose one of our beloved guinea pigs but we are starting to come to terms with her loss, life just goes by so quickly like sand slipping through your fingers. I’m looking forward to going back to the states later this year and finding out what else life has in store for me! Some of my friends read my blog much more than others so if you’re still checking in, Hiya!!!! I know I’m not great at keeping in touch and I will try to do better in the future. 

Something did happen recently, something that if I’m honest has affected me much more than I think I realised but I’m putting a brace face on it all. I can’t talk about in much detail or at least not until after next week so instead of talking about the person it concerns I’ll talking about my feelings. I’m hurt, betrayed, embarrassed and ashamed as well being aware that it cuts too close to home. I only have to close my eyes and play some triggering music to take me back there, to those feelings of hopelessness where everything seemed like it would never get better so I stopped trying. I know how it feels to be scared, worried, confused, alone and broken to feel pieces of your soul die one by one until you wish you could lay down to sleep and not wake up. It changes you, shapes you who are and even though I’ll never know you, I’ve never met you I want to apologise on the behalf of others who were too weak, stupid and gutless to know any better. No matter how bleak things seem now they will get better, you will find your voice and you will smile again I promise. I may be a wife but I’m still myself and I’m normally a kind, open and forgiving person. There has only ever really been one name on my hit list for all intents and purposes. Now there are two and I can’t promise that I’ll ever be able to forgive this behaviour. How do I play nice knowing what’s happened, knowing who you really are? I cannot help my opinion more than you can help yourself  and I may yet be forced to swallow my feelings for the sake of peace and quiet. 

There’s someone out there, I can’t be more specific right now,  maybe ever but she’s going to need all the love in world in the days to come and so I offer her my strength, fortitude and the ability to confront the monster beneath the bed. It won’t be today, it won’t be tomorrow and it might not be for a very long time but one day you will reach the other side. No matter how badly the soul is mutilated with love, care and attention it can be healed. I don’t often pray but I would ask god, or the divine will of the universe to watch over her. One day I may remember the other deserves sympathy but right now that’s in short supply. I’m sorry it sounds knotty but it’s how it has to be. There may be no one left to read this cryptic message and there may be no chance of blood on my hands but still better safe than sorry.

I will never understand what you did. I never have. I never could. 

Men are easily corrupted. 

The thorny issue of clubbing, commitment and me 

I’m probably writing this post mostly for myself, to help me figure some stuff out but it could be interesting for others to read. I recently got married, duh, and everything has been lovely, like really being a wife means absolutely everything to me. Tonight I’m maybe going to go out with some friends, husband is fine with it and that’s not the issue. The thing is clubbing, at uni clubbing was great and I fucking loved it some of those memories will stay with me forever. However, I’m now 27 with a career, home, husband and responsibilities  and I’m not sure clubbing is my thing anymore. I mean that’s fine I still love going to bars, restaurants, events etc just not so hot on nightclubs. I was last in one on my hen do, epic night, and it was great but I felt at little awkward there. I love to dance, but I don’t love the attention my mates get from cheeseballs especially if they’re in relationships and ok I might have been a little jealous no one was giving me any attention but then again, massive bride to be veil on my  head! 
I know I’m not 22 anymore , thank fuck, the only person I need to be desirable to is my husband but I still like to look good you know. I just feel like clubs are for singles mostly, to flirt and dance and drink free of any consequences, I did my time on various dancefloors and now things are different. I’m not saying I wouldn’t go out for a special girls night, or for someone’s birthday or hen do I’m just saying maybe I’m kind of done. It’s another time and place, I can’t bring over the people I would want there ( I wish I could) and I’m not sure I want to have that kind of fun without my husband anyway. Another thing, and I know I’m going to sound holier than thou but I’m just trying to get my thoughts down, is that I’m annoyed at my friend. I don’t want alcohol to bring up unpleasant topics, listening to her talk about her boyfriend makes me want to shoot myself and I don’t want to hurt her feelings. I personally believe her relationship is unhealthy, her boyfriends a dick and I wish she’d dump him to the point where I’m losing respect for her cause she’s letting him walk all over her.

 I get it love is blind. Oh boy do I get it after all I was the same way once but I can see all the red flags as clear as day, and she deserves so much better. I can’t guarantee that after a few vodka and cokes I could keep my mouth shut, especially if she was sending pictures or chatting to him. It’s like don’t compare a 2 month fling  with an ex to my four year rollercoaster- don’t even think that comes close to the pain I experienced. So maybe it’s half that it feels innpropriate I mean what newlywed goes out dancing without her guy? Mixed with that I’m so infuriated with this friend with a tiny bit of body insecurity thrown in, I don’t  look how I did in my 20’s that’s for sure but maybe that’s all ok because I am happy,I’m just doing marriage with training wheels right now. 

Please forgive spelling and grammar it was the thoughts that mattered not the prose. 

Day One

I recently visited the United States for the first time.

It’s not as innocent as described in the books I read as a child,

all block parties, babysitting phone trees and whitewashed high schools.

Nor is it as brash as what you might see in a summer blockbuster 

it is still a young country,

cutting her baby teeth on democracy, economy and social policy

while citizens proudly talk of buildings over a hundred years old.

It’s the child in a global nursery who paints while others glue 

creating vibrant communities and inspiring new beginnings,

bringing together those who still believe in the American dream.

From the inexplicably difficult landing instructions,

The no nonsense nods of TSA and border security 

to the sense of relief as you finally walk over an invisible line. 

A place of cheery smiles, kind doormen and unlimited refills,

Wide open interstates that criss cross the entire country 

As well as amazing local dishes that make your mouth water. 

Not forgetting the sheer giddiness, child like enthusiasm,

and the undeniable sense of freedom to be found at a Sunday afternoon football game. 
This is Day One.

Now senseless acts of violence, cruelty and race hate follow a brutal Presidential election.

People are being targeted openly for the colour of their skin.

In a country where the suffering of slaves built both buildings of peace and power,

So that the ignorant and the unrepentant can parrot hateful phrases,

While those Americans who voted differently bow their heads, praying for better days and an administrative miracle. 

Students ostracised for practicing ancient religions, chosen freely and clothed in the garb of sacred personal value.

Scrawled slogans condemning a loving, caring marriage and the hopes that it will be overturned.

How to explain to someone that humans very rarely choose who we fall in love with

what to tell a child who leaves school with a note in her bag that reads ‘go home’? 

Where to go for help when the police agree with the ‘witnesses’ of the man who attacked you? 

Today complete strangers will hug each other against baying bigots.

Some have heard sexist diatribes, racist cat calls and xenophobic chants.

Others will have to find the courage to step out their own front door tomorrow into uncertainty.

A few will fight back amid organised protests, social media sound bites and sombre press releases. 

The rest will turn a blind eye and stare blankly into reality TV oblivion.

God Bless America. 


This is where love has always lived.
Inside glowing memories, endless laughter and warm embraces,
like a tortoiseshell cat curling onto velvet cushions, purring with joy.
She watched through half closed eyes,
While we stepped through holy wooden doors into dreams.
For I’m giving you all the very best of my days,
Framed by ivory silk and twinkling candles
as I began the longest, most uplifting walk of my life.
Here relatives dressed in their Sunday best greet each other,
Words spilling like sparkling champagne as they chat eagerly.
Reminiscing over past reunions, swapping harmless gossip-
Before gazing in wonder over at adults that once were small children.
Dancing girls clad in the turquoise waves of the Caribbean.
Taking endless selfies as they wrap tanned limbs around each other,
Echoing a thousand different friendships
But this time the lens loved them all the more.
For that day love made women beam brighter than sunlight. 
These were the ones I chose to stand with me as I became a wife.
Friends sharing stories of new beginnings, careers and homes, 
Before falling gently into the soft blanket of student yesterdays.
As people from different paths merrily introduced themselves.
This was the day I vowed to put my husband before myself,
The moment when family and friends were invited into our hidden world
To watch glittering stars shine down on A quirky boy and girl. 
After all what’s in a name? 
Only the feeling of belonging to a family so unique-
We each have secret identities!
To be the daughter of beloved parents, not to mention the sister of a maverick.
Where I was taught to bend not break when life sends hurricanes into your heart.
And when all is over, said and done.
Grains of sand emptied out into cold winds from unpacked cases.
The perfect princess dress folded away in reverent ceremony. 
Bouquets of hand tied stems undressed as one by one the petals fall,
Yet their pastel magic remains undimmed.
Bound forever between the pages of a life led together
this is where love has always lived,
And the softest of smiles say more than any speech ever could.


Has Anyone Got a Snowglobe?

The following post is, at best, confusing and at worst, utterly insane, but I need somewhere to write down my thoughts. I’m getting married and I’m scared. I’m not scared of the person I’m marrying, just scared if it’ll all go right and what it’ll be like afterwards. I’ve been one person all my life and now, in the blink of an eye, I’ll have a different name, a different identity. Yes, I get to start again but that in itself is terrifying. Who is this woman? Does she deal better with conflict than I do? Is she less / more artistic than me and is she happy living a perfectly ordinary life?

I know that I sound really ungrateful, here is somebody who loves me to death and is willing to say it in front of the entire world, well family and friends and here I am at almost five weeks out having a little panic. I think it’s just a case of what could go wrong? Almost half of marriages fail and I don’t want to be one of those people. Can I really start again? Am I allowed to be this happy? It’s not like I was single recently and I haven’t been in almost nine years, when I was in Holland clubbing I got lonely because guys don’t look at me the way they used to, I know I shouldn’t want them to but every girl likes to be thought of as beautiful, ring on her finger or not.

I feel like there is still a lot to do wedding wise and I’m beginning to worry we’ll run out of time. I want my life back, I don’t want to spend hours discussing canapes, flowers, colours, order of service and whatnot I just want to do the things I want to do. There’s another thing bothering me and I know if C is reading this, and she will be, you’ll want to smack me with a wet salmon so sorry in advance. I really wanted to spend some time with K and I was trying to figure out why.

Because, apart from at the beginning, I haven’t really thought about him too much over the last few months. Then I realised he represents feelings from a time when I was free to do what I liked, not necessarily a good time but still a time nonetheless. I didn’t get the happy ever after with P, to the point where he isn’t even invited to my wedding. All the dreams and plans I made for us died in the fire long ago so with K it’s like I’m giving a weird present to myself? He’s the last person that I really connected to, and what if Mrs………. doesn’t feel the same way, it’s old fashioned but a married woman being so close to a single guy is that even ok? I won’t know until I say my vows and whatnot and again it’s the fear of the unknown. I guess I just miss the way we are, and the empty K-shaped space in my life and yeah it hurts.

It breaks my heart thinking that I’d regret not spending quality time with him before this whole thing kicks off, and I’m embarrassed that he still matters to me so much- of course now my insecure side says, well it’s not like he cares that much anyway- oh fuck off. We parted ways on a cold, wet January evening, saying we would see each other soon and the next time he sees me is walking down the aisle? That doesn’t sit well with me at all. I want a chance to have fun, go out, maybe have a few drinks and just be myself without worrying about wedding stuff. I want to have those moments and if truth be told I miss my friend, It’ll be a bit of a shock to his system seeing me in full Bride mode before we can even hug hello!

I want some time inside the snowglobe.


Two Halves Of An Orange

I am two halves of the same sweet, spherical orange

But grown on two trees thousands of miles apart

I seek safety and security at the same as creative chaos.

Writing words in the sand only for the sea to wash them away

Visualising beams of golden light that trail far across

Velvet skies spangled with more stars than Hollywood.


I stand behind the scenes because I want to see how the story ends.

Capturing the innocent moments that everyone else seems to forget

Awakening at dawn to savour the promise of a new day-

While, at the same time, at home amongst a kaleidoscope of neon lights

Didn’t your mother tell you that cities breathe the same way as people?

Slowly. In.Out. And repeat.


Then who is this imposter who is so happy to be  merely ordinary

Living a quiet life scattered with rainbows and sunshine,

And the blissful certainty of a white picket fence.

The predictability of the school run, PTA meetings, Sunday dinners

And the quiet knowledge that she is loved completely.

Who counts the days with an excitement previously unknown

As if every fibre of her being is just waiting to be born again.


The juice is the same no matter which side you squeeze it from

Dreams, fears, hopes and tears melt together in the emotional slush pile.

Blocking out the negative thoughts, half-baked lines like unrisen bread

What if I belong in an artist’s loft in New York Or a writing retreat in the wilds of Scotland?

There are no instructions for a happy marriage

We’ll have to feel our way towards the truth, burrowing moles deep underground

I want to stop the world from turning so I can be a child again-

Staring up through thick curtains and watching endless snowflakes fall to earth.


What if it’s all just a massive mistake? What if it’s not?

I’ll carry the movie reel of memories of us forever.

But I can’t build a life on snatched moments and unshared ideas

Love grows in so many places but you just have to give it time

Brown soil gives way to green shoots and cream petals,

And eventually white roots are reclaimed by the earth

Soaking up all the untainted goodness that lies inside our hearts.










What I want to say

I’m not clever I just give more of a shit than you seem to.

I miss you and I very badly want you to visit before the curtain rises.

But  because I have no expectations  I won’t ask it has to come from you.

It’s been so long. 

I want to be wrong. Oh god how I want to be wrong.

See I asked to come to you but you said otherwise.

If you don’t it’ll break my heart.

I just want to see your face again, really, properly.

With  no flashing lights or neon screens.

I just want to tell you- 

It’s like Dale and Audrey. Not together

But still connected in some other way.

I’m not about to confess a precious secret

The way floppy haired heroes do in chick flicks.

But nonetheless I’ll admit without shame nor sorrow.

I maybe love you

Like the rest, my soul stars.

My neon markers on life’s dark path

I maybe love you-

Just a little.


Last night, for the second time, I dreamt that I visited you.

It was just before Christmas and the streets were lit with gold.

We walked through the woods together,

The trees were our friends, hiding both our glowing smiles

While the ground crunched underfoot in silver moonlight.

Stopping to take pictures at the winter wonderland,

Drinking shots of red and green vodka with abandon

The house was different and yet still the same.

Dressed in soft cream shades and  pale blue roses,

everywhere you looked there were shining surfaces

And mysterious cakes stood atop  silver plinths.

She was there waiting as if to congratulate us on our meeting.

I had seen her from the train and waved but she missed it

Pale ice nymphs greeted us and proclaimed their allegiance,

But this time, I knew that it was all a lie.

I still remember how your body warmed mine

The bitterness of being apart almost worth the sweetness of reunion,

Lights flashed, tape whirred and we were recorded forever.

As one after another,

like fireworks exploding across a midnight sky-

Wishes came true thick and fast

Bought with childlike wonder and the hopes of one more dance.

The distance between us  didn’t matter at all

Despite strange dreams and scattered promises,

We were both together to watch the first snowfall.