A Week In My Life (December 2020)

Since my last week-in-my-life post didn’t include any time ‘at’ university, I thought I’d write another one this semester, one that included uni time and all that that entails.

After three really bad mental health days, I was a bit wary about the week ahead – starting it feeling so depleted. It ended up being a very mixed week, as they’ve all been recently. Maybe it’s an end of term thing: I start off strong but then I hit a wall somewhere in the middle and it doesn’t always take much. I’ve worked hard this semester so hopefully I’ll be able to finish all of my assessment stuff fairly quickly – it’s mostly just polishing now – and get some proper holiday time. Last year, I had to work every day of the Christmas break, only taking Christmas Day off. So some time off would be really nice.

The week in this post began on Monday 30th November and ended on Sunday 6th December 2020.


MONDAY

I slept badly so I took my time getting up and having a shower. I had some breakfast (and ALL of my pills – there’s so many at the moment, what with my normal medication, extra supplements, and some antibiotics) and then I got myself sorted for my session with Richard.

We spent about three hours on the call, working on the production for a new song I’d written, and then just chilling out together, chatting about our uni work, the various projects we’re working on, the tv shows we’re watching, and so on… We’re always texting and we have our Zoom sessions but we haven’t hung out together in months and I really miss that.

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When we finally hung up, I was exhausted and what started as an episode of The Split while I recovered turned into finishing the second series. It was really, really good – even better than the first series. Nicola Walker and Stephen Mangan were particularly fantastic. I love Nicola Walker; she was incredible in Spooks, Scott & Bailey, River, and now in Unforgotten and The Split. Her performances throughout this second series have been breathtaking and the ending had me in floods of tears. She blows me away every time.

I spent what was left of the afternoon and early evening working on my assessment essay. Then Mum and I had dinner together before starting a rewatch of Unforgotten (yes, we’re on a bit of a Nicola Walker kick at the moment), while I did some diary writing. I’m so far behind, what with everything I’ve been dealing with healthwise and doing for uni. My anxiety over it is so high but so is my anxiety over my uni work so the two are constantly pushing against one another. I never have any respite from it and it’s exhausting.

I managed to go to bed reasonably early, which was an achievement, especially since I had to get up early the next morning for uni.


TUESDAY

Again, I slept restlessly but with disturbing dreams that I couldn’t quite remember when I woke up; it just left me feeling kind of uneasy for most of the day, which wasn’t fun. I swear, I’ve had as many nightmares or disturbing dreams since the pandemic began than in my whole life up to that point. It’s horrible; I really feel for anyone who deals with this generally, independent of the pandemic.

I got up, got showered and dressed, had breakfast and pills before logging into my first class of the day. I could only stay an hour of the two (pre-arranged with my tutor) but we spent that hour identifying and discussing different kinds of hooks and how they’re used in songs. Then I had to sign off for a call about my rheumatology referral. It seriously cannot come quickly enough; the pain in my arm, hand, back and legs is only getting worse as time passes.

Before I got down to work, I checked my Spotify stats and saw that the Honest EP has surpassed 30,000 streams. It’s a weird feeling, knowing that so many people have heard these songs. A good feeling, but a weird feeling. I can’t really describe it.

I spent several hours working on my essay, all but finishing the first draft. So that was a good bit of work done – more than I can usually manage between classes. I had some lunch, some time to dedicate to my diary writing, and then I was signing back into class.

The afternoon’s workshop was a productive one. We got through a lot of songs and we had some really good discussions, despite only having an hour. Everyone was really lovely about my song, which meant a lot since it was such a personal one. I also had questions about the grading criteria and learning outcomes because I find the language very unclear and that lead to a good conversation about the assessment as well as inclusivity and accessibility of the course. So it felt like a really positive class, in all sorts of ways.

When my class finished, my Mum and I FaceTimed with my Granny for her birthday and I also got to see my aunt (they’re in a bubble together), which was really lovely. I don’t think I’ve seen either of them in person since Christmas, which has been hard, even knowing that it’s the right, responsible thing to do. It a weird world – a difficult world – when the best way to love someone is to stay away from them.

I also FaceTimed with one of my parents who’d had a particularly rough day. So it was a very social day! It was good to do but I definitely felt drained afterwards.

I was having some downtime, doing some blog writing and watching TV, when another of my other parents called me and told me to change channel to a very cute programme about puppies. It was indeed very cute and it did make me wish for a puppy again, not that we intend to get one in the foreseeable future – we don’t have enough time to properly devote to one so it wouldn’t be fair. But I’m always up for any puppy time I can get.

But the best bit was how one of my cats, Mouse, reacted to it. She was fascinated by the puppies, even patting the screen, trying to touch them. It was utterly adorable. She sat patiently through the advert break and was just as absorbed by the puppies when they returned to the screen. She watched intently for the rest of the programme and then, when the credits rolled, she got up and walked away. It was the funniest thing.

So that was very adorable.

Mum and I had dinner with another few episodes of Unforgotten and I finished my essay. Well, the first draft anyway. It needed a read through and a tidy up before I sent it off but what I’d wanted done for my tutorial session was essentially done. A productive day’s work and in bed before eleven: not bad at all.


WEDNESDAY

So Lockdown 2.0 has ended, not that it felt like much of a lockdown. If you’re going to call it a lockdown, then you have to do what you did in the first lockdown and shut everything down. Otherwise it’s not going to make a difference, people are going to have even less faith in it as a safety measure, and they’ll flaunt the rules because they don’t think it matters. It’s been driving me up the wall. I’m so frustrated: with the government, with the people ignoring the rules (and boasting about it), anyone who is putting casual convenience over the safety of others… Yes, that’s a generalised statement. I’m aware that there are important and necessary reasons to go out but there just seem to be so many people who just don’t care that we’re still in a pandemic and I find that incredibly distressing.

I woke up at eight and intended to get up but then suddenly it was quarter past nine so I must’ve accidentally gone back to sleep. I did manage to get up then and headed straight for my desk to record the vocals for the song I’d been working on with Richard. Even though I love it, for some reason, I find it really hard to motivate myself to start recording so it seems that the easiest way is to just get up and do it before I can get into a procrastinating mindset.

That done, I had breakfast and a shower, leaving me with just enough time to tidy up my essay and send it to my tutor before heading out to have a blood test. I had one a month or so ago and it showed dangerously low Vitamin D levels so I’ve been on a high dose Vitamin D supplement to try and build them up again. This blood test should tell us whether they’ve helped and what the next steps are.

It was almost dark by the time we got home so we settled down in the living room, lit a fire (one of my favourite things about this time of year and about this house – the fireplace) and continued watching Unforgotten. I also kept working on my Lockdown 2.0 blog post. I’d been keeping the list updated throughout the lockdown so it was just a case of tidying it up, adding all the right links, and writing an introduction and conclusion.

I had to stop in the middle to sign in to my tutorial. I had a really good session with my tutor. He was complimentary about what I’d already done and had some really good feedback so I feel pretty good about my next steps. I know what I need to do and now I just need to do it. Then I get one more tutorial before the holidays for any final feedback or guidance. The deadline is in sight, which is more than a bit scary. I just really, really want to do well.

I was exhausted afterwards but I still managed to finish and post the Lockdown 2.0 blog. So I guess it was a pretty productive day.

That done, I had a quick scroll through social media and saw that people had started to post their Spotify stats of the year, both as listeners and as artists. I always find this difficult, regardless of any rational talking to I give myself, regardless of whatever I’ve personally gone through or achieved that year; it just taps into my lifelong insecurity of not doing well enough, not being ‘good enough.’ So it’s not easy. This year should’ve been different, with four of the five tracks from my EP being released since January, but Spotify doesn’t count anything after 31st October and with ‘Honest‘ coming out on 30th October, only one day of its streams were counted. So my most successful song wasn’t a part of my Spotify Wrapped, making it completely inaccurate. So I haven’t shared it – haven’t wanted to – and I feel a little bit robbed of that. I have included the percentage increases here but in reality, they’re a good bit higher since ‘Honest’ did so well.

Hopefully next year, or whenever it is that I release more music, the figures will be more accurate and I’ll feel confident in sharing them. This ‘comparison anxiety,’ as my friend called it, was something I really wanted to work on in therapy this year but even when I’ve felt able to ‘go’ to therapy, it’s been difficult to get much further than damage control around the pandemic. That’s been really difficult – a real frustration – this year. I’ve just felt completely stuck at therapy: while I want to move forward, I’ve only felt able to maintain the fragile balancing act I’ve managed to create. And I haven’t even been able to do that a lot of the time.

Early evening, my Mum and I FaceTimed with my Granny before having fish and chips with one of my other parents. We watched the new episode of His Dark Materials (Series 2 Episode 4) and it was so good. Oh my god, that cliffhanger!

I was just getting ready for bed when I felt the pain in my back. It had been aching all afternoon but that’s not unusual right now but then it started to get worse, sharper and higher. It came on so suddenly that I couldn’t get from the bathroom to the bedroom without Mum’s help and then, when I collapsed on the bed, I couldn’t move because the pain was so bad. It seems to come in waves: there’s the pain and then it surges like a series of electric shocks before finally (FINALLY) receding back to the original pain level. And I never know how long it will go on for; sometimes painkillers seem to make a difference  and sometimes it seems to go on for ages regardless. I’m not entirely sure how long this one went on for but it was at least half an hour. And then it always takes quite a long time for me to get my body to relax afterwards, my muscles having been so tense while the electric shock pain was so bad. So even though I was exhausted, it took me a long time to get comfortable and drift off.


THURSDAY

It took me a long time to get up because I was so stiff and sore. The rheumatology appointment can’t come soon enough. I struggled through breakfast and a shower and then had a Zoom production session with Richard, continuing to work on the song we’d started on the Monday. Considering how out of our normal styles the song was, I think we did a good job, especially for a demo and I’m definitely interested to hear what my class have to say when they hear it.

We also had some chill time, just chatting and hanging out, almost like we would if we were actually together, which was really nice. We’re coping with remote sessions but I cannot wait to hang out again properly, have face-to-face writing sessions, and actually do things together. Or not do things together but do that together in the same room, if you know what I mean.

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When we finished, I did a couple of FaceTime calls with family and then collapsed on the sofa. I was completely exhausted. Me and Mum watched the last episode of Unforgotten Series 3 and oh my god, it gets me every time (if you know, you know – I’m not going to spoil it but the acting is incredible). Nicola Walker does not get the credit she deserves, although from what I’ve read in interviews, she seems to be pretty happy just buckling down on great projects and not doing the whole spotlight thing. (I’m so annoyed with myself that I missed seeing her in The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time – I would love to see her on stage and it’s such a great book.)

Mum and I were having a relatively chilled evening until I asked her about her call with my doctor. There had been multiple things to update her on and ask about but some of the advice she’d given was just really triggering and upsetting. I will talk about it at some point because I think it’s an important thing to have conversations about but it’s not something I’m personally ready to talk about yet. But it really upset me and just killed the warm, cozy mood of the evening.

And then, to make matters worse, Mouse (the cat) brought in a dead mouse, which is something that almost always sets off a meltdown (fortunately Mum understands this and is okay with dealing with it while I do my best to avoid said meltdown). I managed to remove myself quickly enough that I didn’t have one but it was just the final straw on what I could handle that evening so even though it was still quite early, I went to bed. It was all just too much.


FRIDAY

I slept for about twelve hours but I still woke up feeling exhausted, depressed, and miserable. I feel like I spent most of the first lockdown working really hard to get my mental health into some sort of box so I felt like I wasn’t constantly overwhelmed but most days, it still feels like I’m walking on a tightrope and it takes so little to knock me off and back into that suffocating depression. And that’s exactly what the night before did.

I really struggled all day. I just felt completely unmotivated and so, so tired. I was also having to deal with side effects of my antibiotics – they left me with a disgusting taste in my mouth all the time – which was just an extra strain. I only had one day left so I tried to focus on that but it just felt so much harder than it would’ve had I not already been feeling so awful. I did manage to finish and post the blog post about What’s Next for the Honest EP so that was good to do and helpful for my mental state – ticking stuff off my list always gives me at least a bit of a boost.

The good news of the day was that Kalie Shorr had re-released (I guess) her debut album, Open Book (which I wrote about here), but as Open Book: Unabridged, the original album plus four more songs. ‘My Voice’ and ‘Lying To Myself’ had already been released as singles and she’d played ‘Eighteen’ during her livestream concert but ‘Out Of It’ was completely new, which was really cool. They’re all stunning songs and all in their own way. ‘My Voice’ is empowering and unapologetic, as well as a very effective middle finger at the Country labels in Nashville. ‘Lying To Myself’ paints an aching authentic picture of insecurity after a break up with incredible lyrics like, “I picked out all my favourite things you said, then like a delusional architect, I built you up like a house of cards” and “You liked it up on that pedestal ’cause damn, you looked incredible, but coming down’s inevitable.” ‘Eighteen’ is a brutally honest, heartbreaking song about looking back at a relationship that really wasn’t okay, where you were all in but you were only ever treated badly. And ‘Out Of It’ is similar to a previous Kalie song, ‘Awake,’ but this time, she’s saying ‘no’ and isn’t going to get pulled into the bullshit; this time, she’s cutting the cord between herself and the other person. And because I’m a lyric nerd, here is my favourite (or one of my favourites) from each song:

My Voice: “Too rock for country, too country for punk / But who said I had to pick either one / Tattoos at the Opry / I could cover em up but it’s not me”

Lying To Myself: “I’m a little out of touch with reality, it’s never been that nice to me / I like the pictures I paint the best”

Eighteen: “I see you out with younger versions of me / While I’m trying to find who I used to be / I’m terrified that you and I will always be chasing eighteen”

Out Of It: “Your mom and dad put you through hell / You tell your secrets ’til you scare yourself / It’s a big dramatic entrance then you leave / And now I’m the girl I said I’d never be”

Late afternoon saw me dragging myself through some preparation for a mental health assessment that I have coming up, which was another thing I needed to do. But I was so tired that it took forever and I spent a lot of the time it took with my head on my arms, just trying to think. It was just a really bad mental health day. There was no way around it so I just tried to get through it. I was too tired to do anything really but I still tried to write my blog post about the UniversitiesUK Conference. I find it so hard to just do nothing; it causes me a lot of anxiety so even when I’m exhausted, I’m still desperately trying to do something.

By necessity, it was a quiet evening and I went to bed early, all too aware of how soon I had to wake up again to watch Maren Morris’ livestream concert.


SATURDAY

After MANY alarms, I struggled up at 2am to watch Maren Morris’ livestream concert. It felt very strange to not be a part of the crowd, singing (or screaming) along with her but it was so good to see her perform and hear her gorgeous voice again. It was very comforting, like a reminder that some things don’t change. The world might’ve turned upside down but Maren Morris is still Maren Morris, an exceptional songwriter, singer, and performer. So I was really grateful that she and her team put together this show for us.

I didn’t get back to sleep until about five and couldn’t be roused for anything. I eventually woke up at twelve and then I felt so tired and heavy that I could barely get out of bed. I spent several hours unable to do anything but lie on the sofa and watch TV. Disrupting my sleep patterns always throws me for six and with the depressive feelings still very overwhelming, I was really struggling.

Eventually I managed a shower, which completely exhausted me. It also makes me feel sick and dizzy to stand up for the amount of time it takes to sort the shower, have the shower, and then get dried and dressed. One more thing on the list of things being investigated.

Back in the living room, I put on Lucifer and attempted to do something productive. Mostly I ended up jumping between this and my diary, writing a few sentences here and there before switching back, just too tired to think enough to write anything decent. So that was frustrating, plus I had the nerve pain in my leg again – not the electric shock version but the bit that always comes before that (even if it doesn’t turn into said electric shock feeling) where it aches deeper than feels physically possible. So that didn’t help.

Mum and I had an early dinner and then she went for a swim. I really wanted to go and felt like I should – I’d been looking forward to it ever since the pool closed for lockdown – but I just had absolutely no energy. So she went and hopefully I’ll feel able to go next time. I got some good writing done though, so at least the time didn’t go to waste.

Having gotten up so late, I ended up going to bed too late, which was a bit of a pain. My sleep schedule is so easily knocked off course and then so difficult to correct. It was worth it though. Seeing Maren Morris perform is always good for my soul.


SUNDAY

I slept restlessly and struggled up around ten. I still felt incredibly depressed and it took a huge amount of effort to just get out of bed, into the shower, and up into the living room. I had a quiet day, not that that I think I could’ve managed anything else. I managed to finish and post my blog post about speaking at the UniversitiesUK Conference. I also finished all the paperwork for the upcoming mental health assessment and worked on the interview questions my university had sent me about doing the conference (that interview has since been posted). So, considering how awful I felt, I did manage to get something out of the way and check some things off the ongoing list, which – as I think I’ve said – at least helps me to keep my mental state from sinking lower. Having said that, I don’t want to promote the idea that being constantly productive is essential for your mental health; I’ve just found that, if I can tick something off of my to do list, even if it’s something tiny, then that can help me to keep moving forward, help me not to get stuck in my depression. It doesn’t always work; sometimes I just have to surrender to a bad day and hope that the next one will be better. But trying , even if not succeeding, does seem to do something positive.

In the evening, one of my parents came over and the three of us had a chilled evening, eating dinner in front of the fire and continuing our rewatch of Lucifer. It was gentle and undemanding and I did feel better for it. I often simplify my mood into two levels: surface and deep. And in this case, even though my deep mood was still very depressed and twisted up, my surface mood was a bit lighter. Calling it a surface mood doesn’t, to me at least, make it any less important than the deeper mood; it just means that it’s the mood that deals with the day to day stuff while the deeper mood is the one that you carry inside you and the one that sits with all the big, important stuff in your head and in your life. I guess, I see this mood as the one that’s so intricately intertwined with a person’s overall mental health. For example, in the previous few days, I was depressed on both levels (I’m not sure how good a job I’ve done of illustrating that but it’s the truth) but after the Sunday evening, my surface mood started to lift out of that depressed place. My deeper mood was still there though (and still is as I post this). But the lightening of my surface mood did make it a bit easier to face Monday and the coming week.

I tried to go to bed early but as usual, failed. I swear, I’m desperate to sleep all day and then, at about seven o’clock in the evening, my brain snaps on and starts firing wildly, almost too fast for me to keep up with my own thoughts. It’s so frustrating. It’s almost as if my brain has got day and night confused.


So there you have it: another week completely different from the last. I think I’m grateful for that – it must be better than feeling like you’re stuck in a hamster wheel surely – but it’s not without it’s difficulties. When planning is the thing that makes life easier to bear, it can be hard when each new week seems to bring something unexpected.

You guys seem to like these posts so I’ll be sure to do another one soon but probably not until the new year. Touch wood, I can get all of my coursework done in the next ten days and then I can have some time off (although I’m not exactly sure whether it will feel like time off – my brain already has an anxiety fuelled to-do list waiting for me – but I’m going to try my best.) Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading this and I hope to see you in the next post.

Seeking Treatment For Chronic Fatigue – Part 1

As I’ve mentioned before, I’ve struggled with extreme fatigue all my life (I talked about this in my ‘Tired‘ blog post); Myalgic Encephalomyelitis and Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (often referred to collectively as ME/CFS) have been tossed around since I was twelve years old but I wasn’t officially diagnosed until last year. This kind of acute ‘unexplained’ fatigue – unexplained as in there is no obvious cause, such as exercise or lack of sleep – is also a common experience for autistic individuals, as well as related symptoms like headaches and bodily pain.

I’ve been managing these high levels of fatigue for most of my life, trying various things to improve my quality of life. And I continued searching for a cause. I had test after test but nothing ever gave us an explanation. I resisted the ME/CFS diagnosis even as it seemed more and more likely because there’s no cure, not even a reliable method of management, but eventually it seemed the only way to move forward. So, after a long talk with my GP, she officially diagnosed me with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome and we began discussing various options for next steps and support. She referred me to the local Chronic Fatigue Clinic and I anxiously awaited my session.

It was a bitter, heart-wrenching disappointment. I left in tears. Maybe it would’ve been helpful when I first started experiencing these symptoms (I think the longest any of the others there had been struggling was two years) but twelve years in, I knew more than the person delivering the information, had found everything suggested to make no difference or be outright unhelpful, and I just felt so patronised. It was an awful experience and I couldn’t help but feel so angry that this was the best on offer for what I was trying to manage and had been trying to manage alone (in terms of the health system) for more than a decade.

When we spoke to them after said awful session, they referred me to a doctor that we realised I’d previously seen – years and years ago and had a very traumatic experience with. I was obviously very reluctant to go. My Mum and I spent a lot of time talking about it, about the pros and cons of going and not going. The scary thing is that it’s so easy to get kicked off every list with one refusal so I said that I would go, despite having had such a distressing appointment with him – one I’m sure he doesn’t even remember. But before we contacted that clinic, we spoke to my GP again. We explained how upsetting the experience had been and how worried we were that it was only going to be worse this time, considering I would be going in with the baggage of the previous appointment; we told her that I would go if that was how it had to be to continue on this path but she felt that we were right, that it wouldn’t be helpful given the circumstances and as I’d technically already seen him, it wouldn’t cause any problems in the system. We asked if there were any other options and this was when she referred me for the hypermobility assessment (these posts are now out of order, not only because it’s been such a confusing and complicated process, but also because I’ve had trouble keeping things like this clear and ordered in my head since the pandemic started).

I’ve now had this appointment and been diagnosed with hypermobility, which potentially explains (at least in part) my problems with fatigue and pain. (At some point, we’re going to need to lay out all of these diagnoses and work out whether there’s any overlap, whether any of them are now redundant. But that’s a job for another day.) Apparently those with hypermobility are seven times more likely to be autistic, which is a very interesting piece to add to the whole puzzle. The post goes into it in more detail but basically, we’re now waiting to find out whether or not various routes are possible. For example, I’ve been referred for hydrotherapy but we don’t know whether I’ll get it and if I do, when it will be possible with the pandemic and lockdown. That has really stalled things. So it’s one waiting game after another.

But we’re not simply waiting. We – my Mum in particular – are also looking into other angles, other medical professionals who specialise in fatigue or who have studied fatigue in depth. We’ll take any advice we can get. I resisted a diagnosis of CFS for so long because it felt like admitting defeat – an expectation that I would just have to live with it with limited options – but I don’t accept that, not anymore. I’m participating in every research study I can find that I qualify for and my family and I continue to research potential specialists and potential avenues of treatment or even simply more effective management of the symptoms. The pandemic makes it hard but I am not willing to accept that this is going to be my life, that there’s no hope. Not that long ago, NICE (The National Institute for Health and Care Excellence) removed ‘graded exercise therapy’ as a treatment for ME/CFS, after both research and those suffering with the condition proved that it was actually unhelpful at the very least. It’s slow but it’s progress. And I’ll take all the progress I can get.

A Week in My Life (February 2020)

So I thought it might be fun to document a week in my life, both as a person with mental health problems and Autism and as a person doing a Masters in songwriting. So recently, for a week (one of my more interesting weeks), I took notes on each day so this is those days collated, a week in my life right now.


MONDAY

My Monday started at home in Brighton (doing origami for the #30dayfeb) but I was hugely nervous (and excited) because I was playing my university’s songwriters’ circle that evening. And what made it extra special was that it was the LGBTGIA+ History Month Special. I proudly come from a proudly LGBT family and identify as queer myself, although that label is as far as I’ve gotten. When your mental health and Autism take up your whole life, there’s not a lot of time for figuring out your sexuality. I haven’t talked about sexuality on here much because I felt like I needed to know specifically what I identified as (gay, bisexual, pansexual, asexual, etc) before I said anything but now I’m thinking that not knowing yet is also important to talk about. I don’t want to do too much of that here though because I think it deserves its own post.

Anyway, I was nervous but also really excited.

I caught the train to London and the tube to uni where the songwriters’ circle was being held. I met Richard (Richard Marc, my best friend and writing partner) there and we practiced for a bit: we were playing a song we’d never performed before. So we worked that out, ran through it until we were confident with the performance, and then went to get food before going back for our soundcheck. That went well and we met everyone else who was playing; they were all absolutely lovely.

The special guest was an alumni, RIS, described as: “an up-and-coming Sofia-born electropop artist based in East London. The queer singer-songwriter’s brooding vocals bring euphoric melodies to life over dramatic alt-pop tracks, rich with sizzling synths and sonic ear candy.” They were really lovely and I absolutely love their songs: I can’t wait for them to release more.

The other students, Lea Frances, Francesco Pio Ricci, Becky Kerly, and our host tutor, Anjali Perin, were all amazing and interesting and different and it was a really  incredible experience to be a part of. You can actually listen to the whole circle here and hear everyone’s beautiful music and stories. There’s something strangely spiritual about a songwriters’ circle and I hope you can feel that without actually being there. Speaking for myself, it felt magical and exactly how songwriting and songwriters’ circles should feel: a coming together and sharing of stories, of songs, and of souls. And holding it in a music university, getting a sing-a-long isn’t difficult and that’s one of, I think, the most special things you can experience as a songwriter, as a performer. The whole event was so wonderful and I felt so lucky to be a part of it.

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TUESDAY

My lecture didn’t start until eleven so I got a bit of a lie in after the late-ish night and all of the emotion but then I had a bit of a headless chicken morning, running around, back and forth, getting ready and packed up for uni. But I made it on time, a little early even so I got to chat to my friends. It felt like a very weird morning: I just felt super emotional and like crying at every little thing. It was hard work to stay composed.

The lecture covered the grading criteria for the assessment essay, which was really helpful. I find the language really confusing so going through it with a tutor explaining it in detail and in real, human language made is much more accessible and easier to understand.

But the main part of the lecture focussed on Max Martin – we cover one songwriter a week and look at techniques they use and so on. It’s really interesting, especially because they’re all really different. So, for Max Martin, we focussed most on melody, syllable count, and melodic math: a device used to make melodies really tight and memorable. It was fascinating, especially to someone who puts lyrics before melody. I don’t know if I could ever do it consistently because lyrics are so important to me but it’s definitely something I’d be up for trying out, just to see what the result sounded like.

Then I have a four hour break before the next class but I spent some of it hanging out with my friends, an hour at a meeting about the upcoming Nashville trip, and then two hours writing with one of my best friends on the course, Luce, while our other friend, Sharné sat in the room with us and worked on some of her own work. We worked on a song for a couple of hours, getting quite methodical and looking at the deeper message of the song and so on but I don’t think either of us were in quite the right frame of mind to write so the three of us just ended up talking. They’re such lovely people that talking with them, whether it’s about random stuff or intense, emotional stuff, the conversations mean a lot to me.

The second and final class of the day was the workshop, where we play songs we’ve written based on the previous week’s artist’s techniques. A lot of people don’t turn up, presumably because it’s not assessed and they need the time for other things, so it was just me, Luce, and Sharné, which was actually really nice. There was a lot of time for feedback and I really enjoyed working on their songs and my song more intensely than we would usually have time for. They had both written great songs, both of which I really loved.

My only complaint about the classes is how cold the classrooms are. They’re absolutely freezing, so cold that we’re wearing our coats, scarves, and gloves in class. The air conditioning is on even in December and January. We’ve asked them to turn it off but there’s been no change. Especially on a day when I was very emotional, being so cold just made me want to cry.

Fortunately, my Mum was working in London and the end of our days coincided so she picked me up and we drove home together, catching up about our days. We got home and I was so exhausted that I went straight to bed. It had been a long and emotional couple of days.


WEDNESDAY

After my busy Tuesdays (and this busy Monday), I take Wednesday as a rest day. And I tend to work on at least one weekend day. I might technically be doing my course part time but I have to be very flexible about the way I work because of Autism and mental health problems cropping up and making work difficult. I can’t write a song or research an essay if I’m recovering from a meltdown for example. It sucks, because it means I have to plan my life very carefully to allow for these problems but also be very flexible in case they do. It’s so frustrating. I hate it.

I did my origami and then spent the day bouncing between writing my diary and the continuation of moving my songs all into one notebook. They were very calming tasks. I tried to work on a song but just couldn’t make my brain work (I think I was too tired) and then, when I gave up, I lay down on the sofa and accidentally had a three hour nap.

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All of the cats!

I finished the day having dinner and watching Law and Order: Special Victims Unit with my Mum (it’s the show that just the two of us in the family watch). It was very relaxed and really nice to spend some time with her.

I had had serious anxiety about the work I have to do all day but had been managing it with Diazepam. It’s something I deliberately try not to think about on rest days because they’re my weekend where I have fun or recharge. I’ll spend the other days of the week working on those things but rest days are for resting. It’s still hard to shut off that anxiety though, even with the Diazepam.


THURSDAY

As had become my pattern, I started my day with my piece of origami for #30dayfeb. On this day, it was another bird. I did a lot of birds. They were pretty and not too challenging (I wanted challenging but some of the origami tutorials I watched were virtually impossible for a beginner like me).

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Most of my morning involved going to therapy. It ended up being a very intense, upsetting session – therapy can be a bit of a funny paradox because if you leave feeling exhausted and drained, chances are you’ve worked really hard and done some important work; you’ve just got to look after yourself afterwards. We were talking mainly about a difficult relationship in my life and how to handle it as well as my OCD and how it’s affecting my Masters work. Trying to control it enough to get the work done is gruelling and exhausting and sometimes it feels just too hard. It spiralled into harder and harder stuff and I ended up in tears. Getting myself together to leave was a struggle. And then, to make things worse, the cab I needed to get home didn’t turn up and I was left waiting in the rain for half an hour, until my therapist came to check on me. She lent me her phone and I called another one.

I eventually got home and called my Mum at work, sobbing down the phone because it had been just too much after a difficult session. Plus changes in plans really throw me. Talking to her managed to calm me down a bit and I felt a bit better when we hung up. I was tired enough to sleep but my brain was whirring too fast so I was still awake but groggy when Mum got home.

We had some dinner (and some red bull) and caught the train to London. We were going to see Waitress again, mainly so that I could try and meet Sara Bareilles after the show. She’s had such an impact on my life that I just really, really want to meet her and thank her. And getting to see the show again isn’t exactly a hardship. I love the music, the cast is fantastic, and the story always inspires me; it makes me feel like I might end up happy, even if it’s not in the way I expect or currently want it to. That’s big for me. And Sara is just amazing. She just is Jenna. She’s plays the part like it was written for her and she sings like Jenna is a part of her. ‘She Used To Be Mine’ is one of my favourite songs ever and there’s something magical about hearing her sing it live. This show is so important to me and it always will be.

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Sara’s bow!

We rushed outside to see if I could meet her and we met some of the other cast who kindly chatted with us and signed my ticket but Sara herself didn’t appear. After a while, the security guard said she’d left but I was reluctant to just go, having been told the same thing in the past and gone home only to see people posting selfies with her on Instagram. But this security guard had been really nice to us earlier in the night – so I felt I could trust him and his explanation – and he told us that she had an early engagement the next day and so she’d had to leave straight away (as it turns out she was on This Morning the next morning so it was entirely true). So we went home. We have one more opportunity to meet her before her run ends so hopefully I’ll get to meet her then. I know a lot of people don’t get my dedication to seeing shows more than once (I often get overwhelmed mid show and so seeing them multiple times allows me to get the full experience – and why would you not want to see a show you love more than once, especially if it’s only on for a limited time?) and meeting the artists but they’ve really shaped my life and therefore become part of my life so it feels important to connect, even if in the tiniest way.

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Marisha Wallace (who plays Becky – she has an incredible voice and is utterly hilarious) signing my ticket.

We caught the train home and fortunately got back not too late, considering we’d waited afterwards (I appreciate that they hadn’t just left us waiting in the cold). I went straight to bed and was asleep in seconds.


FRIDAY

I did my origami (an apple) and then spent the morning doing some reading for my Masters, working on my songwriting book when I needed a break. It was very gentle and chilled after the emotional day and late night from the day before – the perfect antidote.

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Lucy keeping me company.

I had a late shower but ended up sitting on the bathmat, sobbing because there’s just so much sadness in me. There’s so much sadness, past and present, happening in the world and to the people I love. It overwhelmed me and I just got so upset. It happens sometimes, quite a lot in fact. I’m an emotional person but I’ve been particularly emotional recently.

In the afternoon, I had an appointment with the doctor. Mum always comes with me to these appointments, especially with doctors I’m not familiar with (the Autism specialist doctor has been away), in case I get overwhelmed and because she knows my mental health and Autism history really well, sometimes better than me. We talked to the doctor about the pain I’ve been having from my fingers to my shoulders (I was, at that moment, having some really bad pain in my hands and left shoulder), which is obviously cause for concern. We talked about support for people with Autism, which there still seems to be a distinct lack of, plus several other things. I found it very unhelpful and distressing but Mum seems to think that the information we got, good and bad, means movement – in her plans and research, I suppose. So I guess that’s something.

To cheer me up, we went home via the nearby pet shop. We need to replace the cat tree/scratcher so we went to look at the ones they had and there were some possibilities but we need to do some measuring before we commit and buy one. But we did buy a couple of little cat toys, mainly to make me happy: a little unicorn and a little Grumpy Cat (we try to avoid buying toys that look like real animals so that they don’t give us a huge shock, thinking the cats have brought in a mouse or something). They’re really cute.

The unicorn toy and the Grumpy Cat toy.

Then we came home and had a gentle evening. I did some reading for my essay and then me and Mum had dinner in front of SVU. When I finished eating, I did some diary writing. It was an attempt at calm but I was still very anxious, even taking Diazepam. I’d intended to go to a friend’s gig in London but I just had too much pain in my hands, arm, and shoulder that I just couldn’t do it. I felt so bad because it’s been so long since I’ve been to one of her shows and I felt like a bad friend for ‘not supporting her.’ I could’ve managed the show but the travel just made it too much. I felt really guilty for not going, something I struggle with a lot – guilt, that is. So it was a difficult evening.


SATURDAY

I spent most of Saturday songwriting (after doing my origami). I tried to write both with a pen and on a computer – diary, blog writing, or research – but my hands felt thick and stupid (which we think was a side effect of a medication I’ve now stopped taking since it wasn’t helping and there were too many side effects – none of them serious but all of them unpleasant and unhelpful) so it was a real struggle. Playing piano was really the only thing that wasn’t difficult in that sense and so I spent a lot of the day playing, writing, and editing songs, several of which I really like.

I also put up my blog post about Lucky, which I’m really proud of.

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Me and Lucky on Christmas Day with his new toy.

Me and Mum spent some time in the afternoon and early evening talking about a presentation I have coming up, talking rather than writing since my hands were still struggling. Then we had dinner and watched some TV together. I ended up falling asleep on the sofa at seven because I was so exhausted by everything going on and Mum had to all but drag me off the sofa and steer me to bed.


SUNDAY

I woke up stupidly early (at half past four) and couldn’t go back to sleep as hard as I tried. Eventually I got up and moved to the living room, putting the TV on low and getting to work: sending emails, social media messages, and so on. I’m better in the mornings, more awake and less anxious, so those things feel easier.  I organised my diary and did some blog writing. It was a productive start to the day, despite the painfully early start.

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Mouse keeping me company while I worked.

Once Mum was up and we’d had breakfast, we did some house jobs (such as fitting the new cat flap) and I talked to a friend who was very upset before getting down to work on my presentation. I’d been talking to various people since it was set as an assignment so I felt prepared when I sat down to make the presentation slides. I spent the day working on the slides and beginning a script for what I was going to say.

In the evening, I ran it past Mum (who does a lot of presenting as part of her job) and she critiqued it for me. Then one of my other parents came over and we had dinner in front of Tim Minchin’s Orchestra Tour DVD. He’s truly an incredible musician and performer.

It was a productive day and I went to bed as late as I could manage – about ten o’clock – and took a sleeping pill to make sure I got a good night’s sleep.


I hope that was interesting, that it gave you a glimpse into my life. Let me know if you want more of these because it was definitely interesting to write.