A Week In My Life (September 2023)

Somehow, getting a puppy has made my life both more and less busy. I’m constantly on the move – following her around, chasing her, playing with her – but my life is quieter – she’s so young and still getting settled so I don’t want to leave her – so I may have found a somewhat unusual way of doing less, out in the world at least. Having her around means that my day-to-day life ricochets from full on and exhausting to quiet and chilled out. It’s been a bit of an adjustment but I think it has given me a chance to recoup a bit. A bit. I’m still trying to get a lot done – I don’t think my relationship with productivity is particularly healthy – but Izzy comes first, especially while she’s so young, so this period of time with all of this change has been more than a little disconcerting. Izzy is, of course, worth it; it’s just taking me a while to adjust.

The week in this post started on Thursday 14th September 2023 and ended on Wednesday 20th September 2023.


THURSDAY

Since the arrival of Izzy, I’ve been brutally forced to become a morning person, having previously slept in until after nine (usually due to staying up far too late – Revenge Bedtime Procrastination is my nemesis). But Izzy is an early bird and takes great pleasure in waking me up at six thirty and trust me, if you’ve never had a young puppy, you need to get up and sort them out; she’s still learning to use the puppy pad and a few extra minutes with your eyes closed is not worth the potential clean up.

So I dragged myself up, took her downstairs, and gave her breakfast. I managed to inhale some fruit salad (my current hyperfixation food – something I’ve never experienced before) while she ate and then put down the cat food, removing myself and Izzy so that they could eat in peace: Izzy has a bad habit of bouncing up to them with great but apparently terrifying enthusiasm, which has them running for the cat flap; she’s desperate to play with them but I think they interpret that playful behaviour as scary and unpredictable so the bonding is going pretty slowly (one of the cats, our matriarch, does put her firmly in her place though – one down, four to go). Upstairs, I played with Izzy for a bit, letting her burn off some energy and then did my Duolingo practice and physiotherapy exercises.

Mum had taken Lucy to the vet for a check up post a small surgery she had a few weeks ago and she came back with a clean bill of health. We released her and then raced out of the door, got in the car, and headed for the hospital for my hydrotherapy appointment. The drive gave me the chance to just sit and reply to the various messages that needed responses; I feel like my brain has been so full recently that it’s been hard to focus on smaller tasks, like messages and emails. Maybe it’s an ADHD or Autism thing; given how close I’ve felt to burnout over the last few months, it wouldn’t surprise me.

I was a little late for the appointment because we couldn’t find anywhere to park, disabled space or not, until the last possible second and then, when we got in, we discovered that the towel was still at home, hanging on the radiator after swimming the night before. Fortunately, they were prepared for that eventuality. But apart from those few mishaps, it was a really good session. The exercises I got about eighteen months ago – between finding the right pool to work in and waiting for the follow up appointment, it’s taken this long to get to this point – have become easy so the hydrotherapist suggested a few ways to increase the resistance. Between those and the physiotherapy exercises, I’m working pretty much my whole body so we added a series of core exercises, given that that area of the body is a real weakness for people with Hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome; it made sense to be putting extra work into those muscles. We ran through each of them in turn and the hydrotherapist (the same one I’d worked with last time) said how impressed she was at how hard I’d clearly been working, how committed I’ve been (apparently it’s not uncommon for people to just do the exercises a few times and then, unsurprisingly, not progress). That meant a lot to me because I have been working really hard over the last year, even when I didn’t want to. I obviously didn’t do it for the praise but it was really nice to have the work recognised and acknowledged by someone who knows what they’re talking about. With the new exercises under my belt, I feel really good about the work I’ve done so far and really motivated to keep going.

Back home, Izzy was delighted to see me, which was very sweet; she was positively trembling with joy. I let her out of her crate (we are attempting to crate-train her and she’s taking to it fairly well) and we played with various toys for a while before I crashed on the sofa and accidentally fell asleep; between the hydrotherapy and chasing after Izzy, I was exhausted.

I slept for a couple of hours and then dragged myself up for some food and caught the train to London. Barely a week earlier, I’d joined an online creative workshop run by the arts organisation, Magical Women (run by and for neurodivergent women and non-binary individuals). The atmosphere was really positive, everyone was really nice and supportive, and I felt really included, despite it being my first session. After that workshop, I got an invitation to the private view of the founder’s new exhibition, Biodiversity of Sites and Sounds by Elinor Rowlands. I didn’t have much experience of the organisation and the people involved but they felt like a group I wanted to be a part of so I rearranged my plans and hopped on a train to London.

The gallery was gorgeous. I love more abstract styles and pieces of art. I love how they’re completely open to your interpretation: what they are, what they mean, and what they make you feel. I really liked Elinor’s work and ended up pouring over the postcards, trying to not just buy one of each canvas.

I met some really lovely people too and it felt like a really safe space with pretty much everyone in attendance being neurodivergent. That was a nice ratio for a change. I was a little disorientated, having gotten lost on the way, and so I was struggling a bit with how to join in the socialising but fortunately everyone was really friendly and I was quickly included in multiple discussions. It was really, really nice and if I hadn’t had to catch a train back home, I would’ve liked to have joined them all in the pub after, most us having stayed until the exhibition closed.

And that was when it all went wrong (and becomes blurry, as meltdown and almost-meltdown experiences often become afterwards). I was standing at the lift with the last group of people when I realised I didn’t have my leather jacket, my favourite jacket and the one that I wear everywhere; it’s a deeply important and confidence-boosting piece of clothing. I retraced my steps and when I still couldn’t find it, I searched the whole floor, getting increasingly more panicked. Given how late it was, there was no one around and my group of people had already left so there was no one to ask. I called my Mum, sobbing and hyperventilating, and she tried to calm me down enough to make a plan, but then I was locked out of the building and I was overwhelmed with the feeling that my jacket was gone forever: I could’ve left it somewhere inside or on a wall during one of the many moments I’d stopped to check my map app. I was frozen: I couldn’t think and I was struggling to talk; I couldn’t take deep breaths so the hyperventilating continued; I couldn’t move but I was shaking; I felt completely overwhelmed by every light and every sound and every movement, like a car or a motorbike or a person, startled me, feeling so sudden and completely unpredictable and like I couldn’t keep track of them all; I felt extremely vulnerable; and I felt so ridiculous and stupid (I remember calling myself ‘a fucking idiot’ over and over again, for losing the jacket and for caring about it so much in the first place). I had to wait ages for a bus back to the station and despite the amount of people, no seemed to notice my trembling or hiccuping sobs.

Somehow I managed to get back to the station and catch a train home. Between the lack of jacket and the exhaustion of the almost-but-not-quite-meltdown, I was desperately tired and quickly got cold. The journey felt very long but eventually we pulled into the station and Mum was waiting for me at the barrier, Izzy bundled up in her blanket like a little puppy burrito. Despite everything, the picture brought a smile to my face.

Back home and snuggled up on the sofa with Izzy, I continued my New Tricks rewatch (an old favourite – although there are moments that would never have been written now) for an episode or so before going to bed; I just needed some time to decompress (and get warm) before I tried to sleep.


FRIDAY

I struggled up early and sorted out Izzy: she’s doing so well that I can’t really complain but I’m finding the aggressive shift from ‘late sleeper’ to ‘early bird’ pretty tough. Anyway, as I said, Izzy was really good, eating all of her breakfast out of her bowl (rather than refusing anything but hand-feeding) and using the puppy-pad perfectly. She’s such a good girl and she’s so adorable and happy when we praise her: she’s so pleased with herself.

I had a quick shower and then headed out for a meeting with a mentor I have as part of an organisation dedicated to supporting autistic individuals post-education. For a number of reasons, we’ve been very slow to get started but now we’re finally meeting on a regular basis. She’s really nice and because she’s neurodivergent with a lot of the same health problems as me, she understands me in ways that a lot of people don’t. I’m still not sure about how the sessions are supposed to help but we’re still getting to know each other and I guess it will become clear in time. This doesn’t really feel like the time or place to discuss the sessions, if only because we’re still so early in the process, but there was one thing I wanted to note: we’ve changed rooms and in this new room, there’s carpet on the wall – presumably for soundproofing – but it looks like grass, dark green and shag-like pile, and I was instantly compelled to touch it. There was just something so pleasing about it and when Mum picked me up at the end, I… expressed my desire to have a similar set up. Very enthusiastically. I do need to soundproof my space better to improve my vocal recordings after all… She’s unconvinced.

Back home, I briefly caught up with two of my parents over FaceTime before having a lie down on the sofa, Izzy curled up with me. I was completely exhausted and the gentle, repetitive stroking of her soft puppy fur almost put me to sleep. I’d hoped to get some writing done before my friend, Dan, arrived but apparently I was just too tired. And Izzy is deeply distracting (which I’m sure she knows and relishes). But such is life. Izzy was delighted to see Dan and Dan was delighted to see Izzy; he really loves her and she really loves him. It’s very cute. They were instantly playing and it was very enjoyable to watch.

We’d had vague plans to continue our Fringe rewatch etc, but we literally ended up playing with Izzy and chatting. I’m not complaining though; it was really, really nice. Something that I love about our friendship is how we can just talk and talk about pretty much anything – from the newest odd facts we’ve learned to how our week has been to some of the deepest stuff possible – for hours and hours and while we can be deeply serious, we also laugh a lot. It’s really lovely and I’m so grateful for this relationship that we’ve built.

So it ended up being a very chilled out day. We dropped Dan off at the station early evening and then came home and stretched out in the living room. I was really tired but it was much too early to go to bed so Mum and I continued our New Tricks rewatch and I finally posted about Izzy on social media…

We had a particularly good fish and chips for dinner and although I tried to do some writing, I really didn’t achieve much. I couldn’t concentrate and I just couldn’t get comfortable; it certainly doesn’t help that the desk I use when sitting on the sofa has all but collapsed and basically pins me to the sofa. I need to get a new one but I haven’t found any that have adjustable legs, which is kind of key in my experience. Hopefully one will pop up in my searches soon.

Izzy did interrupt the peace of the evening when she swiped the kitchen roll off the sofa and proceeded to unroll it all over the carpet. It was very funny – she was clearly having an absolute ball – but it took ages to persuade her to let go and tidy it all up. Again, I can’t really complain: it was so cute and Izzy is so excitable and, on the whole, it wasn’t a huge hassle. It’s hard not to be touched by her innocent wonder and pure excitement about the world. Everything is fun; everything is an adventure or a game.

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She had a good ten minutes of zoomies, which is always very funny and very adorable. Having said that, it did then devolve into barking and nipping, which I was not pleased with, and I don’t enjoy telling her off, even though I know it’s what she needs to understand what she can and can’t do. I got ready for bed, letting her run and run and run – hopefully burning off the last of her energy (it’s not long until we can take her outside and to the park, thank goodness). I was in bed and finishing the last of my diary notes when she finally calmed down and came to me, asking to be lifted onto the bed. She wandered around for a little bit and then stretched out across my legs, falling sleep. Little weirdo. It looked so uncomfortable but she seemed perfectly content. Having her there was very comforting: I was feeling very overwhelmed and unprepared for everything coming up and her heartbeat, her breathing, and her warmth were very soothing. It didn’t solve anything – that would be a pretty big ask – but I did feel a little less panicked for her presence.


SATURDAY

Izzy got me up early, as is my new normal, and then we settled into the living room, where I threw toys for her for a little while. Then I got my new blog post up (Introducing Izzy!) and then had a shower and got dressed before taking Izzy out to the vet for her first vaccine. She handled it really well. The vet also advised that she get her microchip – in case she rushed out or got loose between the house and the car, for example – so we did that too. She wriggled a bit at that but it was a really big needle; it must’ve hurt! But she got lots of treats and attention and it wasn’t long before she’d recovered. They also weighed her and she’s only 1.4kg! She’s tiny! And with that, we headed out, buying her a new toy on our way: a dragon that may or may not be bigger than her.

Back home, I did some admin work, including posting about my upcoming gig, which I’m really excited about…

After a couple of hours, I had to stop and have a nap. I’m so tired at the moment that a middle-of-the-day nap is pretty vital in order to stay functional and, to be honest, I’ve been so tired that I don’t really have a choice in the matter. I can struggle to stay awake longer, not getting very much done, or I can surrender to sleep and hopefully wake up with a bit more energy to keep going. This started with Izzy’s arrival and I think the early mornings (and lack of change around going to bed late) has been catching up with me. I guess it’s fortunate that my life is generally flexible enough to accommodate that adjustment.

I spent the afternoon working on blog posts and then had an early dinner before signing in to the new Amanda Tapping livestream through The Companion – I’d like to write it up like I did the last one, but this post isn’t the place for that. It was as lovely an experience as it was last time: Amanda is such a warm, open person and such an engaging speaker, able to move seamlessly between funny and thoughtful. But most of all, she’s so honest and talks about really vulnerable moments and feelings, sharing them with such trust; it’s hard not to feel honoured and even a bit overwhelmed by that. The relationship she has managed to cultivate with her fans – over decades and through multiple different projects – feels so special and so sacred, one that she holds as much reverence for as we do. She and the host, Rebecca, talked for a while, about mental health and self care, Amanda sharing the story of her daughter leaving for university and her emotions around that, how much letting her friends be there for her has helped both her mental health and their friendships. She talked about crying a lot, mostly in positive terms, and how helpful it can be. But the thing she talked about that hit me hardest, that resonated most, was when she talked about self worth: she talked about how low her self worth had become and how she hadn’t felt worthy of taking care of herself, that she had had to work really hard to feel worthy of self care again. That made me very emotional: I hate the thought of her feeling like that but, again, I felt somewhat overwhelmed by the fact that she was sharing that experience with us. I feel very lucky to have found her all those years ago, to have such an amazing person to look up to.

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Then, in response to questions from people watching, she talked about various topics, including how she’s struggled with guilt as a mother, how she would – and sometimes still does – talk to her Mum as if they were talking on the phone when she misses her (she died in 2021), and how she practices self care. And then they were having to wrap things up. It went by so fast, everyone agreed – Amanda, Rebecca, and multiple people in the chat. But it was really lovely and really special and they’re planning to do another one soon-ish.

Having met Amanda pretty recently at London Film & Comic Con and having felt so buoyed by the experience, I couldn’t resist getting a meet and greet for after the livestream; the money was going to charity after all. So, after the livestream ended, everyone with a meet and greet (a short Zoom call with Amanda in groups of four) logged into Zoom to chat until our time slots. I’ve never done anything like that and I didn’t know how to make it work and I was starting to get really panicked about not being able to get into the call when I finally figured it out; once in, I had to just sit for a little while, trying to calm down and compose myself. I hadn’t known what to expect but (fortunately for my anxiety levels) it was really nice, everyone chatting and holding various pets up to the camera; there was something so communal and easy about it, all of us connected through our shared love of Amanda and her work. But then suddenly it was my group’s turn and I was overwhelmed by anxiety again. I didn’t know how it would work with four people, especially with so little time, and I didn’t want to ‘waste’ my opportunity to talk with her. I have such respect for her and she means so much to me that I really didn’t want to make a fool of myself or just say something completely forgettable. But fortunately, she always makes it so easy to be open, even though I was feeling so anxious and fragile; it’s the same on screen as it is in person. And having Izzy in my arms was both good for my anxiety and as a conversation starter: Amanda and I joked about the extremes of our dog owner experience, Amanda’s dog being a huge Bouvier mix and Izzy being a tiny Pomchi (Riley was apparently about 8.5kg at 8 weeks while Izzy was barely 1kg at the same age and likely won’t get bigger than 5.5kg). Very different experiences. We did talk about more than our dogs but I’m still turning the rest over in my mind. I don’t know how she does it but she manages to get everything else to fade away, making it so easy to talk to her, and it always feels like you have her complete attention, which is a bit overwhelming but also so moving and special. And then, all of a sudden, it was the next group’s turn. I knew the meet and greets weren’t long but it was pretty jarring, especially given the time it had taken me to get settled. But it doesn’t matter; I’m really grateful for the experience.

I have such intense anxiety when doing things like this that my adrenaline is sky high during the event and for a while after before crashing spectacularly. And even before that happened, I was exhausted. So I tried to be sensible and, instead of trying to keep working, I had some chill time in front of the TV and had a little scroll through social media. Having drastically reduced my time on it, I actually enjoy it more now, for the most part.

Given how tired I was, I actually went to bed fairly early – for me, at least. Izzy was clearly having her nighttime zoomies and, no matter what I did, she couldn’t seem to stop running circuits around the living room. It’s very cute and very funny – she seemed to be having a ball, pun kind of intended – so I left her to it and got ready for bed by myself. It wasn’t long until she joined me and snuggled up as close as she could get, another adorable habit of hers. Soft and warm, she’s lovely to cuddle up with.

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Unfortunately, I couldn’t sleep and was still awake at two. I took a break from trying to sleep for a while, looking up poetry and writing challenges online for inspiration, and then eventually managed to drift off, dreading the early start.


SUNDAY

Izzy clearly hadn’t noticed my nighttime restlessness and was licking me awake just after seven. I struggled up and got her sorted with breakfast and a new puppy pad before we settled in the living room. We played for a while – she picked up ‘fetch’ so incredibly fast – and then she curled up for a snooze while I did my physio and Duolingo and other daily tasks before getting down to writing for a bit.

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Me and Izzy spent most of the day like that, taking breaks for meals and playtime. It was a nice quiet day, which I appreciated after the short night.

Late-afternoon-early-evening, I headed to the pool for a swim. Without too much effort, I managed to swim a kilometre – the longest I’ve swum in years – and do the hydrotherapy exercises that are possible in that pool. That was really invigorating and I was really proud of myself, especially for the kilometre: it’s really clear evidence of how hard I’ve been working over the last eighteen months and what a difference that work has made. So, similarly to how I felt after the hydrotherapy appointment, I feel really good about what I’ve done so far and really motivated to keep going.

Izzy was practically vibrating with joy when we got in and I released her from a crate. She’s so funny: she does actually like it and often takes herself off to sleep in there but god forbid someone shuts her in. She gave me and then Mum a hero’s welcome – which is more than a little bit ridiculous but I’m always happy to cuddle with her – before busying herself with one of her toys and I settled down on the sofa again. I put on The Lincoln Lawyer – what a lovely show it is and one of my favourite background noise soundtracks – and did some more blog writing before spending the rest of my evening practicing for my show on Wednesday. I know I’m practicing more songs than I need but there are just so many that I want to play; I’m going to have to make some very reluctant editing of my setlist at some point.

I went to bed feeling exhausted and sore: my knee was hurting after the swim and I was somewhat concerned I’d been a bit overenthusiastic when doing my hydro exercises. My tailbone was also hurting, which is apparently a very common problem with hEDS (the gift that keeps on giving, she says sarcastically). So I took some painkillers and went to bed, feeling less than optimistic about the night ahead. Both of those pain issues have been known to wake me up throughout the night.


MONDAY

As predicated, I slept badly, the pain in my tailbone or one of my knees waking me up every time I moved or rolled over. It was miserable: trying to get back to sleep each time was miserable and waking up completely exhausted in the morning was miserable. The only not-miserable thing about it was that I woke up before Izzy and managed to get some snuggles in while she was still warm and soft and floppy; those moments with her are especially lovely.

Mum was up early and offered to do ‘the morning shift’ and I accidentally went back to sleep, getting another three hours or so, which I definitely appreciated. Izzy greeted me with great enthusiasm when I managed to get up, still sore, and tried to help me with my physio exercises (reduced due to the pain), which – unsurprisingly – wasn’t particularly helpful. But it is always very cute. Then, after some breakfast for me, we snuggled up together while I caught up on some emails and messages. Izzy was getting sleepy, ready for her mid-morning nap, and was beyond adorable, curled up at my elbow. It was very tempting to just abandon my to-do list and cuddle up with her. It wouldn’t be the first time. But I resisted the urge and actually got some work done.

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When I reached a good stopping point, I went to have a shower, sticking my head into my Mum’s room as I passed. Four of the five cats were curled up on Mum’s bed. They love the waffle of my Mum’s duvet but I’m pretty sure the biggest draw is that it’s one of the few comfy places that Izzy can’t reach and so they can chill out undisturbed. I know it’s a process and that they will all get used to each other but I do miss them since Izzy is currently glued to me and they’re avoiding her. I’m also struggling with the fact that she’s obviously creating stress in their otherwise blissfully stress-free lives, the result of a decision I made. I know that it’s super early – too early – to be stressing about whether they’ll ever get along but I can’t help it. I’m trying not to but it still creeps in.

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Back in the living room, I logged into Zoom to attend a writing workshop, one of a series that I’ve been really enjoying lately. My absolute favourite workshop series ended a while back and I’m waiting for their next project to start but this one is really great too; it’s probably my second favourite of the ones I’ve done, certainly as a series of workshops (I’ve done some fun one off ones as well). These ones have more specific prompts but, if your writing wanders off in an unexpected direction that you’re really excited about, you’re encouraged to just go with it and see where it takes you. The overall prompt for this workshop was ‘door,’ which then became more specific after the opening exercises and free-writing. An idea came to me very quickly and the words just flowed so I just let the story happen. I feel like I’ve said this in another post recently but, as much as I love and feel connected to songwriting, I’ve been really enjoying dipping my toes in the fiction pond again.

When that finished, I had some lunch in front of The Lincoln Lawyer before moving to the piano. I spent several hours reworking an old song; everyone loves it and I do too but I just don’t think it’s saying what I want to say quite as well as it could. So I worked on refining it, making each line count and tie into the overall metaphor. I wrote the first draft several years ago now and I know I’m a better songwriter now; I’m confident that I can turn it into a stronger song.

My uni was hosting a songwriters’ circle that evening and although I really wanted to go – several people I really liked were playing – I just didn’t think I had it in me to go up to London again before the show on Wednesday; I needed to conserve my energy and chances were that the train journeys would trigger pain that I wouldn’t have recovered from in time. So I grudgingly gave up on that plan and stayed home, practicing my songs, eating dinner in front of Hijack with Mum, and snuggling with Izzy. She’d been quite hyper and destructive during the evening but when she finally calmed down, she was warm and soft and floppy in my arms. It was very cute and I couldn’t help laughing at the silly faces she made in her sleep…

I tried to get to bed while she was still sleepy but it didn’t work. She got the zoomies (plus she was biting a lot, which was exhausting) so I left her to it and did some diary writing while I waited for her to run out of energy and settle down for bed.


TUESDAY

I kept waking up throughout the night, my tailbone hurting every time I turned over. Every time, Izzy was snuggled up as close as possible, pressed into my neck, which was very cute. When I woke up for the final time, a little before my eight thirty alarm, she was still asleep and I was able to pull her into a sleepy cuddle, which was just too adorable for words. It was definitely a good way to start the day.

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When Izzy woke up properly, we went downstairs as per our morning routine. Then I did some blog writing before having a shower and some breakfast. I had a physiotherapy session at twelve and we went through my current exercises, cutting some, adjusting others, and adding new ones. My physiotherapist is great and really understands hypermobility, which is so helpful; that knowledge makes for a much more productive and motivating experience.

When I got home, I found two of the cats – Sooty and Tiger – curled up together on a chair. I swear they were giving me some serious side-eye over Izzy. While I do feel bad about the stress she causes them, they do seem to have bonded more closely since she arrived, which is really lovely to see: they hang out together, they snuggle up together, they back each other up when Izzy appears, they check in with each other… It is really sweet. Hopefully things will settle and we’ll find a new normal soon.

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I went to the pool mid afternoon and did my hydro exercises as well as managing a bit of a swim. I had a bit of a break when I got home, watching a film (Luckiest Girl Alive – I didn’t love it but I thought the performances from Mila Kunis and Chiara Aurelia were really good) and doing some blog post writing. Then, after an early dinner, I spent several hours practicing for the show and deciding which songs to play, which to hold in case there was time, and which to cut. I didn’t end up going to bed until after one; I’m very glad we don’t have neighbours on that side right now. But even that late, I couldn’t sleep; I think I eventually drifted off around three.


WEDNESDAY

Thank god for my Mum. She sorted out Izzy and let me sleep in (I’d texted her to let her know how much of a struggle it was to get to sleep and that it was making me anxious about managing the day and the gig) so that I would have enough energy for what was going to be a fairly strenuous day. I managed to sleep until almost eleven – which is unheard of these days – and I felt pretty good when I got up. I did some social media stuff and my morning habits and so on, trying to stay relaxed about getting to London and playing the gig – I was mostly excited but it’s also been a while since I’ve done a long set at a gig so I was nervous too. Finding the cats snuggled up together and having some time with them was a nice little break from everything….

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I spent most of the day alternating between practicing and playing with Izzy. And sometimes I did both at the same time…

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She’s so adorable in her confusion over musical instruments.

And I got ready, of course. I had a shower and did my hair and make up. Getting dressed was not as straightforward though: the outfit that I’d decided on suddenly felt wrong and I got very upset, feeling fat and ugly and unfit to be perceived by anyone. I tried various different outfits and different combinations but the damage was already done and it took more energy than I thought I had not to crawl under my duvet and never come out, to get dressed anyway, and leave the house. It was horrible and it wasn’t a bad thing that I had a long drive in which to wall off all of those thoughts. For the night at least.

The drive was long and slow. It had been pouring with rain for most of the day and it just kept raining and raining and raining. It slowed us down on the motorway and caused heavy traffic when we finally got into London. Door to door, it took over three hours – much longer than usual – and even with the buffer we’d built in, I was late for my soundcheck. Fortunately Luce, organiser of the event and my very good friend, had everything under control and made it work (she was a lot calmer than I was when I finally arrived). I got a quick soundcheck in and then people started filtering in. Given how horrendous the weather was, I wasn’t sure how many people would show up but I was almost overwhelmed with joy when so many friends, family, and family friends came. Having some of my closest friends there, including one friend who was moving abroad in mere days, made it so special; I cannot articulate how much it meant to me.

Cora played the first set and it was really cool to see her perform again, to hear the growth in her songwriting, having not seen her play for a couple of years (the last time was, somewhat bizarrely, a show where we were both on the same bill as well). Her songs are beautiful but there was one in particular that I just fell in love with; Cora hasn’t shared it yet and it’s her story to tell so I won’t spoil it but should she release it, I’ll be sharing it everywhere because it was absolutely stunning.

The show went really well and it was so, so special. I’d spent a lot of time thinking about the songs I was going to play and ended up with a mix of old favourites and new ones that I’m really excited about. I got to play the piano for one of them and we even had a fun little sing-a-long at the end, which was so lovely. It felt so, so good to perform again, especially with such an engaged and receptive audience.

Luce was a great host and we had some great conversations about the songs, the writing process, the inspiration, songwriting in general, and so on. I always love to talk about songwriting but I feel like our discussions between songs were really rich and we found ourselves in really interesting places – likely due to our friendship, the long conversations we’ve had, and the stories (both joyful and difficult) that we’ve shared with each other. It doesn’t feel like a stretch to say that much of the audience listening felt the same way, given the vulnerable and touching comments in the review notebook.

You can probably tell from this video how much I love talking about songwriting, as I said a moment ago…

It was over much too quickly and I lingered for a while, packing up and talking to people and hugging friends and family goodbye. But eventually I had to accept that the night was over and that it was time to go home, especially since my Mum was ever so kindly driving me home; it wouldn’t have been fair to make her wait any longer. So we piled into the car and headed home. I had promised to keep her entertained in the car but the adrenaline crash hit me pretty quickly and we’d barely gotten onto the motorway when I fell asleep. I woke up as we drove into Brighton and dragged myself into the house; Izzy was delighted to see us, which was very sweet. I barely had the energy to get my make up off before crawling into bed, Izzy curled up beside me.


What a week… There were some really intense highs and really intense lows and I’m completely and utterly exhausted. I’m going to need some quiet time now, just to decompress and recharge my emotional and social batteries, let alone my physical one (not that that ever seems to charge properly).

NOTE: Considering the dates of this week, I know I’m very late in posting this. I’ve just had no energy and getting it finished and tidied up for posting seemed to take forever. But it has several moments that I really wanted documented, the good and the bad: the good being the Amanda Tapping livestream and playing such a lovely show; the bad being the meltdown and the body image stuff; as well as the normal of living with pain and managing hEDS with hydrotherapy and physiotherapy. So I wanted to get it finished and posted and I’m very glad to have finally managed that.

Seeking Help For Chronic Pain (Year Two)

TW: Mentions of being suicidal. 

Year two of dealing with chronic pain. Since it’s Bone and Joint Week, I thought it seemed timely to update this series, although hEDS isn’t bone related. But whatever. I needed to post this at some point and my joints hurt so this seemed as good a time as ever.

Unfortunately, very little changed during the second year. I was incredibly depressed, to the point where I was periods of being consistently suicidal, so I wasn’t capable of much. But we were also waiting for the Pain Clinic to get in touch as they’d promised to.

This post spans from April 2022 to March 2023.


OCTOBER 2022

After finally getting the referral to the NHS Hydrotherapy Department in December 2021, I tried to work that into my routine to get some exercise, strengthen my painful joints, and just improve my quality of living. It was pretty hit and miss for a while (as my post about it reflects) but around August, I found a pool that allowed me to do all of the assigned exercises and managed to work out a schedule. From that point on, I was going at least twice a week, if not more, and I could really feel the difference.

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I wasn’t pain-free by any stretch of the imagination though; I was in enough pain to significantly disrupt my life at least 50% of the time (and a lot of the time it was still there, even if it wasn’t upsetting my day-to-day life). I was getting stronger, with more stability, but still with no word from the Pain Clinic on how to manage or, dear god, get rid of the pain.


Into 2023 and we still hadn’t heard anything. I was working hard at hydro and I could feel the difference – I was stronger and I enjoyed the exercise – but I was still in pain a lot of the time. We’d asked my GP to chase up the Pain Clinic but not heard anything from either of them.

A Week In My Life (July 2023)

I really overdid things in June and pushed myself harder than I could really handle; I was just so overwhelmed and drained and exhausted so, in July, I tried to take things more gently, to varying degrees of success. Having said that, I did have some completely one-off opportunities booked that I couldn’t – and didn’t want to – miss. It’s hard, relearning to balance doing things with recharging and building my stamina. There are still so many things I want to do, especially see my friends and schedule more sessions with my favourite cowriters but I just really struggle to make things fit, and make things fit without absolutely crashing and burning, something that has happened repeatedly since I started taking the Phenelzine – and therefore doing things – again.

The week in this post started on Monday 3rd July 2023 and ended on Sunday 9th July 2023.


MONDAY

I woke up before nine and worked through some of my morning habits, like drinking water and my Duolingo practice, before getting up and getting in the shower. Then I settled in the living room and got to work on my current blog post, alternating with closing some of the many tabs I have open and trying to tidy my laptop up a bit. My Mum had gone in to town to get her laptop fixed and she’d asked about mine and it’s new habit of randomly turning off at any given moment. They said that, when it was made in 2015 (I got it later, refurbished), running it was like asking it to function at 100% but now, eight years later, running it is like asking it to run at 200%, which is obviously problematic. And given my propensity to work on about seven different things at once (with so many tabs open), I’m honestly surprised that it’s survived this long. They basically said that it’s not going to last much longer and I’m going to need to get a new one soon: the dreaded words with the Taylor Swift ticket sales coming up. Even though I’ve been saving for these concerts and have savings for moments like these (when something necessary, like a laptop, needs to be bought), the money anxiety was sitting in my stomach like a slimy, writhing creature.

Early afternoon, one of my friends came over to visit. She’s probably my oldest friend; we met when we were thirteen and we’ve been really close ever since, even though we don’t see each other as much now, living in different cities and working and so on. But our friendship has been one of the great pillars of my life; we always pick up right where we left off and there’s never any awkwardness. It was so, so lovely to see her, to hang out with her even though it wasn’t as long as we’d hoped for, but we got to catch up properly and we had a good laugh. I miss her more now that she’s further away, further away than she ever has during our friendship; it’s so much harder to see each other. But it’s comforting to know that our friendship has never really changed, even if it has evolved since we were at school and saw each other every day.

When she left, I made sure to take some rest time. Mum and I were both hanging out in the living room; she was working on her laptop and I spent a couple of hours continuing the work of cleaning up my laptop. We’ve been half watching House at times like this and we finally finished it, watching the ‘making of’ at the end. For the most part, it was fun and interesting but there was one part that really got under my skin: one woman was talking about the creation of the character of Gregory House and how the original idea was that House was in a wheelchair but that that was ‘too difficult’ so they changed it. I’m sure she meant it from a filming and set perspective and they eventually got to the idea of him using a cane, which I do think was a better choice for storytelling given the character, but the way she talked about it just felt really ableist and insensitive. I know I get triggered by that ‘too difficult’ and ‘too complicated’ talk but it just felt really uncomfortable and, at the very least, borderline offensive to wheelchair users.

My Mum and I had an early dinner together and finished His Dark Materials while we ate. It was the first time Mum had seen the end and my second. God, the end just wrecks me; it’s so heartbreaking. Dafne Keen and Amir Wilson’s performances (and, of course, Ruth Wilson’s – I love her) are just incredible. I think series three is my least favourite, just because there’s so much happening that needs to be shown in order for the end to make sense but, when any of those three are onscreen (plus the scenes between Ruth Wilson and James McAvoy), it’s breathtaking.

I was freaking exhausted but I made myself go and do my hydrotherapy anyway. I tried – I really, really tried – but my back still hurt and I was so exhausted that I didn’t manage as much as I usually do. I was so tired that I felt like, if I’d rolled over and floated face down, my body would have been too tired to care and I would’ve just drowned. But going was better than not going and I had a nice time with two of my parents swimming too.

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Back home afterwards, I put on Doctor Who, too tired to think any harder about what to watch, and kept working on my laptop. It was a struggle though because I kept getting distracted by the cats playing with their new donut toys, plus I kept falling asleep sitting up; I was that tired.

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I dragged myself to bed, utterly exhausted, but then I was still awake at three for some reason. That was deeply frustrating; I was so tired but I just couldn’t sleep.


TUESDAY

I struggled to wake up, finally managing to drag myself out of bed around twelve; I was just so tired and the lack of decent sleep made me feel heavy and groggy. I don’t know whether it was connected or not but for the next few hours, I had some really miserable stomach problems that meant I couldn’t do much more than lie on the sofa. I felt hot and faint and nauseous and sweat was all but dripping off me. It wasn’t fun but eventually it did recede a bit and I was able to haul myself up and into the shower.

Back in the living room, I spent the next several hours working on blog posts, hanging out with the cats, and dreading therapy. I was just feeling so tired and raw that putting my feelings under a magnifying glass was the last thing I felt like doing. But I went and it wasn’t as bad as I’d imagined it would be: I’d recommended The Anthropocene Reviewed by John Green to her because I related to so many of the feelings and philosophies that Green had written about (my copy, full of highlighted passages and comments scribbled in the margins, is an incredibly revealing insight into my brain, into my emotions and experience of the world) and she’d just finished it so we decided to go through some of the things that had really resonated with me, especially in the context of my mental health. It wasn’t easy but it wasn’t as hard as it could’ve been. I do think our discussion made it clearer than ever that my depression is still hanging around, dark and heavy and cloying.

Back home, I spent the evening working on blog posts and trying to reduce the amount of open tabs on my laptop. For a while, there was some amazing heavy rain and that really helped to lift my mood; I’ve always found it so calming but also really invigorating. If I recall correctly, rain releases a wave of negative ions which apparently relieve stress and alleviate depression as well as boosting energy. I don’t know how much research is behind those findings but heavy rain and thunderstorms always have that effect on me.

I wrote in my diary for a bit and then started to go to bed early but got distracted by the piano. A little fiddle turned into a couple of hours as I started playing old and half finished songs; my early night became a distance memory when I got sucked into writing a bridge for a song I’ve always loved but never managed to finish.

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When I eventually got to bed, I quickly planned out my route into London for the next day and then went to sleep around two in the morning.


WEDNESDAY

I struggled up early but kept falling asleep again, which resulted in me running around like a headless chicken as I tried to get ready to leave. I just managed to catch my train and spent the journey catching up with various family members, working on various blog posts, and listening to Maisie Peters’ album, The Good Witch. I’m obsessed with it.

It seemed to take ages to get to Richard (one of my best friends, my most trusted cowriter, and my producer) but I did eventually arrive, exhausted, out of breath, and hot. We hung out for a bit as I gathered myself, catching up and chilling. We were both tired but eventually we got going, settling into his studio to work on some music. We didn’t have a specific plan and ended up writing a new song together, based on an idea that I’d been turning over in my head. It was hard to start with, like we’d both forgotten how to write together after going so long without doing it – it did get easier but I think that, if we can get back to writing together more often, we’ll find our groove again (no pun intended). By the time we had to stop, we’d written a delicate little song based on The Nettle Dress, an art piece with an accompanying documentary.

That done and running late, we raced across town (my joints were deeply unimpressed – although admittedly I shouldn’t have tried to be a hero and just gotten the lift out of the tube station instead of trying to manage all of the stairs) to the O2 Forum Kentish Town for the Maren Morris show. We both love her and we always go to see her together whenever she tours here. My Mum met us there: I had a disabled ticket and she had the accompanying companion ticket since I find these environments so hard (concert accessibility is unbelievably terrible) and she knows best how to help me through them. The O2 Forum Kentish Town doesn’t have an accessible section (which, again, just blows my mind – how can they be a functioning concert venue that hosts acts as big as Maren Morris without accessible seating?!) but they offered me early access so that I could, in theory, get a suitable seat. That was very stressful but fortunately we did get in quickly enough to get a seat that wouldn’t leave me in excruciating pain the next day. The few in total that I could’ve used only fanned my frustration with them as a venue.

Sam Palladio was the support act and he was good but his musical style wasn’t really my taste; for the most part, I couldn’t stop thinking about him as Stoke in Episodes, which was pretty distracting. Ah well. I’m happy to simply enjoy the support slot; becoming a fan of the person filling that slot is a bonus considering they’re not the person you’re there to see.

Maren Morris was incredible, as always, and she played so many of my favourites, including ‘Circles Around This Town,’ ’80s Mercedes,’ ‘The Middle,’ ‘RSVP,’ ‘Nervous,’ ‘Once,’ ‘Second Wind,’ ‘Rich,’ ‘The Bones,’ and ‘My Church.’ Her voice was in top form and she’s such a great performer; it’s always such an amazing experience to see her live. I love how much London means to her, how she never fails to acknowledge how much she loves it. And to honour that this time, she played a brand new song called ‘Get the Hell Out of Here.’ That was really special.

It was a really, really awesome show. She’s such an amazing performer. My only regret was that she didn’t play ‘Humble Quest’ since I love it so much, but then it seems that we got a lot more songs than the rest of the tour did – plus a new song – so I really can’t complain. It is surprising to me though, since it is the title track of her most recent album. (The show had also meant I missed the Song Suffragettes show – and, as it turned out, the last one – which I was sad about because I love or am desperate to see most of the girls playing and see my friends who work the event but it couldn’t be helped. It’s Maren Morris!)

Richard and I hugged goodbye, repeatedly and effusively, before going our separate ways. A short bus ride later and I was on the train home. I was exhausted but I used the time to make sure my Ticketmaster and AXS accounts were linked up and organised, all the information stored clearly and carefully to hopefully make any ticket buying as straightforward as possible. It was a cold train on a cold night and even though I’d sat for most of the show, my joints were so sore (probably from the slightly panicked journey to the venue); I was hobbling by the time I got off the train.

I was very pleased to get home and into my bed but I needed some time to decompress before I could sleep. I was scrolling through BBC iPlayer, looking for something that would soothe the still surging adrenaline. I spotted Wallace & Gromit, consistent figures in my childhood, and ended up falling asleep as those stories played out.


THURSDAY

My alarm went off at the usual time but I ended up going to back to sleep. It was a very slow start to the day but I was just so tired and sore from the night before. I also had a throbbing headache so I figured I was dehydrated, having probably not drunk enough at the concert. I’ve been trying to drink more water (my hEDS comes with Dysautonomia so I’m quickly and easily dehydrated) but the habit hasn’t become ingrained yet and I’d been distracted by the trip to London.

I lay in bed for a while, looking through my photos from the night before. There weren’t many good ones. I would love to get a new camera – mine is probably ten years old now, if not more, and I’m finding myself increasingly unhappy with the quality of the photos – but between the cost of Taylor Swift tickets (fingers crossed that I can get them) and the looming expense of a new laptop (mine is dying a slow, painful death), I can’t afford it, at least not for a while. Hopefully I’ll be able to get one before hopefully seeing Taylor Swift next year.

It turned out to be a hard day. I did manage to get my budget clearly worked out for seeing Taylor (I’d had a rough idea, having been saving since The reputation Tour ended, but it needed to be hammered out, which I’ve now done) but I spent most of the day in tears, stressed and overwhelmed and exhausted; it’s never been clearer that I need a day off, that I’ve been doing too much and need to slow down a bit. The boost Phenelzine gave me seems to have worn off, at least to some degree, and now I’m left with more plans than I have the energy or emotional capacity for. Between the busy weekend ahead, my stress around money, and the fear that I won’t get to see The Eras Tour next year: I’d received a presale code but there was no information about disabled access and when we rang them to ask how to handle the ticket sale, the information was different from last time. It’s different every time. The whole thing is just getting more and more distressing; it’s just another aspect of the world telling me that, because I’m disabled, I don’t matter as much as the rest of the population.

So it wasn’t the best day and I struggled to get much done. I did some writing and posted on my cat Instagram – a throwback to when my lovely Lucy was a kitten – but that was about it, having lost so my of the day to panic and distress…

I had a quiet evening, watching New Tricks with Mum and working on a couple of different blog posts before going to bed.


FRIDAY

I could not sleep, no matter what I tried; I think three hours is probably a generous estimate if I totalled up the sleep I did manage to get. It was frustrating and boring but the timing could’ve been worse as it meant I was awake to listen to Speak Now (Taylor’s Version) when it came out. Given that her album releases are always at five am for me, I don’t get to join in the countdown with everyone online. So that was a bonus of sorts.

I always loved Speak Now – it was the album that had me absolutely invested in Taylor’s music – and I think this is the best rerecording of the three so far, in terms of how closely she’s managed to replicate the sound. The vault comes close to being my favourite, just after the vault on Red (Taylor’s Version): I love ‘Electric Touch (Taylor’s Version) (From The Vault),’ ‘I Can See You (Taylor’s Version) (From The Vault),’ ‘Timeless (Taylor’s Version) (From The Vault),’ and ‘Castles Crumbling (Taylor’s Version) (From The Vault)’ is fast becoming one of my favourite songs on the whole album. And the prologue is beautiful but heartbreaking; I’m tempted to call it one of the best non-musical things she’s written. Speak Now has always been about using her music to express her feelings and tell her side of so many different stories but this new prologue exposes a new side of that: that she was ashamed of not speaking up in the moment (something that she now tries hard to do) and that writing these songs was her way of coping with it, like she needed to prove to herself – and everyone else – that she could speak up. That undertone of shame is also present when you look at the songs she didn’t include at the time, in the context of the prologue: there are powerful emotions and experiences – the insecurity in ‘When Emma Falls in Love (Taylor’s Version) (From The Vault),’ exploring her sexuality in ‘I Can See You (Taylor’s Version) (From The Vault),’ and the pressures and fears that you can hear in ‘Castles Crumbling (Taylor’s Version) (From The Vault),’ for example – that it seems she didn’t feel able to share and thus an album about being honest wasn’t as honest as she’d intended. I have so many thoughts about this album already but I think I’ll save them for my albums post.

I got up around seven, bored of trying to sleep; I figured I’d have a nap later in the day if I needed one. My plans for the day had changed anyway: I’d originally been going to see Madeline Edwards at OMEARA that night, having seen her in Nashville and fallen in love with her album, Crashlanded, but she’d cancelled the show (with promises to come back soon). I was disappointed – I’d been really looking forward to seeing her perform again and seeing her perform a show after seeing her in a songwriters’ round capacity – but personally, it was probably a good thing that I didn’t have to travel up to London with the weekend I had ahead of me. I was already completely exhausted and it meant I could still go to therapy – not as much fun but still a worthy use of time.

I tried to have a restful day but I was so anxious about going to London Film and Comic Con the next day. It was my third attempt; my first was thwarted by COVID and the second by my anxiety. It’s not a happy environment for me and I was stressed about being surrounded by so many people and so much noise. I was also worried about messing up out of anxiety when meeting Amanda Tapping, my reason for going. So the whole thing had me basically paralysed by anxiety. I tried to do nice things, like watch my favourite TV shows and make bracelets (my current hyperfixation), but it was still a lot.

I went to therapy and we split the time between going over the coming days and my coping strategies before continuing with our discussions inspired by The Anthropocene Reviewed by John Green. I do like having something to prompt our conversations, especially when it’s a busy, stressful week; I feel like it allows us to keep moving forward, for her to keep learning about me, without flooring me the way sessions often do. When I’ve got something big the next day (or during the week), I can’t really afford to give everything to therapy. It’s a good way of still making the most of the time, at least for me.

Back home, I put on New Tricks (an oldie but such a goodie – apart from some of Brian’s mental health stuff) and continued resting, methodically making more bracelets. I wasn’t sure if I’d have the opportunity (or the confidence) to give the handful I’d made for Amanda to her but I wanted to be prepared. I also wrote out my letter for her (I wanted to make sure I could share the thoughts I wanted to share with her, even if I froze up in the moment) and chose the photo I wanted her to sign at the autograph booth (one from the final episode of SanctuarySanctuary, my beloved).

One of my parents (one that doesn’t live with me and Mum) joined us for dinner and we caught up and continued our watching of Lucifer while we ate. I finished the bracelets I’d been making and went to bed early, very aware of how early I had to be up in the morning to get to London.


SATURDAY

I had a stressful early start but despite everything, Mum and I still made the train on time. Mum had a carer’s pass for LFCC; there was no way I could do it without her. Maybe one day but certainly not at this point, having already attempted to go and backed out because my anxiety over it was so paralysing. Even with her there, I was worried about getting overwhelmed and having a meltdown. But at least with her there, someone knows what to do; I wouldn’t have to manage something like that on my own.

On the train, I managed to get my new blog post up and then there was nothing left to do but wait and deep breathe until we got to London and then over to Olympia. Getting in as a disabled person was complicated and stressful – I absolutely would’ve had a meltdown if I’d been there by myself, without her to take over and cut through the chaos – but the people were really nice (one of them at least was autistic too) and skipped through all the complications to make it easier and get me through the registration and back out into the open hall and away from the dense crowd, which I really appreciated. We’d arrived in good time so at least I didn’t have to worry about that. We’d planned to be there just for the Amanda Tapping parts – the meeting and photograph, the autograph, and her talk later in the afternoon – so that I didn’t overwhelm myself when I was already anxious about my first trip to the convention but that meant we had a pretty big gap in the middle of the day; I hadn’t booked anything because I hadn’t been sure how the autographs worked. But according to the schedule Clark Gregg and Iain De Caestecker – both from Agents of Shield – had a talk right in that block of empty so I booked us into that.

I’d been well prepared and had the map on my phone so I navigated us up to the second level where the photo booths and autograph tables are. I spotted Amanda quickly and just stood for a while, watching people take their turn and trying to get an understanding of how the whole thing worked. But since it was just about time for her photo session, I didn’t join the queue; I’d just have to leave it again in a few minutes. So I found a quieter area to sit and wait, deep breathing to try and keep myself calm for the impending meeting. I was so anxious and so anxious about doing something stupid or embarrassing that would make me cringe for the rest of my life; I tried not to obsess over that possibility and just breathe but it was hard. My Extra Help wristband meant that I was allowed to go straight through for the photo – so I didn’t have to stand and didn’t have to spend too long completely surrounded by people – but there were still several people before me, which was a relief; that meant I could watch both how the process worked and how they interacted with Amanda (and how Amanda interacted with them, not that that had changed from when I met her back in 2018 at AT9 – she’s so open and warm) to prepare myself. When it was my turn, we hugged and I said how good it was to see her in real life and not on a screen. She was really lovely; I hate that the memory is already fading. We posed for the photo and then we said goodbye, that I’d see her at the autograph table. I don’t know how she does that kind of event; I’d be completely overwhelmed. My photo was printed right there and I collected it on the way out. I wish I was happier with it: my fringe rarely looks good in photos and I feel like I never look like myself in posed photos. But, as it turned out, it was the autograph moment that was really special.

The adrenaline was still pumping, my hands shaking, when I met up with Mum outside the photo booth and it took almost an hour for me to calm down. The adrenaline crash was making me feel sick and I was obsessing a bit over whether I should’ve done the autograph before the photo, whether I’d been too enthusiastic, and so on and so forth. The photo session had ended and, after taking a photo with Matt Smith, Amanda was back at the autograph table. I was really stressing about messing up but I knew that putting if off was just giving me more time to worry. At that moment, the queue was pretty short so I joined the end and pulled out the photo I’d printed for her to sign.

The photo sparked surprise from her helper person – I think everyone had one to take care of the admin of checking everyone off and getting names right – about her with long, dark hair, which Amanda laughed about and I expressed my love of Sanctuary and how important the show was to me, how it always will be. I gave her the letter I’d written, briefly explaining that I’m autistic and had worried that I’d get too overwhelmed to talk, which she took in stride (I was feeling pretty overwhelmed, talking to her face to face – although having no one behind me, waiting for me to move on, did help). I also gave her the bracelets I’d made and she was so gracious and so lovely about them, instantly noticing that both Mum and I were wearing others that I’d made. The conversation actually felt surprisingly easy and, like any fan I think, I couldn’t help wishing I had hours to talk to her and ask her questions. My Mum also grabbed a moment with her, thanking her for everything she’s done for me – for how much her presence in my life has helped me – from one mother to another. We all ended up quite emotional and Amanda stood up and gave us both a hug, saying that we’d made her weekend. I’m sure that we’re one of multiple moments that made her weekend but that meant a lot to me; I treasure that comment.

I was beyond hyped and very emotional after that and needed a quiet moment to myself in the bathrooms in order to bring everything back down to manageable levels, levels where I wouldn’t get tipped into a meltdown by the business and background noise of the convention. And by the time I’d managed that, it was time for the Clark Gregg and Iain De Caestecker talk.

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Clark Gregg is so lovely, warm and open and affable, and although he was quieter, Iain De Caestecker seemed really nice too. They were clearly really good buddies and they told lots of funny stories; they were very enjoyable to listen to. It was really cool to hear how they got into acting and how some of their early roles shaped them and their approaches to their careers and their new projects sound interesting, although I’m not entirely sure Iain’s is my thing. They talked a little bit about Agents of SHIELD but I couldn’t help wishing that they’d talked about it a bit more, about their experiences on the show and with their castmates. I’m pretty sure everyone there was an Agents of SHIELD fan and would’ve welcomed any behind the scenes stories. On that note, I’m still sad about missing Ming Na Wen when my anxiety forced me to cancel and I would LOVE to see Chloe Bennet at a convention, although I’m not sure she does them anymore; she hasn’t done one in years, pandemic irrelevant. I can only imagine what an absolute mess I’d be if I had the opportunity to meet her, given how important the character of Daisy Johnson is to me; her acting is, of course, a big part of that.

When the talk ended, Mum and I found a table tucked away and had some lunch. We ended up chatting with a man who had a service dog, a gorgeous yellow lab or golden retriever, I wasn’t quite sure. But he was lovely and that got us talking. Now that I’ve been accepted to Autism Dogs‘ service dog programme (yes, I am SO excited about getting a service dog but I want to talk about that properly in its own post because the whole thing is a really big deal), I’m always keen to talk to people about their experiences and about their service dogs. This guy – he was also autistic but had his service dog due to being in the armed forces – patiently talked with me about his previous and current service dogs and even showed me photos of his dogs meeting various famous people; that made me laugh. While obviously not a good reason for trying to get an Autism service dog, I think that must be a super cool way of raising awareness about Autism and the needs of autistic individuals: posting pictures of your service dog with someone famous.

When the time rolled around, me and Mum headed down to the little auditorium area. I ended up making friends with someone in the queue and we spent the wait, discussing how much we love Amanda Tapping, about Stargate SG-1 and Sanctuary. She was having a hard time and, as the only person there, I did my best to keep her occupied until the talk began and then we were all absolutely occupied by Amanda. She walked out onto the stage and I noticed straight away that she was wearing three of the bracelets I’d made her – I thought I might explode with joy. (I couldn’t see, at the time, which ones she’d chosen and my photos turned out not to be clear enough. I ended up scouring social media for photos that would reveal them and, although it took several days, I did eventually get to see which ones they were, which made me very happy.)

I’ve always found Amanda to be a beautiful, thoughtful speaker. Even when answering questions from the audience, questions she couldn’t have prepared for, she speaks well, earnest and personable and funny, always engaged with both the person who asked the question and the audience as a whole. I think it’s because everything she does comes from a place of empathy. All of that said, the talk was really interesting and enjoyable. She told stories, from the set of Stargate SG-1 and Supernatural, and joked around with the host; she talked about her upcoming projects (although the future is very unknown with the writer’s strike going on) and how she’d been thinking about the future and what she wants to do next, how she’s told her agents that she wants to act again. That was very exciting to everyone. She also shared quite a lot about her life, like stories from quarantine times and how she prepares for these events and recovers after, and it was so lovely and such an honour to get a little glimpse into her world. The one thing that I felt was missing was any talk of Sanctuary, especially as her most recent starring role and a project that was such a world unto itself, driven by this small, emotionally invested circle. It would’ve made the experience perfect to hear a couple of stories from that time. I kept waiting for her to mention it or someone to ask a question about it but nobody did. I’d finally gathered the courage to put my hand up and ask a question about it (I can’t remember what it was now – probably something about how it differed to other shows she’s been a part of or about the character of Helen Magnus, another of my absolute favourite characters of all time) but it was too late; we’d run out of time and they weren’t taking anymore questions. But it was fine. The day had been amazing and the fact that I’d even considered asking a question was a really big deal. Maybe next time I go to a similar event, I’ll actually manage to ask one.

So, yes. As I said, it was an amazing day and an amazing experience, despite all of my anxiety around. It took me a while to process it all but when I finally felt like I could put at least some of it into words, I posted this…

When Amanda’s talk finished, Mum and I got going, heading back to the station and catching the train towards Manchester. Having been accepted by the Autism Dogs charity, we wanted to go to their fundraiser the next day to show our support and our gratitude. It was a bit of a trek though, especially after such a long, emotional day. I’d planned to work on the train but I was so tired that I ended up putting my head down on the table and sleeping for more than two hours. Oops.

It was pouring with rain when we arrived – absolutely tipping it down – and since our hotel didn’t do dinner, we picked up fish and chips and the hotel was really lovely and accommodating in letting us eat in our room. I was still falling asleep, literally wherever I stopped (like leaning on the bannister while the hotel staff member retrieved plates and cutlery for us); I barely made it through my dinner. We ended the day watching one of the Sanctuary episodes I had on my laptop (and were properly weirded out, watching Amanda with long, dark hair after just talking to her in person with short, blonde hair). We were both asleep early, probably by ten and definitely by eleven.


SUNDAY

Exhausted from the day before, it was a struggle to wake up early but I did eventually manage to force myself out of bed. The shower was super slippery and I nearly fell over several times, which was a bit scary, but I did survive – just – and then ran around like a headless chicken as I got myself ready and packed up. The cab was already waiting when I was done but then I got lost twice on my way out of the hotel. So… not the most graceful beginning to a day.

My Mum and I spent the morning at the Autism Dogs fundraiser, which was really enjoyable. We ate cake, met some gorgeous dogs, and watched the dogs compete in some very adorable competitions, including waggiest tale and several rounds of musical sits. It was all very cute.

The event being so far away meant that we didn’t know anyone there (apart from a few people from Autism Dogs) but we met a really nice family and ended up spending most of our time chatting to them (and their gorgeous dog). It was a really nice morning.

Then it was back to the station, a really long wait for the train, and a long series of trains home. The only thing of note was a really adorable corgi on one of them. I could definitely see myself having a corgi. But beyond that, it was long and cold and monotonous. I was completely exhausted – physically, mentally, and emotionally – so I didn’t manage to do anything on the journey; I ended up alternating between scrolling through social media and sitting back with my eyes closed.

Getting home was a great relief. It had been a really good weekend but, as exhausted as I was and needing to process everything that had happened, I really needed some time in my safe space without loads of people around. I was delighted to see the cats too; I hate being away from them. I went to bed ridiculously early and was asleep in minutes.


This post is – clearly – quite late. To be honest, I wasn’t sure if anyone cared, a fear that I often have about this blog, especially in my lower moments. But this blog really matters to me so I’m trying to ignore those whispers. This was a really cool week where some really special things happened and so I came back to it and pushed myself to get it done. I hope you enjoyed it, or at least found it interesting. It’s kind of funny; I think these are the posts where you can potentially learn the most about me but because they’re so busy, with so much happening in each one, that fact sometimes goes unnoticed. I don’t know. Maybe that’s just my runaway brain overthinking.

I hope you’re all doing well.