The First Semester of my Masters Degree

Now that I’ve finished my assessments, I thought it might be an interesting idea to sit down and write about my experience of the first semester of my Masters Degree. Because I’m doing it part time (mainly to protect my mental health), I’m only doing one module rather than two, which is what the full-timers do. The module I did was called ‘Creative Process’ and it was four hours of uni time, a two hour seminar where we talked about different areas of the creative process and then a two hour workshop where we played the songs we’d written based on the ideas and concepts we’d talked about the week before. It was a really interesting module and I wish my mental health had been better so that I could’ve focussed and enjoyed it more.

I feel really lucky when it came to my group and my tutor.

My group was only about nine people (when the other groups were much larger as far as I know) and they were all absolutely lovely. We were all really different, both musically and life experience wise (but I guess that’s what happens when you get to Masters level), which was really interesting when it came to writing and socialising and… just everything. It was a completely new experience and one that I’m really grateful for. Up until now, I’ve mostly been surrounded by people my own age with similar experiences.

Everyone was so, so good, all in their own way. They all had their own style (some had particularly beautiful musical signatures, some wrote from interesting perspectives with thoughtful lyrics, and so on) and it was so interesting and exciting to see how they developed over the semester. We were and I know will continue to be so supportive of each other’s music and development as songwriters. It always felt safe to bring in something I felt unsure or insecure about and the feedback was always constructive and because the person wanted you to get better; I never once felt like someone was being mean or looking down on me. It was such a supportive atmosphere and I’m so grateful because I think that was a huge part of what helped me to grow so much as a writer.

I made two really good friends in particular, both of whom I’m still in the same group with to my absolute delight. They’re truly beautiful souls. One of them, Luce Barka, wrote this amazing song during the semester and has said she’s happy for me to share it with you guys. I really, really recommend it…

I also had a fantastic tutor, Isobel. She’s a really cool, independent singersongwriter, which I think made her an especially good teacher because she’s very immersed in the industry we’re all trying to get into, in her own, distinctive way. She’s also dealt with serious health problems (which she has talked about publicly so I’m not breaking her confidence or anything) so I felt like she was a really good tutor, especially for me. She understood, or had a kind of understanding, of what I deal with. She was a really, really great tutor, in discussions and when giving and guiding feedback. But for me personally – and this is my blog after all – she was incredible when it came to helping me manage the course against all of my issues. When my anxiety was overwhelming, she helped me adjust the tasks to make them easier while still allowing me to do the task and learn the skills. I am massively appreciative of how accommodating and generous and kind she was, even before  she received the Student Support Agreement (the document with all my information and recommendations).

Anyway, she was amazing. I learned so much, obviously from the course but also from the way she delivered it and the feedback she gave me. I feel like I’ve grown so much as a writer and I feel like she’s a really big part of that. Plus, I’ve never had a teacher who was so understanding, who helped without hesitation, with just my word to guide her. I can’t properly express how much I appreciate that. It’s never happened to me before and it felt so wonderful to be treated as if it was something you just do, rather than being made to feel like a burden or an obstacle to be manoeuvred. So, as much as I learned (and I learned a lot), that is what I’m most grateful for and one of the things that I will always remember about this semester.

The first few weeks were really, really tough. After my massive meltdown in Victoria station, I was having meltdowns every day (as I wrote about here), which was having a big impact on my mental and emotional health, also leaving me physically exhausted. That significant meltdown was triggered by an email from the Disability Coordinator (who was also an Autism Specialist), suggesting a very last minute change of plan for our scheduled meeting which still leaves me bewildered. As an autistic person, sudden changes of plan are known to be highly problematic. That, plus my existing anxiety, caused a massive meltdown that took a very long time to recover from. And it left me feeling less than confident in her ability to support me even though we had had a positive first meeting and I had left feeling cautiously optimistic that this time it might be different. It then didn’t improve as actions promised at that meeting didn’t get done, leading to more meltdowns. So that was a real complication and painful part of the semester.

Having said all of that, I loved the classes. We learned about songcraft, collaborating, imposter syndrome, professional practice, perfectionism, and so much more. It was fascinating and fun and the briefs, while often stressful (with only a week to write the song), were interesting and challenging. I wrote some songs that I’m really proud of and I feel like my songwriting grew a lot because the briefs were challenging.

We watched this video in one of the classes and I thought it was really good so I thought I’d share it:

I loved it – loved getting better at songwriting – even the bits that pushed me and made me feel uncomfortable.

However, out of class was another matter. We were expected to do research that would later become the foundations of our assessment essay and presentation. Except whenever I asked, they wouldn’t tell me what the assessment entailed and just said it was ‘self directed learning’ so I didn’t know what I was actually researching, which caused me terrible anxiety. I created a reading list of books, articles, and interviews about creativity and songwriting but as hard as I tried to do the work, my OCD – my need to write everything down – battled against it. And usually won. So if I wasn’t writing, I was reading. I had no downtime. I was constantly anxious, like, end-of-the-world-anxious. And I felt like I was failing.

They explained the essay and presentation in the last couple of weeks but I still didn’t really understand. The language was complicated and vague and while I understood the general idea, the grading criteria was pretty ambiguous. I didn’t know what I had to do specifically to get good grades. I need clarity. It was incredibly stressful.

It took a couple of last minute meetings with my module leader to really understand what was expected of me but I was now facing a myriad of problems. The research I had been doing had little relevance to the subject I was writing about so I’d have to redo all of that, as well as actually write the essay and prepare the presentation. Plus we were in the final two weeks of the semester and the university would soon be closed for the Christmas holidays so I would have no way of contacting anyone for any support. I was wound so tight I felt like my spine might snap. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I’m really grateful for those meetings but I just wish the assessment had been clearer earlier in the module so the research I was doing could’ve been more focussed. With all the problems associated with Autism, like chronic fatigue and chronic pain, time is something I have to be incredibly thoughtful about.

I worked every day of the entire holiday (apart from Christmas Day, which I spent with my family – something I don’t often get to do) but the assessments were always in my head so I felt like I couldn’t take a break or have any time to rest and recharge. I still didn’t feel sure that I was doing it right but still, I worked hard on it and gave it everything I had. I finished both the essay and the presentation with time to spare, allowing myself time to redraft and prepare, giving myself the best chance of doing well. I submitted the essay, despite big technical problems with the system, and I did my presentation to the best of my ability, despite finding presentations incredibly difficult. Now I just have to wait for the marks.

Now, having run through the whole semester (and having reflected a lot on the difficulties), I just wanted to share a couple of specific, positive experiences:

  • For one of the early seminars, we had a guest tutor, who works primarily as an expert in Personal Transformation, come and talk to us. Because we were such a small group, he was able to really talk to each of us about our lives and our creative struggles. Considering how little we knew each other at the time, it was amazing how open everyone was and I think it’s part of the reason we became so close and supportive as a group. It was a real bonding experience to hear all of these personal stories and I personally felt really honoured to be part of it, to have been trusted with those stories.
  • One week I brought in a song that I was really proud of. It had a repeated line in it – “it’ll get easier” – and everyone picked it up really quickly, singing along and harmonising. It was beautiful and emotional and it was one of the most special moments of the semester for me.
  • During my research, I found a quote by Paul Gardner that I’m endlessly inspired and intrigued and excited by: “A painting is never finished – it simply stops in interesting places.” There are so many things that could mean. What do you think it means? Or what does it mean to you about a particular thing in your life?

Overall, it was a very mixed bag. The good moments were great and made me feel amazing. I got a lot out of it. But I spent a lot – A LOT – of the semester in crippling anxiety and I had a lot of meltdowns. It was fucking hard. And the marks haven’t even come back yet. I’m terrified that I’ve done horribly. But I’m trying not to think about it. I’m just trying to get through this new semester. Which may be even more stressful than the last.

2019 in Review

I don’t even know how to sum up this year.

If I’m honest, most of it’s blurry. The first half of it anyway. I was still trying medication after medication so I was kind of living in a haze. It’s scary to look back at a time not that long ago, search for memories and not be able to find them, find the details. Or worse, not even know what memories to look for. I hate it and it’s scary and I try not to think about it. Thank god for photos though. Looking back through my photos helped me to remember and I’m grateful for that. 

I got to go to the opening night of Waitress The Musical and to my complete surprise, Sara Bareilles was there, both to introduce the show and to bid us all goodnight. The show was amazing: I loved the music, I loved the characters, I loved the story, and the meaning in the story. And seeing Sara Bareilles in person for the first time since 2014 was extra special.

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I also got up stupid early to see her do a surprise set in St Pancras station. Apart from the fact that she has an incredible singing voice and is a great performer, even just sitting at a piano, there’s something magical about seeing a person you admire so much in real life. And my Mum was a trooper, running after her team (my medication meant I could barely stand up for the whole performance) and making sure she got my letter. So that was a good morning, even if I felt very unwell for the rest of the day (I’d overstretched, given the meds I was taking).

We had a nerve-wracking few weeks where our dog, Lucky, was incredibly unwell. I saw it happen: his head just tilted to the side and he stood there, looking so… wrong. I was convinced he was having a stroke. Plus his eyes were moving back and forth really quickly; I couldn’t imagine how he could even see. Despite a trip to the emergency vet then and there, we didn’t find out until the next day that he had Geriatric Vestibular Disease, which is basically vertigo. He was really, really sick. He wouldn’t eat and that’s really the sign that a labrador is sick. Mum was feeding him pieces of boiled chicken by hand just to keep him going. They gave him a morphine patch but that just made him sicker so they eventually removed it. It took a long time but eventually he was back to his old self. It’s not the same: he has a permanent head tilt, his balance is terrible, he can have trouble walking. But he seems to be happy and he’s certainly loved. So we’re getting through. Day by day, we’re getting through.

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I was fortunate enough to go to Nashville again, which was amazing, even though I was really, really struggling on my medication. I was depressed, overwhelmingly anxious, and my hands felt thick and clumsy, making playing guitar a real ordeal. As wonderful as it was to be in Nashville, I felt very guilty for not being as happy as I felt I should be.

Having said that, I had some really great experiences while I was there. I got to go back to my favourite places, see two Song Suffragettes shows (which are always such special experiences for me), and hang out with my friends who I only get to see once a year. I didn’t get to see everyone but I had a lovely time with the people I saw. I even got to see the awesome Caylan Hays play a show and hear all of her new songs. That was really, really special.

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Tin Pan South was amazing as usual, although I had to make some tough decisions over which shows to go to. They were all amazing though. My favourite was Nick Wayne, Hannah Ellis, Josh Kerr, and Natalie Hemby. Natalie is another person I hugely admire and she actually knows who I am now, which I’m honoured by. We got to have a proper conversation, which was one of my favourite moments of the trip. And I’d love to write with her one day: that’s a bucket list write.

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I also got to see Kelly Clarkson (who I’ve always, ALWAYS wanted to see live) in concert and Kelsea Ballerini was the opener, which was awesome because I love her. It was an amazing concert and I loved every second of it.

It was an amazing trip but I hope that next year I’ll be in a better place, a place where I can enjoy it properly and effortlessly. I think that’s gonna be one of my goals for 2020.

Here at home I also got to see some amazing concerts. My favourites were Maren Morris (I saw her twice but the second time was front row at the Royal Albert Hall, which was the most surreal, amazing experience) and Ingrid Andress, who had the whole crowd singing despite only having released a few singles. It was amazing. And she remembered me and we talked about writing together when I’m next in Nashville, although I’m now not sure it’s going to happen. But it was amazing to know that she was up for it. Hopefully one day.

I also saw Halsey in a super small venue and she was fantastic. We had trouble with the accessibility, which caused me a lot of anxiety, but the show was incredible. She’s an amazing, amazing performer. I love her. But I feel very out of place at her concerts, which is hard.

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I, with Richard Sanderson (Richard Marc on social media), spent most of the year working on my first EP. It was such a learning curve but I loved it, for the most part. It took an exceptional amount of work and I have to give so much credit to Richard and to Josh Fielden who mixed the songs because part way through, I tumbled into a really deep depression, accompanied with the worst anxiety I think I’ve ever experienced. It took a long time for me to get back to a place where I could work on it. It’s part of my musical story so I’m really glad it’s coming out, even if I still have a lot of anxiety about it. If you’ve been following this blog, you’ll know the story of the first single and you’ll know more about the rest of the songs soon.

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I spent several months in a deep, deep depression, the worst I’ve ever experienced. I basically lay on the sofa and thought about dying. It was awful. I don’t really know what else to say about it. It was just still, but with a mess of agonising turmoil underneath.

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Then, in the middle of the summer, one of my cats had kittens, despite the vet telling us in her vet check the week before that she absolutely wasn’t pregnant. We came home from dinner and Mouse was waiting for us. She took me upstairs to my room, curled up in one of the cat beds, and over the next few hours, she had a couple of tiny, adorable kittens. She got distressed every time I tried to leave so I stayed through the whole thing (and saw some pretty disgusting stuff that I never needed to see).

Having the kittens in my life has done wonders for my anxiety. Watching them grow and play and explore was so calming and mindful for me. And now that they’re older, all five cats play as a family. They’re a pride. It’s gorgeous. I don’t know what the future holds but having them in my life has been one of the most, if not the most, positive thing this year. I’m really, really grateful for them. Having said that, everyone’s spayed now so there won’t be any more surprises, which is probably – definitely – a good thing, as adorable as kittens are. The stress is just too much.

Somewhere in the middle of the holidays of kittens, I started taking Phenelzine again, which was a really difficult decision. I’m still struggling with the side effects but I am better than I was. I still have moments of depression but it’s not constant and I’m managing the anxiety with other medications. And best of all, I can write songs again. That is the best possible outcome.

September loomed and I spent time with the Disability Coordinator at my uni, something they had never had before. I actually felt hopeful about having someone who understood me. And then, she became extremely unreliable and that resulted in one of the worst meltdowns I’ve ever had – in the middle of Victoria Station. That triggered a period of multiple meltdowns a day, which turned the weeks into a blur. It was awful. I started my Masters Degree in Songwriting in one of the worst states I’ve ever been in.

Despite being part time, the Masters took up every day of the week, working on songs and trying to research while battling my OCD, which had suddenly spiked. I had no time off, no time to breathe. I felt like I was failing at everything. I think I’ve gotten better at managing it (and it’s going to be a focus in therapy when we start again in the new year) and I managed some research and I wrote some songs I’m really proud of. I enjoyed the course and classes but balancing everything with Autism and mental health problems was a nightmare. I’m going to write a post about the course in more detail but it still needed to be included in this post.

Oh, and somewhere in there, I turned twenty five. My Mum bought me twenty five yellow roses.

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The first single of the EP came out a few weeks into the course and it was a complete surreal – if incredibly stressful – experience. I had no idea what to expect, especially since I’m an independent artist, but for what was really a first, first single (considering ‘Invisible’ had no marketing and so on), I think it did pretty well. It got added to several playlists on Spotify and had radio play, local and BBC Introducing. That’s been amazing and I’m excited to see where the next one goes.

And now I’m finishing the year with basically no Christmas break because I’m working on the assessments for my course everyday. They’re causing me so much stress I feel like I can’t breathe. I’m also terrified of the fireworks tonight (another story I’ve talked about before) and don’t know what I’m going to do to avoid them because I have work to do and they cause awful meltdowns. So, all in all, not the best way to end the year. I’m cautiously optimistic about 2020.

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“2019 has been an incredibly difficult year. I feel broken. I feel like I was shattered into a thousand pieces and then put back together wrong. And if I’m honest I don’t know what to do about it. But there were good moments too and I’m so grateful for those. 2020, please be kind.” (x)

I’ve Been Re-diagnosed With OCD

If you guys follow me on social media, you’ll know that this week, I posted about going back to therapy and being rediagnosed with OCD…

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I’m back at therapy! And this is one of my therapist’s dogs who thinks she’s small enough to sit in my lap. Anyway. I never deliberately stopped going but our schedules have been very difficult to align for a while, particularly with me starting my Masters, and so it’s been a good several months since I’ve had a session. I almost feel like I’ve forgotten how to do it, do therapy. But I’m back and hopefully it will help with my anxiety, which has been severe for a while now. And on that note, I’ve been rediagnosed with OCD! I’m gonna write more about this in a blog post soon but this is really good for me. I have a plan of action. It’s gonna be a long road and I am anxious about it but I feel better knowing what the treatment options are, some of which I’m already doing. So despite feeling very unwell, it’s been a positive week. It’s progress.

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So, that basically explains what’s been going on with therapy (I’ll update you on all of that as I continue with therapy) but I wanted to talk a bit more about the OCD diagnosis because that’s kind of a big deal.

Back in 2016, I was diagnosed with depression, anxiety, social anxiety, OCD, and BPD. And then I was diagnosed with ASD. But in the last year, my psychiatrist reorganised my diagnoses and decided that the symptoms he’d originally seen as OCD fell under some of the other diagnoses, particularly the ASD. But recently, it’s become very clear that it really is OCD.

If you remember this post, I talked about having a massive meltdown, which triggered daily, multiple meltdowns. It was awful and one of the most difficult periods of my life, mental health wise and otherwise: dealing with that and trying to manage the beginning of a Masters. It was pretty hellish. I’m not sure when it stopped but it slowly faded and I’m now only having a meltdown every couple of weeks or so – still a bit more than usual but much more manageable.

But that really triggered something in my obsessive diary writing. My diary writing has been pretty compulsive for years: I NEED to write everything down. It’s like, if I don’t record everything that happens to me, I’ll forget who I am. It’s a constant battle, but it suddenly went from manageable to completely overwhelming. It takes up all my time or it would if I didn’t have all this research to do for my Masters. So these two things are  constantly pushing up against each other, which causes me a lot of anxiety. But the diary writing usually wins, which only causes me more anxiety, anxiety that I’m going to do badly in my Masters. And even though I know all of this, I still can’t stop writing. And because there’s more life than there is time to write, I’m just getting more and more behind. More anxiety. So I’m just a big ball of anxiety. It’s like a snowball rolling down a hill, getting bigger and bigger and going faster and faster.

It took forever to get an appointment with my psychiatrist (so the anxiety has gone on a lot longer than was necessary or fair, in my opinion), but eventually I got an appointment. And of course, the time was then changed last minute, the sudden change of plan sent me spiralling into a meltdown. So it took a long time but I finally saw him and we talked about all of this in great detail and he decided to re-diagnose me with OCD. I’m so relieved because now it has edges; it’s not some vague, amorphous cloud of stress hanging over me. A diagnosis gives me something to work with.

We talked about the treatment options, medication and therapy. Medication wise, I’m already taking the things he would recommend so that’s that avenue covered. I don’t know much about the therapy route yet. As far as I know, I’ll have to reduce the writing bit by bit, which – in itself – is going to create more anxiety. Hurray. Not. It’s the whole ‘it’s gotta get worse before it gets better.’ But now I’m back in therapy and I have an amazing therapist so although I’m terrified of even more anxiety, I know I’ll have thoughtful, compassionate guidance. I don’t know when we’ll start because, as my psychiatrist pointed out, right before a set of assessments isn’t necessarily the most productive or helpful time to do this sort of stuff. But even though I’m scared, I need to start working on this soon or every semester is going to be like this one: a daily battle of OCD versus real life. And I really, really don’t want that.

Bad Night – Out Now!

I’m very late in letting you guys know but my new single, ‘Bad Night,’ is now available to buy/stream/listen to in whatever format you listen to music to!


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laurenalexhooper: AND IT’S OUT! ‘BAD NIGHT’ IS FINALLY OUT!⁣

I’ve been waiting to release this song for so long that it’s oddly surreal to have it out in the world. I wrote it, with the help of @richardmarcmusic, after a particularly difficult night where I just felt completely overwhelmed by my depression. I felt like it was never going to get better. So I do what I always do and wrote a song about it. And eventually it turned into this. Even though it’s a difficult song, I hope you like it and I hope it makes you feel something.

Please, please, please buy/stream it. It would mean the world to me and all the wonderful people who’ve worked on it. You can find it here.


I’m truly sorry that it’s taken me so long to update you guys. After the whole process of ‘Invisible,’ I (and my writing/releasing/everything musical partner) decided to release the song independently and I found all of the aspects of that very stressful. So getting the song out was a mission in itself and then there were the decisions about what social media boosting to employ and it all just took every ounce of everything I had. By the end of that week, I was completely exhausted. And let’s not forget we were both just starting our Masters Degrees.

And then, to make things worse, I had possibly the worst Autism/mental health week of my life (just so you know, I sometimes combine them because I find them hard to extricate, not because I don’t know that they’re not the same thing). As I mentioned in my previous post, I’ve been having A LOT of meltdowns. It had come down to a couple a week but then I had week where I had multiple a day and it was just hideous. I’ll write more about it (hopefully) and meltdowns in general in the future but that put ‘Bad Night’ the furthest from my mind for a moment.

It’s hard to believe that it’s only been about two weeks since the song came out. It feels like a lifetime. But having said that, the journey is far from over. There is a lot of content still to come. A spoiler for you special people: keep an eye on my socials over the next couple of days. Something is coming… Okay, that sounds a lot creepier than it is.

I promise this blog won’t become simply an avenue for me to talk about my music (although much of my music is inspired by my mental health and so does have some relevance). It is just a massive part of my life right now, taking up a lot of my time and focus, as is my Masters, which is also all about music. I’m trying to find a balance but I’m struggling since my mental health has been so bad. I’m barely (and sometimes not) getting done what I need to be getting done so it’s all very chaotic and emotional and difficult right now. Just know that I’m trying my best. I’ll get there, I promise.

A Lot Has Been Happening

My sincerest apologies for not posting in so long. Life has been hectic and difficult and busy and strange. It’s been really difficult to write, to write anything at all (apart from my diary, which I’ll explain in a minute) so I just had to give myself a break from posting here and hope that you guys would understand. It’s just been too much. I don’t think I’m ‘back,’ but hopefully there won’t be such big gaps between posts and maybe we’ll even get back to weekly posts at some point.

So here’s what’s been going on, so you’re all up to date…


TWENTY FIFTH BIRTHDAY

First things first, I turned twenty five. I’m not gonna lie, I was having a bit of a quarter century crisis. There’s a definite milestone about turning eighteen and then twenty one but turning twenty five felt (and still feels) like a big step into adulthood and I’m finding that very scary. I still feel stuck at seventeen: young and naïve and vulnerable. So I’m struggling with it a bit.

The day itself was a struggle. My anxiety is through the roof (which I’ll talk about it in a minute) but theft compulsive writing of my diary (something I’ve struggled with on and off for a long time) has become really extreme, to the point where I’ve been finding it difficult to do anything else. So while I had some really lovely moments on my birthday (twenty five yellow roses from my Mum, some really lovely presents, and dinner with my family), all I could think about was how I should be writing, how I was wasting time that should be spent catching up with my diary. It was very upsetting because there were so many things I’d rather be doing than writing my diary or stressing about it.

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I’ve had a habit of many years to think on my birthday ‘this year will be better’ or ‘this year I’ll be happier.’ But I’m done with that. I’m not going to waste time comparing the ups and downs of the last several years but I never felt as if those statements came true. I always felt as if I was struggling just as much, if not more so, than the year before. So, as I said, I’m done with that. I have no expectations of this year. At the moment I’m too anxious to think beyond the next week or so,   v so I don’t even really feel capable or doing it anyway. It’s all too overwhelming.

Anyway, I’m twenty five. I’m not sure what that means yet. So I guess we’ll see.

I’VE STARTED A MASTERS

Unsurprisingly, it’s in songwriting. I’m doing it part time so I only have half the workload as a traditional Masters student and that has turned out to be absolutely the right choice. At the time, my main reason was because it would allow me to really take in what I was learning and apply it to my songwriting, rather than just absorbing it only to regurgitate it for an exam or coursework piece. And that’s still true but it’s turned out to be completely necessary for my mental health. One day of classes (plus the commuting) requires at least two days of recovery and my mental health, particularly my anxiety, has made it very, very difficult to complete the work required and so having only half the workload and the extra time to do it in has been a blessing.

I’m just about to start week three and so far, I’m really, really enjoying the classes. This first module is about Creative Process, the theory of it and the exploration of our own, and the content we’re covering and discussing is just fascinating. I actually wish the two hour lecture was longer. For example, we just learned about autoethnography (exploring your personal experience and how it connects to wider cultures and experiences and so on) and it’s really hard not to stop my current research and just dive face first into that.

But anyway, the practical songwriting class has been a bit up and down for me personally. My writing massively depends on my mental health and so when I’m really anxious, I find it impossible to write. During the first week, I barely managed to turn in a song but this week, I’ve felt more able to write. I don’t want to comment on the anxiety, on whether it’s passed or not because that just makes my anxiety worse. If it comes back after making a statement like that, it will just be even more of a struggle. So regardless of the anxiety, I’ve felt more able to write and am currently in the middle of my second song. I love writing again and I love having writing briefs to explore and experiment with. So, so far (without the stress of assessment), I’m really enjoying it.

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Also, I have a really small group and so we’re getting to know each other pretty quickly, which is really nice. It’s so inspiring to hear the developing music of others again, as well as getting feedback on your own fresh work. I’ve really missed that.

I’M RELEASING AN EP

WHAT?!

Yes, I’m releasing my first EP. My God, it’s been an emotional complicated process. I’ve gone through so much since I decided I wanted to release an EP last year and I honestly don’t even recognise myself. I’ll talk more about that in a minute but first, let me introduce you to the project…

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And here is my big announcement!⁣ ⁣ Over the next nine months, I will be releasing an EP of five songs. I’ve been waiting to release new music for so long and I’m so emotional about you guys finally hearing these songs. The EP is called ‘Honest’, and I’ve been working with some fantastic people for a long time on these songs so I’m really excited to finally let them find their place in the world. ⁣ ⁣ Keep an eye out because I’ll be sharing more details of the first track next week.⁣ ⁣ ***⁣ ⁣ This EP is essentially a short story, a short story about my experiences with mental health up until now. It’s been difficult and excruciating and frustrating and lonely, but it started getting better when I started writing about it and talking about it, even if it just meant I wasn’t keeping it tightly sealed inside myself. I’ve worked hard to get myself into a better place but I don’t know if the ground will ever truly settle, if I’ll dig up all the landmines. We all have our struggles, our fears, our ghosts but maybe being honest is the first step, whoever it may be with.

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And I’ve just announced the first single…

If you want to get the information as soon as it’s released, you can follow my social medias, which are all listed on the main page of the blog.

I don’t think I could untangle my feelings about the songs if I had thousands of words to do so but I think a big part of that is all the anxiety I’ve been struggling with. Living with extreme anxiety, everything feels like the wrong choice, everything makes me feel sick and useless and miserable. It’s really hard to be excited about releasing something like this, about anything, when I feel like that. So it’s a struggle. I’m trying to be positive and enthusiastic because I have been those things but I’m finding it hard right now. But a lot of hard work and love went into these songs and this project and I am really proud of that.

More details soon!

I’M LIVING IN A MELTDOWN

I was going to write a whole post about this but then all this time passed and it just made sense to include it here.

Just over a month ago, I had the worst meltdown I’ve ever had. In the middle of Victoria train station (for those of you not familiar, one of the biggest train stations in the UK). A big plan had been changed and the new one was vague and I was alone and anxious already. I completely fell apart: sobbing and shaking and hyperventilating. There was nowhere quiet to go so I curled up in a chair, desperate not to be seen, desperate to disappear. I couldn’t think. I didn’t know what to do. And I couldn’t get hold of anyone on the phone so I had no one to give me advice or help me calm down. Eventually I did manage to get hold of my Mum and she had to literally walk me step by step onto a train home, plans abandoned.

Usually it takes me a couple of days to recover from a meltdown, sometimes a week if it was a really bad one. I feel anxious and fragile and raw and completely overwhelmed. But this time, those feelings didn’t go away. Over the last month, I’ve been constantly filled with extreme anxiety, so much so that I’ve been almost unable to function. I’ve felt so fragile and so easily overwhelmed that any new stress has triggered a meltdown, resulting in multiple meltdowns a day: screaming and crying and throwing things. It’s been absolutely hideous. It’s like I’m permanently living in a meltdown, with waves of anxiety and hypersensitivity and then the waves of shouting and crying. I don’t know if that makes sense; I’m still looking for the perfect metaphor, at least for my experience.

So all of this has affected every other part of my life. Sometimes I can push through it and manage what I need to manage and sometimes – a lot of the time right now – I can’t. I’m trying. I’m doing my best.


So now you’re up to date. To a degree. Some of this stuff is really hard to explain, as I’m sure you know if you’ve experienced it or anything like it. There’s a lot going on, a lot of stressful stuff in particular, so life isn’t exactly a cakewalk right now. But as I said, I’m trying.

I hope you’re all well, or at least coping as well as you can. Hopefully I’ll post again soon.

A Little Life Update

Hi guys.

I’m sorry for my extended absence. I never meant to abandon the blog; it’s just been a really, really tough month. I’ve been taking the new medication (or old medication – Phenelzine), which seems to have had no effect other than to upset my stomach. But I’m trying not to give up hope just yet. One of my cats had kittens, which has been incredibly stressful. My depression has reached new lows and I actually started to find it difficult to think at all: sentences would not finish in my brain. It was frustrating and very distressing. I’ve also had quite possibly more meltdowns in the last month than I have had in the previous six. So it’s been hard and writing has just felt impossible. I couldn’t put what I was feeling into words and I didn’t feel like I had anything useful to say, anything anyone wanted to hear.

I don’t quite know what happens now. I love this blog dearly so I have no intention of abandoning it but you may have to be gentle with me as I try to get back to writing. I’m doing my best, I promise.

A Letter Under The Floorboards

Today is exactly a year since we moved house. That was a terrible day. It was stressful and upsetting and exhausting. I had a meltdown when we finally collapsed in the new house (surrounded by boxes and carefully balanced furniture) and neither me nor my Mum slept that night. It was all just too much.

It’s better now. I’m still adjusting, but then I had spent most of my life in that house so I didn’t expect a quick recovery. I’m getting there. My room almost feels like my room.

Since we moved out, we’ve actually learned quite a bit about the history of the house and the people who lived there. Our favourites are two women who lived and worked together their whole lives, the first head and deputy head of Varndean School. We even found pictures of them, which is really cool. We were all weirdly moved to learn these stories.

When we moved out, I wasn’t thinking about the history of the house and our part in it. I was just trying to figure out a way to say goodbye. So I wrote a letter and tucked it under the loose floorboard in my room. It was a letter to any and all future occupants, asking them to look after the house for us, for me. We’re part of the house’s history now and perhaps, one day, someone will find this letter and feel the same way about us as we feel about these two women. And since we live in a technological age and the first step of investigation is to google something, I thought I’d put this out into the internet. Maybe one day they’ll find me.

To whoever finds this,

This has been my bedroom, on and off, for about seventeen years. That’s most of my life. That’s a surreal thought, one that I’m trying not to obsess over. It took a long time to feel okay about moving and I’m scared that thinking too hard about all of it will be the wind that blows me back into that storm. I didn’t think I’d survive it the first time. I don’t want to leave but I don’t want leaving to be a life altering tragedy. I’m trying to remember that I don’t need this room to be me, even if it feels like that sometimes.

A lot has happened in this room, in this house. I grew up here, watched thunderstorms, brought friends over for dinner, celebrated birthdays and Christmases. I wrote stories and songs and my brother learned lines and turned the flickers of ideas into masterpieces. I said a last goodbye to my cat of fifteen years, learned that I could love another one, and then raised two litters of kittens with her. I taught my dog to sit, sneaked him onto the sofa when no one was home, and sang to him while emptying the dishwasher. I studied for GCSEs, A Levels, and my degree. I graduated with a first and I found out in this room. I had my heart broken. I struggled with my health and my mental health. I found out that my Dad had died.

 I worry that leaving this room, this house, means leaving all of those things behind and that I’ll lose myself because of that. It may not be rational but it’s how I feel. I hope that I’ve managed to box all of that up with my belongings but I guess I’ll see when I get to the new house. There’s a little voice in my head that says that the rooms feel empty because we’ve packed all the memories and emotions but I’m scared to believe it.

Maybe this is all too flowery and fluffy for you. That’s fine. A room can be just a room. A house can be just a house. But regardless of whether you see it as four walls or a time capsule, please take care of it for me. For us. We have loved it dearly and hope that you will do the same. Fill it with life (and extra radiators because, as you’ll soon find out, it’s practically impossible to keep it warm). I hope you will feel as safe here as I have.

Look after this place. I’m trusting that you will.

LAH

16/04/18