Hey!

I know, the title is eloquent and beautiful, please, try to hold back the tears at my elegance. It's a daily battle for me, so I feel your pain. 

So, yeah, writer's block sucks balls, that's about the entire basis of this bloggy blog post. SUCH INSPIRING. MUCH WISENESS. I think I may be delirious...

If you read my last post (which you can catch up on here, if you are that way inclined) you'll know I've had a pretty shitty time of it lately. And by shitty I do mean mind-blowingly awful. But I had every intention of just trying to get back into the swing of things, get back to finally writing again, back into trying to get somewhere. And every part of me was ready, except for the part that actually helps me come up with some sort of coherent anything. Basically, my brain has been listening to Russell Brand and is determined to stage a revolution against me and productivity. I've tried talking to it, but it just won't listen to reason, the little shit. 

Here's a list of the things I have done whilst trying to get over my Writer's Block/ things I have done whilst procrastinating like a motherflucker;

1) Watch everything on Netflix.
Whilst trying to do research for the Halloween piece I was going to write (hope you had a good one) I was steadily working my way through the good, the bad and the ugly on Netflix. It was a dirty job, but someone had to do it. You are welcome for my sacrifice. Only problem was, when it came to actually writing about the damn films I had no words. I typed the same thing over and over and it made no sense and then I just lost any words. I did continue to watch the films though, I am very dedicated. Maybe I'll do some reviews on the Netflix good, bad and ugly. Because I have seen a lot of ugly. 

2) No, seriously, I am watching everything on Netflix.
It is both a curse and a gift. And it is painfully addictive. And I should be watching it now.

3) Creep over attractive men on Suits.
Has anyone else watched this show?! It is AMAZING. And everyone dresses like a bloody model. And they all look like models. Holy crap. I just don't understand how everyone is that attractive. Shout out to Louis Litt (the only non-model type) for being my favourite character of life. My boyfriend is deeply in love with him. 

Look at them!

4) Rearrange all the furniture in the house.
I got a desk to inspire/ force me to do some damn writing and what it led to was me moving all the furniture I could and being unable to sit down until my study looked like Pinterest threw up on it. I have so many candles burning, I'm causing a small hole in the ozone layer, but it's all so Tumblr I could cry tears of happiness. 

So Tumblr. So Pinterest. So pretty. And you bet your ass I Instagrammed that shit!

5) Obsessively clean the flat.
I'm already a bit of nightmare on this front. I can't let a plate or rubbish sit for longer than 10 minutes without having to get up and put it away, whilst complaining loudly. I think such tidiness is admirable, according to the boy it is 'obsessive and annoying and can you please stop shouting at me?!'. Honestly. 

6) Watch 4,000,000 YouTube videos.
I am already borderline obsessed (totally not borderline, totally obsessed) with YouTube, but when I'm meant to be doing anything else it becomes like crack to me. I may not have written anything BUT I can do an excellent smokey eye makeup, I've seen a baby monkey ride a pig AND I've seen the trailers for all the films coming out in the foreseeable future. And also trailers for films that were released over the past 10 years. And the Avengers: Age of Ultron trailer about 2,000,000 times. It is bloody beautiful!

7) Stare at the ceiling moodily whilst listening to meaningful songs on Spotify.
I disgust myself.

8) Dance like a total asshole around the flat before realising that I live on the bottom floor and people can see me.
Everyone's just jealous of my mad skillz and flawless Kanye rapping. 

9) Sleep. A LOT.
My bed just loves me and I love it and DON'T JUDGE ME.

10) Did I mention Netflix?
Netflix is life.

I've just accepted that I cannot force my brain to write sentences that don't make me cry tears of pain, so I've just given the little bastard time to work it's shit out. And I think it's working. For the first time in a while, I've been able to write something and finish it. I mean, it's just me rambling on about writer's block, but it's something! And if anything, the massive amounts of Netflix and the YouTube trailer watching have inspired me a bit. Largely I'm thinking, if half that shit can get made then I'm bound to strike it lucky at some point. Here's to positive thinking! So yeah, I did just ramble on about writer's block, but it was therapeutic, so thanks for listening/reading. 

I'll leave it there tonight and I WILL (I hope you heard how forcefully I typed that) talk to you soon! This will happen! In the meantime, you can find me on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram, links all over in the sidebar, I would love to see you there. And if you have any tips to help stop writer's block sucking so many balls, I would be eternally grateful. I hope you're all well, and I'll talk to you soon (yes I will!).

Byeeeeeeeee!

Becca x

I'd really hoped I'd not have to write a post like this for at least another 50-100 years. I am aware that is unrealistic, but a girl can dream.  

It's been a while, but, yet again, I have a reason. I am an unending supply of shitty excuses that I wish I didn't have. I couldn't just go back to writing about films without at least addressing what is one of the most devastating events of my entire life, because that would just be fucking weird. 

I've been going out with my beautiful boy for nearly 10 years. He is my family and accordingly, his family became family too. They are a bunch of wonderful, random, funny human beings and I am very lucky to be able to count myself as part of the madness. 

On 7th September we got a call to say that one of his sisters; one of the brightest, kindest and best people I've ever known, who I was lucky enough to consider a sister too, had taken her own life. There is no way you can even begin to prepare yourself for someone telling you news like that. Tragedy has struck this wonderful family before in 2008, when my boy lost his twin in a car accident. In a way, I'd sort of foolishly convinced myself that nothing else really bad could happen. We'd already been through something so awful, surely nothing else could happen? I was horribly and unbelievably wrong. 
With a car accident, it's something awful and devastating, but at least it's in some way understandable, I guess. Suicide is something you can never in a million years prepare yourself for. Losing someone like this feels like a physical wrench, someone being torn from you and there is fuck all you can do about it. It is such a final act, that leaves nothing but questions, hurt and anger. 

I still have a very hard time believing it really happened, that she is really gone because the notion just seems so ridiculous. She was one of the loudest, bubbliest people I've ever known. You could hear her laugh and her voice from a mile a way, and I'm tempted to say that literally because girlfriend was LOUD. And that was one of the things I loved about her, there was no being discreet, everything was upfront and in your face. Yet it's this irony that makes the whole thing so hard to understand. This wonderful woman would tell you everything, regardless of whether you wanted to hear it or not. The amount of awkward conversations we had, her brother cringing away in the corner trying to cover his ears so he didn't hear all the details, is both hilarious and appalling. But when it came to telling us the things that mattered, she couldn't, words failed her. She constructed this almost perfect image. She had 3 wonderful kids, she'd lost loads of weight, she'd got a new house, she was going out and having fun, she was going to New York, she posted endless inspiration quotes on Facebook, and yet inside, that image couldn't have been further from the truth. And it causes me an actual physical pain that she went to that much effort to construct a picture of perfection, rather than being able to say 'look, I need help'. The last conversation we had, she told me how happy she was, and remembering that makes me so confused, angry and hurt. And sad. Sometimes I feel such grief that it feels like I can't breathe. Nothing makes sense to me anymore. It hasn't quite hit me as real yet. I feel like we're all free-falling and just waiting for the inevitable crash, when we'll realise that she's actually gone.

Losing someone like this hits me a little closer to home, because I know the thought pattern that goes along with depression. We had spoken about how she had struggled in the past, but she kept saying that it was getting better, and I guess that it's that part that I'm struggling with. I am so angry at her, and it hurts to say that, but I am so fucking pissed off. And it's not rational, I know, because I can understand what she must've been thinking, but on a selfish note, she knew she could've talked to any of us.  I'll indulge myself in my anger for a while; I'll curse at her, I'll rant at her and then all of a sudden that self-indulgent anger is cut short because I'll remember the reality. Then, just like that, the grief will smack me in the chest, face, stomach, with all the grace of a tonne of bricks. And it hurts everywhere. 

This feeling of waiting for the reality to hit is an uncomfortable one. You carry on with everyday life, you laugh and joke like it's all okay. And then you remember. Every time I laugh, it feels like it's coming from someone else. I feel like I'm looking at myself from the outside and I hear this stupid fake laugh and I hate myself a little. And yet, if I'm left alone she is the first place my head goes to and it hurts. I am a mass of contradictions. I want to be alone, but at the same time I am so scared of being left to my thoughts. 

I don't have the words to fully say how this hurts and I don't think I'll ever be able to understand what has happened. All I know, is that we lost part of our family and it has destroyed us a little. All we have are questions, shock, anger and grief, and to be left with that and nothing else is an insult to how fabulous Kellie was. 

If you are struggling at all, in any way, please, please tell someone. I am literally begging you. Save your loved ones this grief. I'm not trying to make you feel guilty for wanting to do it, I understand the temptation when your head tries to convince you, but it's not worth it. You can be helped, you can be saved, you just need to give someone the chance. 

We lost a beautiful, wonderful, funny woman. The kind of person who laughed first, who talked loudest, who'd speak to anyone, who made you feel welcome and loved, who put her family above all, who loved her children fiercely, who was an awesome friend, who was loyal and remarkable. She deserves a legacy so much bigger than someone who lost a battle to depression. She deserved so much better. 

I'll link some helpline numbers and information here and here. Even if you just want to talk to me, you can find my information on the side or in the 'Contact' section. There's no judgement, only understanding. 

I hope you're all well, and if you're not, I hope you talk to someone. Ask yourself everyday, 'Am I Okay?' and if the answer is ever 'No', tell someone. You are too important to not give yourself a chance.

I want to try and get back into writing, try and get back in the rhythm of life, otherwise I'll feel forever stuck in this little snapshot of grief and horror, and I can't cope with that. So hopefully, I'll chat to you all soon. Be safe and be well.

Becca.