It’s February: the most romantic month of the year. Hence, renaming it Februromantary, because it is as accurate as it is catchy.
2019 is fast coming to an end. This year has honestly been one of the best I’ve had in a long time, and I can sum up my feelings for it in two words: Busy and Proud.
Good news everyone- yer gurl is getting feelings again. I am no longer an emotionless robot. It is terrifying.
Today is a sad day. A day of distraught. Of tears. Of loss. A day filled with misery, ending with crippling loneliness and despair. For today is the day that I am not allowed to watch EastEnders. And I am heartbroken.
Two days ago, I turned 31. But don’t worry, I’m still ridiculously attractive.
Honestly, what a babe.
No, I’m not Josh Hartnett. I’m much sexier. However, I did also have an agonising experience that lasted 40 days and 40 nights, and it did also involve vaginas. Maybe I am him. I call this story: The Tale of the Late Period.
Last year, I spent a lot of time receiving mixed signals from men I was interested in. They were hot, they were cold, they were yes, they were no, they were Katy Perry, they weren’t Katy Perry. It was all a tad confusing. However, maybe it wasn’t all their fault.
So I’m in Los Angeles for the week visiting my pal and seeing the sights and shit. It’s hella good. Do you know what’s not good?! LIES. Let me tell you a wee story.
Well, almost. Yes, we are fast approaching my absolute favourite day of the year. Despite being ridiculously single, and have been for the last 4 Valentine’s Days, I still absolutely love this day, because I’m a massive romantic and love that this is essentially a free pass to go as wild as you like with your affection showers. And boy, do I go wild! Anyway, with V-Day creeping up around the corner, and writing my show, I’ve been thinking a lot about my attitude to love and relationships and how this is developing and growing.
I’ve been having a bit of a wild week. I’ve had several panic attacks, the worst I’ve ever had, and also had a new experience with paralysing anxiety. I’ve never had that before! It was wild! I literally couldn’t move because my anxiety was through the roof. However, ten minutes later after I recovered, I was dancing around my bedroom to Altered Images. I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again: borderline personality disorder is a fucking rollercoaster. A rollercoaster of fun!