The Year of Celebration

It’s 24 days into 2018 and I’m only now sharing my new year’s resolutions. I am, however, giving myself a pass because mine aren’t just for one year, they’re for 26. Since university, I haven’t planned my life more than a few months ahead. I thought I was a free spirit, but I now believe it was indicative of the opposite – one caged by fear. One that’s scared to plan and be disappointed; terrified to make goals, in case I miss the goalposts. The letter A is for... x While I had an incredible past year of achievements, I experienced something akin to daily stress fractures on my brain, which created fissures and cracks in my mind triggering mania and depression in rapid cycles. Now, I have chosen to unlock the cage: I’m committing myself fully to my creative endeavours all while travelling wherever this wild spirit finds itself drawn to, because that spirit was slowly dying. I was not in a good way. Now, here I am with the vastness of life stretched out before me. These e...

'Hidden Damage'  Ring the bells that still can ring Forget your perfect offering  There is a crack, a crack in everything  That's how the light gets in. - Leonard Cohen Kintsugi ("golden joinery" or "golden repair") is the Japanese art form of repairing broken pottery with gold. It treats the breakage and repair of the item as part of its history, its journey, its existence. Rather than hiding the damage, it brightly illuminates the repair, inviting the world to see its improved beauty. Just like pottery, we humans can crack, splinter, break, shatter. These knocks remain part of our being and, whilst a brave face might create a temporary disguise, nobody can hide forever. At least I couldn't. To heal, I found I had to expose. Kintsugi treats the crack as merely an event in the life of the object, not a reason to end it. Kintsugi knows that something is more beautiful for having been broken. As someone who considers them...

It's been a few weeks now - as it usually is between my blog posts and I know I must change. I will change. I have to now! Because I've been named in The Bermudian Magazine 's Best of Bermuda 2017 awards as Best Columnist/Blogger. And when you're neglecting your blog as much as I am, the guilt is accentuated when you win an award for something you're neglecting. Yes, I've been writing columns about Pepper Spray and Women's Rights , which I must admit is much more frightening than blogging about the inner workings of my troubled mind. I received very good advice once, "Don't look down." This applies equally to tightroping over a cliff as to when you've written an opinion piece and are terrified of the comments (read: trolls). I've been struggling with mania for months now, which is the opposite to my usual long bouts of depression. But I know the causes: it's lack of sleep, it's too much caffeine, it's lots of stress, ...

Today my first of my new opinion column was published by The Royal Gazette. I named it The Restless Native in respect of my nomadic nature that often competes with the love I have for my island home. The article "No Loose Change, Only Loose Heartstrings" can be found on the website here . I had considered calling it The Reckless Native in homage to my wayward ways, but thought those stories are best saved for the book!

" The purpose of life is not to be happy. It is to be useful, to be honorable, to be compassionate, to have it make some difference that you have lived and lived well." - Ralph Waldo Emerson Since my birthday post  much has happened: I've been to New York, then back again to Bermuda and now I have been back in London for three weeks. Moved into a new flat. Suffered from the flu. Done a bit of work. Submitted some writing to literary agents (fingers crossed). Definitely not been blogging (note to self: must work on consistency). I suppose the most intense experience of the last couple of weeks has been appearing on the BBC Breakfast red sofa again to discuss my experiences with Bipolar II disorder. NICE (National Institute for Health and Care Excellence) released new guidelines to assist health practitioners in diagnosing and managing Bipolar disorder earlier, especially in young people. The current average length between first complaints of symptoms to di...

At the end of 2010, after a year in the Premier's Office, I decided that I was out of politics. Not necessarily for good, but I was broken. On my first day in my position as Assistant to the Premier The Royal Gazette covered my appointment on page three. No one in that role before or since has had any article written about them. This is not a complaint, but an observation. It's the result of a family legacy of public service of which I am very proud. My father Julian was an MP, my aunt Judith recently retired as the head of the Civil Service, my grandfather Lynn committed his life to the police and my uncle Lynn Jr. spent his entire career in the prison service. But this legacy has not come without a price.  Julian the Orator Other than those members who attended the PLP delegates' conference in 2009, no one really knows that two months after my father's death and shortly after my 25th birthday I was nominated as Chairperson of the PLP. I didn't allow it t...

Ahhhhh....sweet relief. After over a month of being bereft of technology, my precious laptop is back in my loving arms. I've been spending time organising files, reinstalling programs, belatedly responding to messages and generally arranging my life. I also received the video from BBC News 24 of my second appearance in January, so if you're interested take a look at the vid posted. It goes into more depth of the issues I've faced over the years.  As a result of sorting out my life, I've been very busy this week even though I'm unemployed. Unemployed and poor. I'm looking for part-time work to support me as I act and write, but unsurprisingly struggling, although I was offered an interview for a high-paying full-time gig this week. I toyed with the idea for a moment as the money was very tempting, but in the end I realised I don't want a mediocre, sell-out life. I want to do something I love (or at least like an awful lot) and I haven't been on a...

This time I swear it's not my fault. The failure to blog. My laptop hard-drive has gone kaput and it's being replaced. Much has happened since I last blogged. Firstly, I'm back in London and settled into a new flat. It feels good to have a home again after being a couch-surfing nomad for a few months. Ah, the life of a struggling artiste! In news that's more exciting than my living situation, a couple of weeks ago I appeared on BBC Breakfast and BBC News 24 worldwide. It has always been my hope that by sharing my story I can help remove some of the stigma around mental illness and encourage others to seek help and speak out when they need help. As a result, I was asked by BBC to appear on their show after a study from The Royal College of  GPs revealed that GPs are struggling to diagnose and treat young people who are showing signs of depression. As someone who has been dealing with the NHS in regards to this since the age of 14 I had my own perspective to share.  ...

YOC, I've been neglecting you. Well, really, I've been neglecting myself. The truth is I've been so caught up with what's in my head I haven't been able to focus on anything else. You see, dear reader, my head is haunting me. I am crippled by anxiety attacks and I don't know the cause. I've always suffered from anxiety, but in the last two months the panic attacks have increased astronomically. It starts as a feeling of bad butterflies in my stomach, becoming a pain in my chest, until my throat feels filled with a thick substance. This, in turn, makes me feel unable to breathe and I begin to hyperventilate. The tears then flow. This can happen anywhere, at any time, on the tube, at work, in my bed, in my kitchen, at a concert, at dinner....there's no telling where. But when I say they're crippling, I say that because they're crippling my life. For months I've been hiding in the bathroom at work as they hit, with my knuckles turning white...