So, I’m one of those people who tends to trust people kinda blindly. It doesn’t seem to matter what happens, I tend to get blinded somewhere along the line. I like to think that my innocence isn’t complete ignorance and that everyone has real good in them… I don’t think I’m going to stop thinking that any time soon. Because it hasn’t always been a bad thing, it just keeps getting me into trouble.
When I was 19 I fell in love with a guy and moved to his country and tried to learn his language (I suck at languages, other than English :p) Just before my 24th birthday in October I realised that the way he was treating me wasn’t healthy or very nice. When I bounced, he bagged up all my possessions and threw them away. Which included a lot of the writing projects I’d been working on for the last four years and a couple of novels,(everything I’d been silly enough not to save to the cloud.)
I turned up at my nan’s in the UK with £50 in my bank account, two t-shirts, jeans, a jumper, my chrome book and my ipad. I spent up until late November sleeping on a couch, fighting a severe infection in my kidneys that decided to materialise because the universe wanted to give me a good kicking.
Gotta say, If my parents weren’t so supportive…I’d be in big trouble. I’ve not been left with much, but I’m gonna make use of what I have and work really hard. I’ll get back on my feet. I know it.
Have I kept writing? When I can, it’s been a bit rough. But honestly, even after everything I feel so much better. I’m no longer suppressed and I’ve noticed the stories and characters I’m coming up with aren’t as dark as they were before. I decided to stay away from Twitter and things, bar my instagram post, just because I was kinda mentally exhausted.
But I’m ready to return, my muse is back, it wants to write. It wants me to make some awesome inspirational tweets. And most of all it wants me to publish A Dance With Fury.
Watch this space.