Welcome to my shiny new website.

Yet again, the bipolar brain insisted on having a grandiose reset and here we are. No posts, no stories, nothing.

This should feel daunting. Normally, an erratic desire to write hundreds of stories and repost what I’d already written to fill the emptiness would take over. But I feel quite excited. As a lowly, broke journalism student, London has become my playground. It’s where I get to look for stories, write reviews, and discover all the quirky bits of the city that people tend to walk past. Mostly because they’re free.

The trouble is I’ve got a tendency to strive for perfection, and that is something that can cause oneself to fall upon one’s own sword. I can barely get through a blood test without passing out, so I don’t really want to be impaled of my own accord. So, from this point forward, I write when I want to and, if and when I have nothing of value to say, I step away from the keyboard, hug a tree or two and touch some grass.

I shall be enslaved to the desk, laptop and adjoining monitor no longer. I think the logic in my brain says that time spent not writing is wasted, but this almost certainly becomes true because I spend so much time staring at blank posts, Word documents, my phone screen or, in some cases, walls can be just as entertaining, wondering why my life isn’t yet sorted out.

This summer is tough. I didn’t get the job I thought I was going to get because I somehow missed the listing twice. I’ve been begging, stealing and borrowing in order to survive. It’s a miserable existence. Inconsistent student ambassador shifts bring in much-needed, but unsteady, income. That money is usually gone before it lands in my bank account.

Instead of giving in to the downward spiral, which so desperately wants to take over my life, I’ve become focused on looking after myself and getting the basics right. Life is not suddenly perfect. I am not yet out of the frequent binging zone and neither am I going to do next year’s T100, but I am aiming for the Manchester Marathon in 2027, raising money for Samaritans.

I try my best to get out for a walk every day and this certainly helps the ever-flailing mental health, but again, this is something plagued by the pursuit of perfection. Yesterday, for example, I attempted Run 2 of Week 5 of Couch to 5K, having built up to it, and I couldn’t complete the run. Thirty-two-degree heat and the extra distance had me exhausted to the point where I couldn’t push anymore. Instead of being kind to myself about the heat and getting out to try it anyway, I wanted to throw myself in one of the ExCeL Centre’s industrial bins.

So, with all of that said, here’s to being messy, imperfect, occasionally vulnerable, always genuine, transparent and courageous, and here’s to saying yes when I could so easily say no for the most ridiculous bipolar-infused reason.