Day 76.

I hid it from you to keep it safe. It was safe with me. It wouldn't be safe with you. You'd break it. You did break it. You broke me. You made me lose it. You took it away. You took it and weren't even there. You stole it from me. You stole my life. Or what felt like it. I am better now. I am stronger but I still miss it. I miss it every day. I lost it. It was safe with me.

*

Error. I made one. Slightly. I forgot they can read this. I thought I would get away with it. Not so.

Okay, so granted I haven't written anything terrible. I haven't insulted anyone (intentionally), I haven't done anything that bad. I do, however, realise that, I have let my words slip through my fingers and in to blog posts that maybe I should have kept in my head. Or should I? (I am having an inner conflict with myself about this as you'll come to realise.) I vowed, when I began this blog that I would be honest about how I was feeling. I would just write the truth. Put down exactly what was in my head but edit it slightly because it would just be a mish mash of words, emotions and pug images. So I have. I just neglected to realise that a certain someone was reading it. I was a little too honest, maybe, in a previous post regarding some of the stupid thoughts that come in to my mind. I had to think, after being asked, whether these feelings were real and I believed them, or if they were simply shit spilling out from a tired, over active mind. I settled on the latter, as it was the truth. We all have self doubt sometimes but I realise how I was slipping back in to my over worrying ways.

I don't think that will ever change. I think I will always be a worrier. I was creating situations in my head because I couldn't believe how well things were going for me. I was trying to convince myself that I was wrong, it was all a lie, with no actual proof. Nothing had even happened to warrant my thinking that. I was being an absolute worrying, panicky, ridiculous turdball. Of course, even though these thoughts tried to creep in, I knew they weren't real. They were just that stupid part of every persons head that says 'you aren't good enough, stop trying.' Before, I wouldn't have realised that. I would have believed it. I would have convinced myself it were true and ended up spiraling down until I had lost all sense of reality and ballsed everything up. Not this time, my friends, I am not going down without a damn good fight which will involve a heel to the eyes and a swift kick in the nads. I am not going back to that place.

So, other than being a moron the last couple of days have been pleasant. Nothing amazingly wonderful has happened but they have been delightful all the same. My intention on seeing my sister and nephew today has been blighted by the fact there is no point. As she says 'you will be driving for longer than you will be actually seeing us.' This is true. I have no money either which is apparently handy when trying to drive somewhere in Essex. 

My book arrived. 'How to be a woman' by Caitlin Moran. You are all aware, I am sure, that Caitlin is an inspiration to me. As we do in this day and age, we take photos of everything. Our food, ourselves, our injuries, our sock drawer. Whatever it is, we no doubt, will take a photo of it to show the world. I took a photo of my new book. My excitement was at a real high. I knew there would be people who appreciated the fact I had got this book, they would be happy too, they would applaud it in the same way I have jumped around anxiously for the last few days waiting for it. I did not, however, expect to see the menfolk jump in to comment. Of course, perhaps from the title of the book, I would get the comments of 'about time you learned how to be a woman Hannah.' (I was bullied for quite some time, these comments are second nature to me now.) One comment I did receive was this:

"This looks like a right load of wank" (He wasn't wrong, in chapter 1 I was greeted by Caitlin's first time masturbating.) So, from that comment I have concluded that this person has decided they don't like this book because they aren't impressed with the front cover. Books usually do look wank but quite frankly, we aren't generally meant to be just looking at the book, we are meant to be reading it. That's where the good stuff is. That's where all the interest lies. I found it amusing. He had totally written off this book because it 'looks wank'. Fascinating really. Perhaps he knows of Caitlin and is aware of what she writes. Perhaps he knows nothing about it and is commenting before understanding. I will go for the latter. I assume it is the latter. I am thoroughly enjoying it all the same. I will continue to enjoy it as well. 

It is short and sweet for now. I want to go and read about masturbating, pubic hair and lap dancing.

Hannah xox