Day 253.

I know it's been a really long time. It will all make sense.

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First things first. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not blogging in well over 2 weeks. I started this year with the intention of blogging every day and clearly, I have not done so well. However, I have my reasons. The main one being...Chasing Life has a website! I am taking this blog to a new dimension and am currently having the final tweaks put on the site so we can have a happy and smooth transition from here to there. I am beyond excited. I have a very good friend who is doing this all for me for the grand sum of nothing and so, I can't ask him to prioritize my work for those of paying clients. Yet, we are nearly done. The end is in sight and I'm pleased to say you will not have to wait much longer.

Lots of things have been happening since I last wrote to you all.

I got a job. I started training for a job and am now waiting for my 3 day induction period to start. Having to wait for a CRB check is the most tedious thing, especially when you've moved as much as I have! It takes a lot longer. Sadly though, there wasn't much I could do about that! So, that's one of the main things that has been focusing my attentions. 

Uni' has been...interesting. I am now Level 3 qualified in Massage, Aromatherapy and Reflexology and good God it feels amazing. After starting a course I wasn't sure I wanted to be on, I have now got over all the initial hurdles and worries I first had and have achieved something. We are rapidly approaching the end of our first year and it has gone so fast. On May 22nd. We will have completed all our initial training and will be soon to complete our new chapter as second years. With the added bonus of receiving treatments off the new first years! Yay times.

Sadly though, I am in quite a pickle financially. Due to my loan not coming through until April 21st and not having a job, I have been left without money which, as you can imagine, has left me in some doodoo of sorts. It's a daily battle to be honest but I have just under a month to go and I have definitely been poorer than this, so really I should remain positive. Not long now.

This all feels really random.

I am still living with my friend although the prospect of moving out is distracting me somewhat. I am desperately craving my own place although I'm not entirely sure how my consultant would feel about that. Due to my epilepsy, does it mean I can't live alone anymore? I have to have someone with me most of the time (just in case) but surely I'd be okay? I've lasted this long...

I've also been having a long, hard think about my epilepsy and all comments are welcome once I've written this. I have decided that medication may not be for me. I have looked at side effects of some drugs and long term effects and to be honest, I don't want any of that. Surely, if I can avoid my triggers or, at least, reduce the risk of encountering them, I could cope with this. The same as I have coped for this long. It does make my life challenging, what with the appalling memory, the exhaustion and the shakes but it's manageable. I don't know. All suggestions welcome and appreciated whether you suffer with it or not.

Anyway guys, I'm sure it's a surprise to some of you that I am not out on a Friday night and, instead, decided to spend my evening crying at Sport Relief but, alas, that is what has happened. Well, apart from my hyperventilating earlier after being in the dark briefly. I really must sort this phobia out and find out the root cause of it.

This may be the last post you will read on here before my site goes live but can I just say, thank you. Thank you to everyone who has read my posts, contacted me and followed my journey over the last few months. This blog has become something of a life saver for me and I am so grateful to all of you that have joined me. Your continued support would mean the world to me and I will update you all of the site URL once we are live!

Thank you all, from the bottom of my heart.

Hannah xox

Day 235.

Sometimes the only thing that's needed are a gorgeous pair of shoes.

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I, for a long time, thought fashion and style were two things I would be never be interested. In truth, it absolutely fascinates me.

The beauty of fashion is that it affects every single person. No matter how small, each of us is affected by the big power house, catwalk designers that flood our media like no other. They, the less affordable brands, carve our enthusiasm to shop and to spend money on trends they have set with their collections. We may be all for cheap and cheerful shopping when it comes to our fashion but perhaps we are unaware of how our fashion choices have actually been influenced by others above.

I was an awkward teenager. Growing up with thick, black eye make up. Plenty of leopard print. Backcombed hair. Piercings galore. I was fully in to my phase of not caring what people thought of how I looked. I made a lot of effort to look that scruffy. There truly is some skill to it. After moving on from that point of my life I started at college and my style seemed to change. Gone were the obscure clothes and hello was the new me. I refer to her as plain Hannah. Yes, on the odd occasion I would have these fleeting moments where I felt I needed to express myself with my clothes but, ultimately, I had resorted to jeans and whatever I could find to go on top. It was a boring era. The only excitement came from the costumes I wore on stage and even those weren't that elaborate.

As the years went by, after leaving college, I have finally arrived to where I am now. A confident, comfortable and collected young lady. It has only been in the recent months where I have started to make a full effort with the way I look again. Putting together pieces I think work, deciding on jewellery, if any. I make an effort with my hair and my make up which had disappeared off my priority list. There are many reasons for this but the main one being, I felt so out of it all. I felt so plain, boring, dull as the Hannah I once was, I felt I needed to revive some life in to the old girl!

I bought these boots back in the early Winter of last year. Today was the first time I had worn them. Simple, chunky, black ankle boots with laces and a side zip. Simple and understated with that added extra of grunge thrown in. I bought them. I looked at them. I put them away. I toyed with the idea of wearing them. I put them away again. Today, after what felt like an epiphany I planned my outfit around them, as opposed to wondering whether they'd go with something for hours on end. With my racer skirt, plum jumper and black tights I was good to go. It was quite exciting wearing them for the first time. It may sound a little silly but for me, shoes can make an outfit. With the right pair of shoes on us girls can feel powerful and strong. These boots did just that. 

By teaming these with a delicate skirt it added a more feminine but 'don't mess with me attitude' to the whole look which works well when having to tackle a morning at the library!

After moving in to a friends I looked through all my clothes, trying to work out what to throw away and so far, I've found nothing. I have my old staples- things I've kept for years yet still seem to 'work' as the seasons change. I have my charity bargains that I can't seem to let go off. I have my more expensive items- mainly the dress I wore to my cousins wedding last year. All these clothes have seen me through happy times, sad times and all those in between. I have those pieces I love to wear often as they're so comfortable and just scream me. There are others I rarely wear but know I will in time.

I realised that I may not be the most fashionable of people. I may not necessarily jump on trends the minute they come out and I may not want to follow the crowd in how they should be worn. I know that what I may lack in fashion, I certainly make up for in style.

Having our own style makes us stand out. It allows us to express ourselves without having to say a word. We can play the characters that we want to with just our clothes. We can be as powerful, as dainty, as harsh as we could want just through the clothes we wear. There is no shame in having an individual style.

From now on, I am going to stop fearing my clothing choices. There have been times where I've felt I should be dressed a certain way, around certain people in order to keep them on side. Yet, it's those kinds of people (the ones who look you up and down and say 'what on Earth are you wearing?') that we shouldn't fear. Some of the people I admire most are those who are brave in every aspect of their lives, including their clothing choices. They dare to wear their personality right on their sleeves and so could you.

Hannah xox

Day 234.

It was like seeing an old friend for the first time, in a long while.

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I was about 11. Sat on my bedroom floor, crying. Crying because I couldn't work out how to make all the ideas racing through my head in to a show. Yep. I was that girl. 

Yesterday, my mum brought me the rest of my junk (well most of it) over to my friends, where I am now living. I cannot believe how many clothes I have and how many of those I don't wear. Time for either a clear out or some dedication to wearing some other pieces I usually look over. 

I came across a folder. My singing folder. Well...sort of. It doesn't actually sing itself but it does hold on to all my sheet music I've gathered over the years through college and different shows I've been in. Recently, since my friend is out most of the day, I have taken to singing in the kitchen. I've always loved singing and it cheers me up without a doubt. After finding my folder I headed for the kitchen to perform in front of the West End casting directors I was auditioning for because, of course, they wanted to hear my full repertoire. Don't get me wrong, I'm not amazing but it was comforting to know that after all these years of abuse, my voice hadn't completely given up. I sang and sang until I could sing no more or, more accurately, I needed to use the bathroom and had heard enough from the Oliver music to give anyone nightmares.

Hidden in the back of this folder were a few sheets of scruffy paper with my 19 year old selves messy writing sprawled across them. I had found the first show I had ever written. It had taken me all those years from being a young 11 year old girl, listening to a Coldplay track on repeat to gain inspiration, for me to do something about it. I had written out scenes, music I'd use. Step by step instructions on how it would be staged. It all came flooding back to me. I remember listening to Voodoo People (Pendulum Mix) repeatedly until my ears felt like they'd explode and my head was pounding, whilst lying on my bed and then slowly getting up, trying to map the choreography I had in my brain on to paper.

I look back at all of that and really kick myself. Why didn't I go on to study something that consumed so much of me and why was I still not studying it? I have been a fool, I must admit. I study a course surrounded by wonderful people and I know the master plan in the grand scheme of things yet, I hope I haven't left it too late.

Over the last couple of years I had made dvds for my sister's birthday. I created shows, alongside my ex (who thankfully edited them for me!) and found my inspiration and passion for it all over again. 

I may not be treading the boards as such, right now but I know that at some point I will focus my attention entirely on this and I will live out the dreams I've had since I was a young, shy girl crying on her bedroom floor.

Hannah xox