It was my birthday on Thursday and I turned 26. It's an age where, when I was a teenager, I was sure I'd know what the hell I was doing with my life. You know, I'd be working a top notch job, be saving towards a house, be travelling regularly, and all the "proper adult stuff" that you know, we all should be doing by your mid to late 20's. I'd be ticking off dreams left, right and centre, all whilst keeping fit and healthy and having an amazing social life, of course. But the reality is I'm sat here in my pyjamas in my tiny one bed flat with not too much to show for the last 26 years. The reality is I have no idea what the hell I'm doing.
I've always been a little bit rubbish at reading. I tend to go through phases where I throw myself into a book but then can go for months without picking it up again. I know, I know, for a lot of you that probably sounds painful, but when you've got everything else in life weighing you down, reading, for me anyway, tends to be a pretty low priority on the list unfortunately.
Well hello there! Hey! Hi! Aloha! Howdy! How are you all doing then? I know, I know, long time no see, that's nothing new though, you should all know by now that I am the most inconsistent blogger in the world... This is my first post since the beginning of Summer, I'm feeling a little …
This post will probably come across as over-sharing, that's really not my aim. I'm also not looking for sympathy or for a flock of messages asking me if "I'm OK", that's really not why I'm here. As it is Mental Health Awareness week it felt like a good time to share my feelings and my own experiences with mental health issues.