Shiny happy…

Sometimes a person needs a wee treat. This week has been one of those times. So, I’ve gone right ahead and picked up some bits to cheer myself up.

I’m always up for a new a nail polish. Barry M is definitely my favourite ‘drugstore’ brand. Their liquid chrome range is deliciously shiny & luxe. I can’t wait to get this silvery dream on my fingers. Keeping with the metallics I also grabbed a new highlighter. This Iced Bronze strobe cream is little more subtle than the Galactic I already have. It’s cute warmer tone is perfect for a summer glow.

Barry M strobe cream & chrome nail paint

ly h Kerr

My next treat was part of a successful sale haul. Snapping up bargains that you love is fab, but when everything fits & looks great; peak satisfaction. I wore this bandeau dress to lunch with bestie & her baba. It’s perfect for steamy hot days like today.

ly h Kerr

Dress – Asos Curve

Kimono – H&M

Finally I got an ingenious device that is seriously upping my eyeliner game. I am forever jealous of girls who can create banging winged looks. I’m useless with eyeliner beyond the basics. This clever little stamp is changing that. Now I can have killer wings in seconds. I can’t wait to experiment more.

Pink eyeliner stamp

Eyeliner Stamp – EBay

ly h Kerr

Small pleasures can help a tiny bit when you can’t fix the big issues. In times of trouble, I always recommend you treat yourself.

American idiot…

I included a picture of this outfit in a post a few weeks ago & I got few questions about it. So, thought I’d do a full outfit post on it. I call this look protest chic.

I was combining my Friday night out with an anti Trump protest. I wanted to look great whilst I used my voice for good. I was also dying to try out this amazing lace body suit.

ly h Kerr, Anti Trump rally, Glasgow

Bodysuit – Boohoo

Skirt – Lindy Bop

I’ve definitely gotten bolder with sheer fabrics this year. I think I used to be wary partly because I’m fat, but more so because I have huge breasts. Over the years I’ve absorbed a lot of negative messages about not showing too much in that area. I’ve always raged against the notion that if I wear a low cut top my boobs are fair game. I still felt like lots of styles were automatically off limits to someone of my (breast) size. I’m so glad I’ve pushed against those limits; I feel & look great in the new styles I’ve been trying.

ly h Kerr
ly h Kerr, close up

Sunglasses – Where.Light

Necklace – Fuck the Tories

Bra – Yours clothing

I like your spunk pin – Spunk Rock

I absolutely adore the look of this bodysuit, but it is a bit tricky to wear. It isn’t very long, so if you’re on the taller side it’s a fidgety one to get fastened. It’s also a bit of a faff to wear as I had to keep adjusting to keep my more bra than I wanted popping out. If you’re thinking of buying it, I’d recommend sizing up.

Do I wear you out?…

I’ve had another really bad week pain wise. It feels like I’m been having a lot of bad weeks recently and I’m tired. So very tired.

Life goes on, though. Nothing stops because I’m in pain. So, I try to keep on going too. It’s exhausting. Pain wears you out. Even before you attempt to do anything, just being in pain is tiring. I’m not sure that many people know that. You start the day fatigued. Every single task you perform from that point takes enormous effort. You’re fighting the pain and the growing exhaustion.

Drs will tell you to rest, but complete rest isn’t feasible for very many people. I can’t rely on or expect other people to take care of my life for me. My house will stay dirty if I don’t clean it, my fridge will stay empty if I don’t fill it, my bills won’t pay themselves, medical treatment doesn’t come to my house, my cat needs fed and my teeth, hair, body won’t clean themselves. Those are just the very basics of life, but they can be overwhelming when every move you make is agony. It’s a no win situation. If I neglect these basics my quality of life is seriously impacted. My stress levels soar & mood plummets. Trying to keep up with daily life saps all my energy. Pain is exhausting & exhaustion lowers your ability to cope with pain. It’s a vicious circle with no obvious escape.

Plus living is more than one’s basic responsibilities. There has to be human contact & stimulation. Unfortunately those can be just as tiring as the daily dirge. I love writing. I love swimming. Both are good for me, body & mind. Doing either involves a string of wearying steps. I have to wear myself down in the hope of benefits that are never guaranteed. I have a wonderful friends & family. Excellent relationships I don’t want to lose or neglect. However, just making myself fit to be in company is sometimes a mammoth task. I don’t even mean appearance wise. My people will accept me with no make up & greasy hair. They can handle the days that I can’t walk very far or do very much. For which I am grateful. What I can’t ask of them is to soak up my ill temper. Pain makes you snappy & negative & frankly unpleasant. No one wants to be around that. Also, no one wants to treat the people they love that way.

What do I do? I monitor myself. I constantly keep a tight grip on that grump. Take a deep breath & swallow it down. Let me tell you, maintaining that front, is exhausting. Also, essential. I don’t want to be a nasty bitch. I want to treat people with respect. Of course I gain from this; my life is immeasurably better for having date nights & sister time & lunch with my bestie & joyous mini people in it. Pain is absolutely not an excuse for being a fuckwit. It’s right that I censor myself into being nice. It’s just that it’s incredibly draining. It is the same catch 22, don’t push myself to do these things and my life would be empty. Do them & I pay the price.

None of this is anyone’s fault. There isn’t really anything anyone can do to change these things. This is just my life. Oh & a lot of other people’s too. I have this idea that maybe if we understand each other’s experience we might understand each other a little better. I think that would probably be a good thing. Further more, I’ve been trying to hold in all my grump & I am very tired.

** Apologies. I know this is not my best writing. I’m really sore & really tired.

You say you want a revolution…

If you are even fractionally sentient you will be aware the Donald Trump visited the UK last week. He did so with all his usual grace & charm. Yup, that’s right, none. Instead he gave us his standard fare; lies, ill manners & fuckwittery.

I’m delighted to confirm that we weren’t standing for it. A reported 250,000 people took the streets of London to protest Trump’s arrival on our shores. In Glasgow the crowd was smaller, but no less passionate.

I’ll happily take every opportunity to denounce the U.S. President & his vile administration. For me it boils down to one really simple fact; if you don’t loudly condemn their actions, you’re condoning them.

I don’t consider it hyperbole to describe the current GOP as fascists. Trump’s government displays every single facist warning sign. Rampant racism leading to dehumanisation comes straight from the nazi playbook. Language such a infestation combined with policies like family separation & Muslim travel bans are undeniably examples of this. Extreme sexism is unavoidable when the commander in chief is a sexual predator. When you combine his misogyny with the increased power of the religious right you create a dangerous situation. Reproductive rights, access to health care & basic human rights for LGBTQ+ people are at serious risk. Assaults on the free press. An inability to conduct himself in reasonable & decent manner add to his horrors. When mocking disabled people is fair game, but denouncing white supremacy is not, you have a society in serious trouble.

It isn’t possible to recount all of Trump’s bad conduct in one blog post. He represents all that I find repulsive. His Presidency puts vulnerable people within & without America at severe risk. I think all decent people have a duty to resist. I’m proud of my city for making our revulsion clear.

I spent the first half of the protest sharing a bench with some elderly Americans who thanked me for our support. They also asked me to explain some of the signs, which proved a little awkward. ‘Fud’ is not a word that lends itself to polite translation. It was, however uplifting to share a laugh and all that we had in common.

Protest is important & powerful. Please join in whatever capacity you can. Be that matches, rallies, direct action or even donations. Be safe, but be strong.

You can put your money to good by donating to these organisations.

RAICES provide free & low cost legal services to immigrants & refugees in Texas.

The ACLU fight through the courts to defend the civil liberties of all Americans.

The Coalition to Stop Gun Violence does exactly what it says on the tin. The campaign for & work on legislation that will introduce gun restriction laws which will reduce gun violence.

Planned Parenthood provide sexual health services, screening, abortions & much more. They are essential for many Americans who cannot otherwise access affordable healthcare.

I’ll be there for you…

I’ve had a hard week. Pain is hitting a consistent 7/10, I’m getting hardly any sleep & of course I have tonnes of stuff to do. So, when I had a free afternoon I really wanted to be still & rest. Alas, my pesky little sister really wanted to go to FriendsFest. She was so right, it was awesome.

The 90’s was my decade & Friends was the ultimate must see tv in those days. Stepping onto the actual sets of the famous apartments was really cool. All the other Friends themed attractions were spot on & tonnes of fun.

ly h Kerr FriendsFest

All the details were perfect & messing around with the interactive scenes was amazing.

Friends set

My sis was the perfect person to visit with as we spent a lot time watching Friends together when we both still living at home. We used to play a game where we’d give each other a random topic & we had to come up with a Friends related quote. Now that I’ve written it down that story looks kind of tragic, but we did cool stuff too.

Pivot, Vegas wedding, meat trifle

You probably shouldn’t marry your sister, but if you do try to have a sister who makes the ugly wedding dresses look cute.

FriendsFest was a blast. I felt like I was half dead & I managed to have great time. If that’s not a rave review then I don’t know what it. Oh & yes, I did look cute. A swing dress plus red lippy is the quickest way I know to take yourself from drab to fancy.

ly h Kerr, Lindy Boply h Kerr rainbow petticoat

Dress – Lindy Bop

Rainbow Petticoat – Lindy Bop

Necklace – Fuck the Tories.

Don’t even try to tell me you wouldn’t watch this show.

ly h Kerr, opening credits

You make me sick..

Chronic illness is a shit show. Sometimes literally. Which is thing a that often goes unmentioned. Beyond the pain, being incapacitated & generally hindered in life there is the embarrassment factor. Believe me, that’s no small thing.

Disability brings many embarrassments. Perhaps most notably, for me, is the discarding of a layer of delicacy that I cherished. I am not by nature a person who cares to discuss certain bodily functions. I don’t find toilet humour funny. I don’t need the details of your bathroom trip. I have weird anxieties about toilets/bathrooms that are not my own. I’ll hold a pee for ten hours because the toilets in the bar aren’t spotless or because I saw a hair in your bathroom. A pee used to be the absolute limit of what I would even consider doing in toilet outside my own house. Now, I long for the time when I could reject toilets willy nilly & only go in the privacy of my home. Those were the days.

These days I always need to know where the nearest ladies is. Often I can’t leave the house because I cannot be more than a few feet from my bathroom. If I go out the choice of where & when I deign to use the facilities is no longer mine. My stomach now reigns supreme. It’s not a benevolent ruler. IBD has put paid to any friendly relations between myself & my digestive system. Throw in a hiatal hernia, GERD, anxiety & fibromyalgia and you have the making of all out war. In short, my digestive tract rarely behaves. Whether it’s vomiting, diarrhoea or constipation it’s always up to no good.

Sick emoji

Now, along with cramps & heartburn & nausea & wind & reflux & horrible, horrible pain I get to deal with the crippling embarrassment. I have to worry that the public toilet will be packed when my stomach is in distress. I panic that I won’t get off the bus in time to not ruin everyone’s day with the smell of my vomit. I have to use friend’s bathrooms & worry if I’m taking too long. My boyfriend gets to listen to me throwing my guts up whilst he lies in bed; trust me, it’s not sexy.

I am constantly trying to manage these symptoms in ways that allow me to avoid talking about them. I time eating around when I will be in locations that I can easily to escape to the facilities without drawing too much attention. I’ll avoid eating before car or public transport journeys. Often, I’ll just stay home. At heart I’m still a person who doesn’t want to even allude to any of this stuff. I’ll say I don’t feel great when what I mean is one way or another the contents of my stomach are going explode. I’m embarrassed to talk about it. I’m embarrassed for other people to know much about it. I’m mortified at the thought of it getting worse.

Embarrassed chimpanzee

As hard as I find it I’m now a person who has to do these cringe inducing things ALL THE TIME. I find myself having a near panic attack in a cubicle because maybe people can hear my insides trying to get out. I’m quietly dying whilst Drs question me about my bowels. I am rushing into pubs you usually couldn’t pay me to step into to use toilets worse than the one in trainspotting. It’s awful. I hate every twinge & cramp & wave of nausea; partly because they feel rotten, but mostly because I’m embarrassed.

So, here I am talking about it. I’m hoping if I just put it out there for all to see I can stop freaking out. I know other people experience this stuff & I’d hate to be part of the silence that makes anyone else feel this rubbish. If nothing else perhaps being a bit more open will alleviate some stress, which can only be good for my tum.

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Why don’t you mind your own business?

I had an interesting twitter conversation this week. Some people wanted to know how I deal with strangers asking questions about my scars. Unfortunately this is a thing that happens & one of the reasons many people feel they must conceal their scars. Fortunately it is not an everyday occurrence & you can learn to handle it. I wanted to quickly share some tips that I hope will help you do just that.

First of all I feel it’s essential that you realise that no one has the right to ask you these questions. It is rude & intrusive. You do not owe these people answers, you don’t even owe them a polite response.

I totally understand that depending on a variety of factors unexpected questions about your scars can strike different chords. Sometimes I feel enraged, other days I panic & sometimes I’m just over it. Thus, my responses can differ. That’s ok. You are entitled to feel however you feel. You are not obligated to be nice or to hide those emotions from ill mannered strangers.

I tend to have ready made responses for the most common comments. They range from just shutting someone down to embarrassing them the way they tried to embarrass me. (Note : most people who ask already know what your scars are. They know their questions are akward & unkind).

Let’s get to it. I’m going to give my to go to answer to my most often asked questions.

Q/ What happened to your arms/legs/body part?

A/ What happened to your manners?

A/ Shark attack.

A/ Me.

A/ Exactly what you think.

Q/ Why did you do that?

A/ Why do you think it’s your business?

A/ Why are you a nosey bitch?

Q/ Why don’t you cover those up?

A/ Why don’t you mind your own business?

A/ Why don’t you cover up your horrible personality?

A/ Why don’t you fuck off?

All of these responses are blunt & let nosey people know you are not all impressed with their questions. I refuse to pander to other people’s rudeness, but I know there are times when you don’t feel confident or just want to avoid a possible confrontation. I find the perfect answer in those instances is ‘it’s a long story’. It’s vague, but it is also obvious that you have no interest in pursuing the topic.

Whatever you say the important thing to remember is that you don’t need to reveal details to anyone unless you want to. It’s not your responsibility to make strangers feel comfortable. It’s certainly not your job to safeguard the feelings of people who don’t care about hurting yours. Shut them down & live your life.

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Wake me up inside…

Today I saw another one of those social media that purports to offer alternatives to self harm. This time the post also claimed that sharing this information would save lives.

I’m just going to be completely honest, this bull isn’t saving any lives. These are not credible alternatives to self harm. They will not stop an ill person from hurting themselves. They don’t solve the problem of why a person might feel the need to hurt themselves; they don’t even address it. In fact, in some cases they reaffirm the idea that hurting yourself is a good coping mechanism (just so long as you do it in a socially acceptable manner).

I’ve talked & written about why these suggestions are insulting until i’m blue in the face. I see others giving excellent arguments against such advice & yet this sort of thing is still the only information disseminated in the mainstream. So, I thought I’d try to talk about what actually can help one refrain from hurting oneself.

My suggestions are more complicated & time consuming & bloody hard. They don’t lend themselves to becoming a jaunty list to share in Twitter. The grim reality is that self harm is a grind and so is quitting.

Blood stained foot

For me the first step in getting anywhere close to stopping was understanding why I started in the first place. I truly believe understanding why a person self harms is crucial to recovery. Self harm isn’t the illness, it’s a symptom of it. From the outside identifying what is distressing you might seem simple, but trust me, it isn’t. There can be layers of trauma & hurt. A person may have a lifetime of issues woven into a complex fabric of pathologies. Picking that apart is intensely painful. Having pulled on that dangerous thread, you’re going to have to find ways address those underlying problems. They don’t simply disappear under a bright light. It takes time, professional guidance & huge bravery.

And that’s just the beginning. Next you have discern what you get from self harm; how is it helping you cope. What function is inflicting pain serving. Again, this is no simple puzzle to solve. My self harm had many roles. I was punishing myself, I hated the body that had failed me, I was avoiding emotions I couldn’t cope with, the blood was cathartic, I became addicted & a multitude of other reasons. Predictably totting up all the pay offs doesn’t negate them. There is more work to be done. One must weigh how healthy each function is and decide if it enhances ones life. For instance, probably not a great idea to be continually forcing myself to do penance, however it is a good idea to not be completely overwhelmed by sadness. You must find away to live without the unhealthy whilst also establishing new mechanisms to maintain essential uses. Of course all the time you are working away at your inner self you are dealing with addiction. Self harm is habit forming. So, your journey of self discovery/healing/madness has a background of overwhelming urges & powerful compulsions. To begin with you have to fight the full force of addiction every single moment of every single day. Plus, of course, everyone has their own additional problems to throw into the mix. Maybe you have co morbidities or financial problems or a family you’re trying not mess up with your illness. Life doesn’t stop when crazy calls.

None of this easy. It does not and cannot happen over night. It involves breaking down long held beliefs & opening yourself up to being scared and vulnerable. This post is just a simplified version of a process that takes years. It involves psychiatric professionals, medical intervention, medication, therapy, a support network, a&e visits & most of all trying to be honest. I understand why it’s easier to pretend you can draw on your skin or scream at a wall until you’re better. It is terrifying to a/ begin trying access the kind of intensive help needed & b/ expose yourself to pain you’ve been desperately trying to suppress. Believe me, selling yourself & others a lie is not the answer.

The truth is there are no tips & tricks for beating self harm. There is no magic fix or complete cure. I look at it like any other addiction. I will probably always want to cut, I have to do whatever I can not to. No amount of extremely cold water will ever change that harsh fact. When it comes right down to it, for me, the driving force in abstaining is knowing that I want other things more than I want to pick up that scalpel. Oh & sheer will power. I couldn’t have come to that realisation without more than a decade of therapy. I absolutely could never have exercised this level of control over the voice in my own head without putting in all that work.

I’m not going to say everyone’s story is the same as mine. I can’t guarantee that you can ever get completely better. I’m not. I can only offer you the hard truth of my experience & my certainty that there aren’t any shortcuts. Don’t share false hope. Let’s be honest with people who really need it. Trying to quit self harm is a nightmare, but there is hope that you’ll wake up.

Talk is cheap…

It’s Mental Health Awareness Week, which is, in theory, a good thing. Since all it seems to involve is people on social media saying ‘talk about it’ it is not actually all that helpful.

We absolutely should talk about mental illness more. We should educate our kids about symptoms & how normal it is to experience them. We should put better training in place for teachers, emergency services & NHS staff. We should all try harder not to judge or shirk away from people who are struggling. Employers should be flexible with staff dealing with mental illness. There should be more information, more understanding, more honesty. Yes, we should talk about it. Asking for help it definitely a good idea. All of these things are important & valid, but there’s still something missing from the conversation.

What happens when you do speak openly & no one listens (or seems to care). Can we talk about all the people who gathered all their courage &!swallowed their pride to ask for help and didn’t get any? Can we address the fact that as hard as is it to say ‘I’m not ok’, it’s a million times harder to hear ‘tough luck’ in response.

We do need to talk about mental illness, but we also need to listen and act. Funding is of course part of the problem. The NHS is chronically underfunded & mental health is the poor cousin. For all the political talk of parity between physical & mental illness, there has been little change to waiting times or scarcity of vital mental health services. Very often waiting to even be assessed by a mental health team is a long process. In my area the wait for psychologist input is 4months (that’s relatively short), in practise you’ll be waiting longer because you will first have to be referred & assessed before anyone even adds you to that list. During all this waiting time people can have no professional support.

Then there are the multitude who are deemed ‘not sick enough’. To be fair this has always been an issue due to stigma & ignorance. Lack of funding exacerbates the problem. When services are so stretched, access to those resources become limited. Lots of people who seek help for mental health problems are basically told to manage it themselves. Get some exercise, reduce your stress, get out more. When you summon your strength to talk about things that frighten you and are told it’s no big deal, it’s hard not to feel even more pathetic. It is difficult not to feel shutdown. Repeat that scenario more than once & people give up. Likewise for those who are informed that they’re not quite ill enough to warrant intervention. All that talk of early warning signs & speaking up doesn’t translate into much action. Having a professional ask you to wait & see if your health declines before they will help you is a kick in the gut. When you know that getting worse means your entire life falling apart, it’s not unreasonable to prefer to be proactive. When you don’t know what’s happening to you all, it is terrifying. So, yes, we do need to talk about it. I will always encourage people to ask for help. I will always strive to remove the shame of admitting you need assistance. I’ll also continue to demand that we talk about what happens after you take that step. We cannot ignore the fact that asking for help does not guarantee receiving it. We must acknowledge all the people for whom no treatment has been forthcoming & stop pretending that the problem isn’t much, much bigger.

People die because they did talk about it & nothing changed. Can we start talking about that?

I feel pretty…

On Friday night I met the Toyboy for a super quick dinner & a terrible movie. I say dinner, I only ended up with sweet potato fries. Plus the film starred Amy Schumer. If I’m honest, it was a poor attempt at Friday nighting. I did manage to get some outfit photos, so all was was not not lost.

It does have to be said, it was good outfit & we did rectify things by watching a bloody good film (anon) when we got home. I picked this retro beauty up on Thursday & could not wait get it on my body. I love that it had a 50’s feel, is my favourite colour & has rare, but beloved pockets. Really big ones, too!

ly h Kerr

Dress – Primark

Cardi – Monsoon

Harness Bra – Pour Moi

I think the harness bra sexes it up just enough for a night time excursion. I also went big on accessories, overall, I felt banging.

Cinema selfie

The film we saw was of course, I Feel Pretty. It is awful as the reviews claimed. Its feminism & body positivity are flawed in all the ways you’ve been reading about. It is also just a bad film. So stupid in places that I actually felt insulted. It is filled with nonsense, dated sexist tropes & a terrible imagining of what could have been (in other hands) an interesting concept. Also, Amy Schumer is trash. Give it a miss.

Ticket stub, nail art, red dress