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Creative Writer,Published Nutritionist, Astrologer, interested in spirituality. Dog lover!

Wednesday, 16 July 2014


It wasn’t supposed to be like this
Our first hello, being our final kiss
To never hear you cry or laugh
To wash your hair, or give you a bath

It was supposed to be all happiness and light
Instead we faced our darkest night
The demons that we had to slay
Inflicted wounds so deep they’ll always stay

Through you we have known intense sorrow and joy
Great Braveness & strength we’ve had to employ
So easy to have given in to despair and gloom
Tears of blood were wept from your mummy’s womb

We long to hear your cries at night
To see your face in bright sunlight
To hold your hand as you walk along
To beam with pride as you sing your first song

Instead our heavy hearts have been broken
Our empty arms to you will always remain open
We long to never let you go
But goodnight now beautiful Tamsin Rainbow

© Sarah Green 2011

Bright Star

Never has a star shone so bright
Then fade so fast, in the blackest night
Taking all our hopes and dreams
Leaving nothing behind but silent screams

Will this aching feeling  never  end?
Can broken hearts ever truly mend?
Can eyes full of tears ever see?
Can laughter replace misery?

Day surely  follows the darkest night
Even if you pray for eternal twilight
And as the black veil falls again
The bright star appears to ease our pain

 © Sarah Green 2011

Sunday, 25 March 2012

How life has changed!

I can't believe that I last posted in August 2009. How life has changed since then.

I got married in November of that year. Had a daughter in summer of 2010, then got pregnant again in February last year. I thought my life was complete, that I could never be happier: Then tragedy struck!

The following is that story.

Losing a child is a club no one wants to join. Its membership is the one most feared by parents, and by virtue, it’s an uncomfortable one - to even contemplate. Unlike most other clubs, though, this one has no discriminations, it can welcome anyone; class, wealth, age, class or creed, are no barrier to inclusion. The one common denominator is the worst kind of grief.

There are no words to begin to describe this grief. It is one built on hopes and dreams, instead of memories. It is one of longing to do the most basic of all parental duties – care & protect one’s offspring, and the profound guilt that this duty has failed… how can mourning any other relative compare?

The tiny little lifeless body instils such a protective instinct, coupled with the most overwhelming sense of emptiness. It never feels as though you can be whole again. It’s an insane feeling that is so utterly desperate and exhausting.

I cannot begin to explain the despair I feel. The endless nights I can’t sleep, the mornings I wake, my eyes wet with tears. Longing to have the empty crib occupied, by a happy, sleeping baby. Wanting to run away, to escape, but I can’t escape the pain.

At times the pain was so severe, that I even picked up a knife, and seriously thought of driving it deep into my womb – my useless womb, that failed to keep my oh, so precious baby safe.

I still can’t get over the guilt. Why didn’t I know she was in trouble? I fancy now, that I did, that I chose to ignore it, I can’t remember her movements in the final days… what if her hiccups were a sign of distress, and I just ignored them? What if her more painful movements were because the fluid levels were too low?

All of these thoughts go round my head, spinning me round and round, till I’m almost dizzy. I feel confused and disorientated as I try to make sense of it. I feel so overpowered, like being adrift the ocean, on a tiny piece of driftwood, trying to ride out a tsunami. I want to give into it, to drown. But I just can’t. My body betrays my heart, as it goes on beating, carries on drawing breath – continues to survive.

I want my little girl back so much. I would give anything to swap places with her. Babies aren’t supposed to die; their tiny hearts shouldn’t just stop beating. How can a life be over before it’s begun? How can such an innocent little soul deserve that? How on earth is any of this fair?

Here is the sad story, which I so wish I didn’t have the experience to share.

It was a foggy morning, Friday 28th October 2011. I remember it well. A day when you knew it would be sunny, once the initial blanket of white had lifted.

In the hospital room, that was to become my home for the next few days, I tried to peer out of the only window that wasn’t frosted. I was searching; looking at the crowds of people arriving for work, and trying to find the one – the one who could be my superhero, the one who was a miracle-maker, able to erase my pain & give my story a different ending.

But there was no miracle maker; superheroes really don’t exist. And sometimes, a story has to have an unhappy ending.

It had all begun so well. From the very first scan I was in love. The little fetal pole, with a tiny flickering heart, was the most beautiful sight to my eyes. I wish I had a picture of that scan, but, ironically, I was denied, just as I was all later scans, in complete contrast with my older daughter a year ago.

The pregnancy was easy; certainly easier than last year’s; easier in fact than with my son too. But I could never shake the feeling that there would be problems.

The triple test & the nuchal scan came back fine. The anomaly scan was great too. But still little doubts remained.

I was determined to be healthier than during my last pregnancy. I ate more carefully, cutting out all sugary foods, eating low GI foods & plenty of protein.

My blood pressure was low. The glucose tolerance test was fine. I felt great, except for crippling SPD. The only other slight concern was a petechiae rash – which is caused by bleeding under the skin. The GP wasn’t too concerned; she took bloods and wrote in my notes that I had a severe cough (which is NOT true).

As things progressed I shook off my negative thoughts and got organised. I bought a double buggy, a cocoon, Moses basket, new mattress for the crib. We got down newborn baby clothes & washed them, and I still went on a spending spree & bought several new ones.

At the 36 week scan it was confirmed that Tamsin was oblique breech – just like her sister had been last year. The scan revealed a far greater worry for me… her AFI levels – which at the 28 week scan had been 16 & on the 75th centile – were now 11 & on the 10th centile.

The registrar was unconcerned about the fall in amniotic fluid. She said that it was still within normal levels, and until it hit 5 then they wouldn’t be concerned. Of course this didn’t satisfy me – it may have been within normal levels, but it was a drop for *Tamsin* and that was a concern for me.

I was told that I’d be admitted the following Thursday, at 37 weeks, to deliver Tamsin between then and 38 weeks.

The Saturday was my son’s birthday, so I spent the day baking cakes. That weekend was fantastic; the last bit of happiness, when I was still blissfully unaware of the tragedy about to unfold.

My daughter had been waking often at night. It was during these times that Tamsin was most active. She’d try in vain to kick her sister off my lap, and I so looked forward to the future interaction of my two girls.

On Tuesday morning I woke in a panic. I realised that my daughter had slept through, and Tamsin hadn’t kicked, but as I was so deeply asleep I put it to one side.

I was busy with my daughter in the morning – it’s hard with a toddler to concentrate, so although worried, I still thought Tamsin was fine – I will NEVER forgive my arrogance that morning.

I went to meet a friend that afternoon. Again I was too busy to notice movements, but was excitedly telling my friend of my plans, going to the shops & buying more baby clothes.

That night I was more concerned. The movements were very difficult to feel , even after drinking ice cold drinks, lying on my left side etc.

We went to the hospital. The midwife placed a fetal doppler monitor on – she struggled to find a heartbeat. I knew, from the deathly silence, that all was not well. Usually you can hear swishing noises, the crackling as the baby moves, but there was nothing – nothing at all.

The midwife persisted until she found ‘a’ heartbeat low down, she then walked off to the other couple in triage. I was concerned with the heart rate – it was 112bpm, far too slow for a baby’s. Darren, who’d looked really concerned, was relieved there was a heartbeat; I was not.

A Dr came in with an ultrasound machine. He started running it over my tummy. He didn’t say a word, just stared intently at the screen, for what seemed an age. Darren looked concerned & held my hand – I felt as if the world was spinning so hard, that I was being forced through the floor.

After what seemed an eternity, the Dr suggested that we move to another room to “complete the scan in more depth”. I was worried, I very much doubted that he had good news to tell us, and as we left the triage room, the sound of another woman’s baby’s heart happily beating on a Doppler, filled me with envy.

In the next room another midwife was already waiting. I felt panicky, sick & dizzy. The Dr sat down & I never heard what he said – the sound of my heart beating in my head, drowned out the words. But I knew what he said all the same…I could see in his eyes: Our beautiful little girl’s heart had stopped beating. We begged for him to scan again. He told us that we’d have to wait till the morning for a proper scan, as he wasn’t qualified to confirm anything. I felt that I was going mad. I screamed for them to do the proper scan now, there may still be hope – why the hell were they waiting?

Darren panicked too – begging them to get her out, to save her, if there was any chance.

We were taken to a special room – The Primrose Room. This was a lovely room, with tea & coffee making facilities, a tv/dvd player, a double bed. This was our room for the night. Though I hardly slept…my heart was broken, and I still didn’t quite believe it.

The next morning we were taken to the proper scanning room. This was in the antenatal department, and it was pure hell, walking past blissfully unaware pregnant women – as I was the day before, now my innocence was gone, pregnancy wasn’t always joyful & I was facing a different future.

The consultant carried out the scan. She confirmed the baby had died. She also said there was no fluid around her – which made me so angry as they knew it was falling just 5 days before.

I was told that I’d be given a pill to take that day (weds) and would be induced on Friday. I questioned whether this was wise, as I’d had a caesarean the year before and the baby was transverse now. The consultant said a caesarean was not recommended as it was not as safe for the mother, and that the contractions would force the baby into either a breech, or cephalic position.

So we went home. It was the worst two days of my life. Strangely though, I was struck by a rainbow which appeared in the blackest sky – it seemed to have a significance, and was to become our baby’s middle name.

On the Friday the induction began – as I said at the beginning no superhero appeared.

The contractions began around lunchtime, but were easy to manage, and we were blessed with fantastic midwives. By the evening I did need something stronger, and was given diamorphine. This had an unusual effect on me. It started by making me chilled, then very drowsy. I fell asleep, but was woken by Darren, after my breathing became very laboured & wheezy.

When awake I became aware of very strong pain… and total confusion. It was like being cast into a nightmare. I had no concept of where I was, I didn’t know anyone – except Darren; though I didn’t know who he was, just that he should be looking after me, but he was trying to make me stay – stay in this place which was like a nightmare. I struggled with the pain, so I was given another shot of diamorphine – this again sent me to sleep, and again I had trouble breathing. I’ve since discovered that diamorphine is pure grade heroin, and am pleased to say that I could NEVER be an addict.

I asked for, and was eventually given, an epidural. Even that didn’t go to plan, as the first attempt hit the wrong space, just like every cannula attempt that day had failed… I felt that nothing was going to plan, and I was about to be proved very right.

The next 24 hours proved uneventful. I had different midwives, I wasn’t allowed to eat; labour progressed very slowly.

By Saturday evening I was put on a syntocinon drip. I was very worried as they had said they wouldn’t give it me, due to the risk of uterine rupture, but still they went ahead. By late night I had dilated from 2 – 5cm in one hour. The Dr was happy & came back an hour later. By then I’d stopped dilating. He asked the midwife to stop the drip – she refused, citing the consultant’s opinion that they should wait 3 hours. So another two hours passed. I could feel a pressure, but didn’t know what it was.

The Dr came and checked me. I’d failed to progress anymore, and the baby was still laying across the top of my uterus. He pulled the plug on my drip & went to call the consultant; he also said the baby’s cord was hanging out of me. I was scared, I asked for Darren to be woken, but the midwife refused… luckily when she left the room her student woke him for me.

The Dr came back in with a consent form for an emergency caesarean due to “obstructed labour”. I now know that meant that my contractions were strong, but the baby was stuck, and the contractions were moulding my uterus around her.

We reached the theatre. It was 2am (though more like 3am as the clocks went back an hour before). The surgery began before I knew it. It seemed an age before they got the baby out – she was in such an awkward position that they had to extend the usual cut, and then cut up each side too. In doing so they cut the major uterine blood vessels, causing a haemorrhage. It was if she didn’t want to leave me, and my body had no intention of letting her go.

My baby finally appeared beside me. She looked very much like her sister, but with differences I do not wish to share. But she was beautiful & had thick, jet black hair, so unlike either of my two older children. The umbilical cord had a true knot in it, and was wrapped twice around her neck.

The rest was pretty traumatic. The machines started going off as my blood pressure fell to 44/22, I started to fall in & out of consciousness, and was incredibly thirsty (later found out I had hypovelmic shock). There were phone calls for blood to be transported asap, and the consultant was called from his bed to repair my uterus.

Eventually I was taken to recovery & placed under a special blanket with warm air, whilst several units of blood & plasma were transfused.

When I finally went back to Primrose Room, I broke down. I howled the most animalistic cry possible; it was like a lioness crying for her cub. The pain was so intense, so shocking, so agonising – I could hardly breathe. It took ages for it to pass, and the memory of it still chills me & chokes me up.

The day passed in a blur. I was in physical, as well as emotional pain. I had my beautiful baby, and I could hold her. But I could never hear her cry. Her little body – which used to prod me from the inside, was floppy. Her muscles, which she used to flex so well, were now useless. I ached, and ached for her. I yearned to hear her cry, I prayed for her eyes to open.

We had photos taken, we dressed her, had foot & hand prints taken…and we cried. The next day we had her blessed; we also left hospital and beautiful Tamsin behind, my dad & Amber being the only two family members to meet Tamsin.

We saw Tamsin again – twice. We dressed her in her final outfit, and took the first one home. We gave her a card, put our photos in with her, gave her two teddies that we’d slept with. I longed to see her again, but was advised against it.

The final time we saw Tamsin was at 9pm on Saturday 5th November 2011. It was our second wedding anniversary, and forever more our anniversary & bonfire night, will be tinged with bittersweet memories, and an added poignancy.

The sky was alight with dazzling fireworks on the way to the hospital. I’d always loved fireworks, but the glittering, dazzling displays; the shrieks & bangs, did nothing to alleviate my sorrow, instead they just added to the drama of it all, as if the world was joining in with saying goodbye – as if Tamsin’s last goodbye was being celebrated with bang…this did nothing to help life my heavy heart though, and my heart & tears were as thick as the heavy smog, created by the gunpowder and bonfires.

I didn’t want to let her go that night, I desperately tried to imprint her weight in my memory, and how she felt in my arms. How she smelt – every facet of her being.

The next day we went back to the same ward. I’d called my midwife, as I was feeling ill, and during her observations she hit two yellow boxes, this meant a trip back to labour & delivery, on the obstetrician’s request.

Tamsin Rainbow Scott was born asleep on 30th October 2011 at 2.26am GMT.

Monday, 10 August 2009


I find poetry a good way of releasing one's inner turmoils/thoughts. I love writing, and have recently had some really positive news from a publisher. Whilst I can't share that, I thought I would include some of my own poetry here. Some rhymes, some doesn't... The first two, are the heaviest, please feel free to skip through & leave comments if you wish.
P.S I have neither grey hair, nor wrinkles, and certainly hope I don't have grandchildren (older and desolate winter) I was just imagining the future.

I Am

I feel pain just as much as you; I may not shout about it, I do not burden you with it, like you do with me, I swallow it down, smile and pretend it's not there,
But it is just as real; it makes me tremble and shiver under it's grip,
I feel the overwhelming grip of despair, as I succumb, falling under, almost choking on the strangle hold it has over me, unable to call out as the words die in my throat,
But although the pain is as crippling as yours, I do not inflict it on you, I do not use you as if an aspirin, hurting you to relieve my suffering
My pain may be less than hers, or more than his, but it is mine; I cannot feel your pain, nor you mine, it is ours to feel alone

I bruise just like you. I do not display the purple and yellow-blotched skin in the way of human peacocks, intoxicated with the adrenaline of fighting
I do not have the shiny, silvery streaks in my milky white skin that show where sharp metal, ferociously slashed both skin and sinew, flashing silver light followed by by deep red splashes as the cold, hard metal beat softer organic matter
My bruising is invisible to the eye; like an apple whose perfect exterior belies a soft, mushy flesh
My bruising begins just below the skins surface, slowly growing inwardly, rotting towards my heart
My flesh begins to turn mushy, the hardness melts away... the bruise overtakes all in its wake
But to the outside it is unseen: a flaw of the human eye that not all bruises are invisible

I am not a warrior, standing proud in the battlefield, sword held aloft, the bodies of my fallen enemies at my feet, the smell of victory in my nostrils
I am not a Gladiator riding a chariot; sweat pouring off me, adrenaline coursing through my veins, making me feel vibrant with life
I am an ant, invisible in the throng of life, one cog in the wheel, one life that is very ordinary
I am a bee, existing just because it does not know what else to do. Every breath, every heartbeat, just an autonomic function. Every thought, unbidden

I am not the wing beneath your wings; I do not lift you up, or pull you down
I am just me
I am


Away my feet softly go
The path I have travelled is now invisible
The tracks of time covering my footfalls
My existence lost to the world

The agony of leaving you bears heavy in my heart
The memory of our life imprinted on my brain
Every laugh, every tear, every touch, every kiss
Fills me with a longing, for a past forever lost

I hear you calling to me, but cannot reply
Your cries of despair, so mournful, must remain unanswered
I cannot wipe the tears from your eyes, for now they must remain obscured
Until time erases them, and plants a smile on your face

You must face the world alone now; I can no longer protect you
The path you choose, must be walked alone
The problems you face must be solved by you
I cannot help, nor cry, nor answer you

Forever I will be in your heart, though my physical entity has ceased
No longer does my heart beat
No more deep breaths of air, will my hungry lungs consume
I am but a memory, an imprint on the fabric of life
My stain is fading, but will never completely go

You my love are life
You must suck in air
Your heart must continue to beat
You must continue to dream, feel pain, be happy and sad
For you are life, and I am just a ghost


Each line on my face, every wrinkle tells a story
I wear them with pride, my own badge of glory
Joy, pain, despair and sorrow
There is no shame in the path I chose to follow

Grey hair I cherish you, the bane of the others
You sprout from my body, clinging like old lovers
I won't cover you up, hide you from sight
You are a thing of such beauty, all silver and white

I am a wise old owl, not cluttered with 'stuff'
Unlike the young, I take the smooth with the rough
I know my own mind, I know where I'm going
And, never get distracted by wild oats that need sowing

Change places with a teenager...? No way!
I like 'real' music, not the noise that they play
Computers, Gameboys?? - I prefer a good book
If I want cyberspace, it's to the night sky I look

I am like a tree, all gnarled and knotted
But not invisible... my wisdom is spotted
And when the grand kids come to stay
I regale them with stories, of back in 'my day'


Wind; my most vicious and fatal enemy
My Achilles Heel, the thorn in my side, the itch I can't scratch, is approaching faster and faster

Coming from the arctic north, it takes no hostages as it devours all in its wake

I stand tall and firm, my roots solidly in the ground, awaiting its onslaught
The tree around me rustle as the tendrils approach; like an invisible black shroud
Fingers reaching our, gently caressing, before going for the kill

At last it reaches me, stripping me naked of the last of my leaves
Naked for the world to see, my bare bones open to the elements
High above the birds squawk as they are buffeted on their wings
My branches ache and groan as they are shaken helplessly around, every cold, icy blast, stings deep inside
I surrender and then sleep until spring

The sunlight awakens me... the fizzy feeling of new buds beginning to grow within my aged wood
My bare winter uniform, so dark, so cold, is replaced by green; the world is alive again

Birds begin to nest again, branches felled by the wind, become their new homes
Birds and insects find sanctuary within my frame
Families picnic under my shade
The wind, such a mortal enemy in winter, now brings a refreshing, cooling breeze
I breathe life in, and breathe life out

The Parting

Why does the earth still turn? On it's axis spinning around the sun, blissfully unaware of the turmoil it carries around
Why does the sun still shine? Filling every living thing with life, trying to cajole us into happiness
Why does the moon still appear every night at my window? Mocking me with fake concern
Why does my heart still beat? Working tirelessly against me, pretending nothing has happened... that it is not broken

I wish my heart would stop... I will it to
I wish my lungs would refuse the air they so greedily breathe
I don't want to awake after every nights tormented dreaming
My body has it's own agenda, and against me it is scheming
I wish to be out of here, stop the world, I want to get off!

I am unseen to the earth; just another passenger, as it travels through space
The sun doesn't notice my despair; it continues to bring life and warmth
The moon will continue to look down kindly on me
And my heart will continue to beat

For although we are not together, we are both on the earth
We are both passengers through space
Our journey is the same to the earth
Though separate for us

The same sun will continue to nurture us
We both feel the same warmth
We both eat food, given life from the sun
We both continue to feel happy in the sun's presence, no matter how hard I try not to

We both look upon the same moon, it watches over both of us
We still share our secrets with it
And the moon will keep those secrets safe
While providing us both with light, in the deepest, darkest nights

I let you go, and my heart will betray my pain
I will laugh, but you will not be forgotten
The wind you feel around will whisper my love to you
The dusts you see in sunlight are the kisses I send you

Desolate Winter

Desolate winter, come swallow me up
My life, now so fragile, like a broken paper cup
The stranger in the mirror has a face I don't recognise
A pale imitation of me, like a ghost in disguise

The ravages of time turn my once bright hair grey
Like the windswept, barren landscapes, where I once used to play
The fragments of my life lay scattered and blown
Like dead leaves in autumn, after a gale's havoc is sown

Who am I? Where am I? Where did I go?
My vibrance once strong, now nothing to show
Where does youth go? No one will know

(c) Sarah Green 2009

Saturday, 21 March 2009

Foods that can harm, or kill your dogs

With Easter approaching, and with it the huge amount of chocolate and hot cross buns, simnel cake around, I want to share with you the human foods that can be harmful, or in the worse cases, fatal to dogs.

Most people are aware that chocolate is a no no for our canine friends; what is more alarming is that few people are aware of how many other, seemingly innocuous foods, that are also to be avoided.

So please read, and pass this on to friends or relatives you have, to help keep our faithful friends happy and healthy.

The most widely known toxic human food is chocolate, almost all dog lovers know this; not all chocolate products are equal in toxicity. Dark chocolate (and cocoa powder) with a high cocoa content is worse than milk chocolate. The ingredient in chocolate that causes the problem is theobromine, it can cause vomiting, diarrhoea, abnormal heart rhythm and in the worst case death. White chocolate doesn't have theobromine, but does have a high fat and sugar content so should be avoided.

Caffeine and coffee should also be avoided as it contains the same compound found in theobromine, and causes the same problems.
*Grapes and raisins; this is a fairly recent discovery. But it is almost more fatal than chocolate!!!!
An unknown compound exists in them which causes renal failure. I cannot stress enough the importance of keeping your pet away from these fruits!!!! A very few can be fatal, and by the time the symptoms of toxicity are visible it is often too late, and any treatment would be futile. If your dog eats any amount of grapes or raisins (even only a few) it is vital to get them to a vet within four hours (ideally far less). The treatment is induced vomiting, activated charcoal, an IV drip for a few days to flush out the kidneys. Sometimes even this fails. Please do not wait and see if your dog becomes unwell before seeking help; by the time they do the kidneys may have already been damaged beyond repair. I know a dog who ate just four; the owners got him to the vet quickly, and he was given the regime above; if vets take it this seriously you should. I've also heard of dogs who've not seen a vet till they displayed signs of illness: they all died. Some dogs are not affected, but do not risk it. Also never feed a dog cookies, cake or hot cross buns with raisins in.

Onions; whether raw, cooked or powdered - all forms of onions should be avoided. It has an effect on the red blood cells, causing them to burst, leading to haemolytic anaemia, in the worst cases dogs need blood transfusions to survive. Chives, shallots all have a similar effect, though with garlic a lot more would have to eaten before any bad effects would occur.

Macadamia nuts including macadamia butter, are toxic to dogs.

Avocados, cause vomiting, diarrhoea, and in some cases heart congestion.

Yeast dough (uncooked) causes gas. bloating and can rupture the intestines or stomach.

Raw eggs, they contain a compound which affects a dogs coat and skin.

Xylitol; causes liver failure, it is very toxic to dogs. It is found in a lot of human products such as sugar free sweets, chewing gum, toothpaste, yoghurt's etc.

Bones; frequently seen in vet surgeries, can cause blockages that need to be removed surgically. My sister's dog had to be seen as a medical emergency after giving her dog a raw hide bone (for dogs). Never let your dog have chicken bones.

Corn on the cob; the most common way for a dog's intestine to be blocked, often seen in vet surgeries, (do not confuse with sweetcorn, frozen or tinned)

Salmon, raw or cooked; can contain a parasite, not destroyed by cooking, which affects dogs but not humans. Trout is the same. It is also not recommended to feed dogs any other kinds of fish without cooking them first.

Baby food, due to the presence of onion powder.

Mushrooms, can cause toxicity.

Pits from peaches, apricots cherries etc, and apple pips, contain small amounts of cyanide.

Broccoli, should never account for than 10% of a dogs diet.

Finally nutmeg, and rhubarb leaves are poisonous. And never give your dog human pills or vitamins.

These are the most hazardous foods that your dog is likely to come into contact with.

I hope this helps you to keep your dog safe

Wednesday, 11 March 2009

Lost Generation

Lately I have found myself changing: not sure if it's a good or a bad thing, but then all change does incorporate good and bad, I guess.

I've always been very caring, warm and empathetic. It had reached the point where I sublimated my own desires and needs for those around me. Whilst it is admirable to have compassion and humanity, it can become overwhelming, and ultimately leads to vulnerability of self; along with feelings of loss of identity, and purpose.

I have a good friend, who is the daughter of my parents. I have tried to help her, but, due to certain reasons, have found it impossible, at times. She also lives in Scotland so it is difficult to give her tangible support.

Maddie * has a lot of problems. She comes from a pleasant family, and every thing she has wanted has been supplied... except, I imagine, love, as she sees it. Maddie has one brother who seems to naturally have an easier life than her; He excelled academically and was more popular. In response to this, and to gain attention Maddie decided to rebel. She started to stay out late, took drugs, started drinking excessively, and 'sold ' herself for easy money.

The attention Maddie gained fuelled a pattern of behaviour in her, one which is still pervasive. Although she is now in her late 20s she continues to mourn the loss of security she felt when young.

Her behaviour has led to devastatingly destructive effects on her, both mentally and physically. The casual sex, and sharing of needles, has led to her contracting a serious sexual disease. She has a love/hate relationship with her body; craving warmth and affection, then shying away from it. She was married for a short time, and the break up made her problems worse.

Her life is a mess; a living car crash in motion. She is frequently taken advantage of by men; but despite the huge amount of support and care directed her way, Maddie refuses to accept it. She has played the role of victim for so long, she doesn't know what else to do. Every day seems to bring about a fresh drama, and it is wearing for those close to her.

Maddie has been encouraged by those closest to her to seek help, from mental health teams, and drug and alcohol counsellors, but as yet is below the radar of these organisations.

I have tried my hardest to be there for Maddie. It can be dangerous, as she is prone to sudden anger and violence, for which, as yet, she has evaded trouble. She can also be manipulative, and it is necessary to protect yourself from it; both trying to encourage others into illicit activities, to emotional blackmail if she doesn't get her own way.

I won't give up on Maddie; I feel it is so sad that in our society we have a lost generation of people like her; consigned to the scrapheap, forced to live each day out under a drunken, foggy stupor. The world passing them by, while for them, each day blends into the next, inebriated to numb the pain of a cold, uncaring world.

There are lots of people who are caring, and dedicate their lives to helping those like Maddie; some like Maddie refuse the help, preferring to walk a solitary, painful path. Others rejoice at the care others show... I just help that Maddie can realise this before it's too late.

* Name changed to protect identity

Saturday, 7 March 2009

How I came to be where I am now

I'm going to be posting new blogs expanding on the information included in my introduction, along with other topics, please be free to add any comments.

I'm one of those people who are easily distracted from my aims (possibly due to bipolar, maybe just my character).

My first career goal was to be a singer; I did dip my toes into it, and performed with a band, but found writing songs more enjoyable.

When choosing my A Levels I'd decided I wanted to be a criminal psychologist; however we had a psychometric test and my scores, though good enough for psychology, showed my best match would be journalism. I carried on with my A Levels, including psychology... but by then my goals had changed.

I studied Media & Performing Arts at Amersham College for a year, then did BA (hons) degree in Film, Media & Culture. It was here that I discovered a love of writing... particularly scripts. In the degree we learnt film editing, camera work etc. We produced our own (highly embarrassing) films. But there was no journalistic training.

After my degree I found it very hard to break into the industry, and due to financial pressure, had to get a regular office job... umm not ideal! I did keep my hand in the entertainment industry by having small parts in films, most consigned to the cutting room floor though :(

I've always been interested in nutrition; probably through having suffered from anorexia and bulimia when younger. This led me later to take a further qualification in nutrition. I developed a passion for the holistic side of nutrition; how it affects not just our physical well being, but also our mental condition: I will post a further blog on nutrition at a later date.

Once qualified I set up my own business, and have published articles on nutrition.

Right now I am returning to my love of writing... so many things have happened to me recently, and I have discovered that creativity is very important to me, I even recently discovered a talent for drawing, hitherto unknown.

It is disconcerting to not be sure where you are going, but now I am set on a course and finally have decided not to be 'distracted' by other's opinions.