Splat The Rat!

I’m laid in bed, I can hear a scratching noise and I see something out of the corner of my eye. Shooting out of bed, I grab one of my husbands shoes and wait. After a while the rat darts from under the bed and I swipe at it, hitting dead center in the back. It’s stunned a bit but gets right up off it’s side and makes a go for the cupboard, taking a route through a scattering of shoes. I bring the shoe down again but I miss. This rat’s fast! I get one more hit at it before it disappears into the open cupboard and I dive after it, dragging stuff out of the way until I find the hole it went down. As I look into the hole, in the darkness I can see a pair of eyes looking back at me. Determined to get the bugger, I shove my hand down there but it’s too late. The rat has scarpered.

Never mind, I think, I’ll get you one day!

Interpretation using dreammoods.com-

  • Shoes, in general represent my approach to life. Because it was an old worn shoe, it indicates I will find success through hard work and diligence. I have to come to terms about who I am.
  • The rat signifies doubt, greed, guilt unworthiness and envy. I’m keeping something to myself that is eating me up inside or I have done something I’m not proud of.

My Interpretation –

My husband keeps leaving his shoes about the house and we’ve had a rat problem.

Keep dreaming!


Two Years Ago

Two years ago today, I suffered my first miscarriage. It was a traumatic and heart breaking experience that I’ll never forget. As I started the long recovery, I realised that the subject of miscarriage is not talked about and so I set about writing my experiences down.

I’ve been very lucky that two personal essays that I have written have been published and have set in motion my aim of getting people to talk about the topic and their experiences.

My most recent work can be found at –


My other personal essay can be bought at –


Proceeds for Out of Body Experience go to charity.

Thanks for looking.

Brief and Odd

These were on different nights and this is all I remember of them;

  • Presenting an award of sorts to Sean Bean.
  • Shooting an action scene with Daniel Craig. We’re both dressed completely in black and he stops filming to show me that he has spam on his top.
  • Hugh Jackman is a bouncer at my local cinema. Only the cinema is downstairs instead of upstairs. I keep walking past him trying to get his attention.
  • Waking up next to Aiden Turner with paint on his face.

I’ve not watched anything recently with any of these guys in so there’s been nothing to influence my dreams, they are just incredibly random and there are no words to describe how odd the second one is but, hey, that’s my brain for you.

Needless to say, I’m not interpreting them. I don’t think it’s possible!

Keep dreaming!

Just Keep Talking

The other night I had a dream that made me realise something.

It was a normal-ish dream, apart from the fact I wanted to confess my undying love for someone in the work place, that is. That person, not someone I know personally but is in one of my favourite telly programmes (no, it’s not MacGyver), seemed to like me too as we’ve had a few ‘moments’ but as I’m waiting for him on our lunch break (break from what, I don’t know, I have no idea what my job is) he blanks me completely and proceeds to tell someone his girlfriend is pregnant. For some reason, I go mental. Start shouting and swearing at him. He never told me he had a girlfriend, and just what the hell was he doing getting her pregnant? I get carted off by who I can only assume is my boss. He just wraps his arms around me, lifts and walks off with me and shoves me into an office and yells that I can’t act like that. What the hell made me start yelling at my colleagues? And slams the office door. He waits and eventually I tell him what it was that made me start yelling. “I’ve had two miscarriages,” I say and then tell him everything about how difficult it’s been, how it still hurts. When I’m finished, he’s nodding and he asks me, “do you ever talk about this?” My answer is no. I don’t.

That’s when I woke up and I realised, that as random as that dream was, I don’t talk about it. I don’t talk about my two miscarriages even though I’ve written about them for others too read to try get people to talk about it. I’ve had people contact me on social media telling me that I can talk to them, they’re there if I ever need them. Not to worry about even saying ‘hi’ just talk about what I need to. Have I taken these people up on their offers? Nope. Why? Possibly because I’m an idiot and would rather suffer on my own instead of leaning on others when I really need to. Or maybe, sometimes, it’s just too hard to talk about.

So, I’m going to talk about my miscarriages and why this January was a really, really shit month for me.

One thing you must understand is that when you find out you’re pregnant and given a due date, it sticks with you. It doesn’t matter that none of it’s going to happen, that it should be forgotten about, that it’s “no more”. It sticks with you.

When I first fell pregnant back in 2015, there was a girl in my workplace who also fell pregnant the same time as me. Was due the same time that I would have been. I lost my baby and then had to return to work and live with the fact that there was someone I would have to see and talk to who was going through everything that I wasn’t going to go through. The scans, the tiredness, the excitement. Would be going on maternity leave when I should have been and having her baby when I should have been having mine. It’s safe to say that this hampered my recovery. Already devastated and heart broken from my loss, it was like having my nose rubbed in it. It wasn’t. But that’s what it felt like. It was a constant reminder of what I’d lost. What I couldn’t have.

During this time, one of my closest friends fell pregnant. Now even though this friend was (and still is) wonderful, tactful and caring, it still hurt. A lot. It was only because of how much I love my friend that I managed to come to terms with it. Accept it even. I felt like I was a really shit friend during her pregnancy because I was going through so much emotional turmoil, I just couldn’t be there for her. Be excited for her, for that one thing she’d been longing for. Even so, she is still my friend to this day and I hope will be very a very long time.

Anyway, I had this idea that once October was out of the way (when I would have been due and when my colleague was due) I’d be okay. October was a rough month and I did feel a bit better but then I had January looming over me. Eventually, January came and my friend’s gorgeous baby was born. It was still difficult but I knew it would get better. It did. Apart from the overpowering, all consuming need to be pregnant. That didn’t ease until I gave up on the idea.

It took almost a year until I fell pregnant for the second time. Of course, I miscarried. On my husbands birthday.

I threw myself into carrying on with things, life, like last time and was doing pretty well until there were two announcements on social media at roughly the same time. That’s right. Two people I knew were due exactly when I would have been, in January. Two. It was like being kicked in the teeth, having my nose rubbed in it all over again but at least I didn’t have to see these people. Now, these two women are lovely. I’ve worked with both of them and both of them deserve happiness and lots of positive things but it still hurt. Luckily, neither of them filled my news feed with scan pictures or baby stuff. Because of this, I managed to carry on. Now, I’m not saying I forgot about my second loss but I didn’t keep either being reminded or reminding myself at the stage I should have been at. I “moved on” more successfully but never forgot. You don’t forget. Like I said, it sticks with you.

Then January came and I realised that it was January. I know it’s all ‘should have, would have could have’ and ‘if only’ but that was when I would have been due and within the same week, two babies were born.

I spiralled into a deep depression. Actually, I don’t think I even spiralled. I was just dropped in it.

When I use the the word depression, I do not use it lightly. I have suffered with depression since I was 14. I know what it is. It has followed me round ready to dig it’s viscous claws back in right when I’m doing okay. I have been on medication several times. Received therapy and counselling. I have methods for dealing with it all, for climbing the walls of that bottomless pit of inky darkness that swells up over my head, dragging me down, taking all of my energy and suffocating me. I know I can get out of it. It’s a long haul and I’m thoroughly exhausted at the end but I can do it. I will also keep on doing it for as long as I need to.

What made this period even harder for me was the fact that my friend’s daughter was turning one. I have met this beautiful baby and let me tell you, she is a wonderful, happy, gorgeous creation who is a credit to her parents. Never the less, it took me right back to how I felt when my friend told me of her pregnancy. How it felt when I was still recovering from my first miscarriage. All whilst I was dealing with the darkness that was overwhelming me because yet again, I wasn’t holding my first born in my arms but others were holding theirs.

It’s now February and I’m doing better. I think I’m about half way out of that pit, maybe a bit more but I’m getting there. I concentrate on things I enjoy, try keep my mind away from where it wants to dwell but most importantly, I acknowledge my feelings. That’s vital for recovery from just about anything I think. I acknowledge the pain, the loss, the void inside of me, the heartbreak, the devastation. I let myself cry when I need to instead of bottling it up and I acknowledge the fact that it’s okay to feel these things. To still feel these things even when others (who don’t know what they’re on about) tell you different. I may still be feeling these things in ten years time and you know something? That’s okay too. It’s also okay if I’m not. As long as I deal with it all in a way that’s right for me, it’s okay.

Yes, life goes on. Others are entitled to what you are not, what you cannot have or what keeps being taken from you. But you, someone who has suffered a miscarriage, still birth or any other devastating loss of a baby or child are entitled to mourn. Entitled to feel jealousy and anger. Entitled to talk about your loss and your feelings. But no one, and I mean no one,is entitled to make you feel bad for feeling the way you do.

So I’m going to try a little harder to talk about it and I hope you do too.

Garden Party

It’s a spectacularly hot day and I’m at a party. I’m not sure what kind of party it could be, nor do I recognise my surroundings but it’s a beautiful day and the barbecue is smoking away and people are laughing and generally having a good time. Now, when I say I’m not sure what kind of party it it’s because there’s a load of cats that have been let lose along with what seems like hundreds of butterflies and birds. I go inside and get my camera and start taking photos. The colour of everything, plants, people, animals are so crisp and clear it’s unbelievable. Also, the birds are letting me get really close to them.

After a while, people disperse along with the animals and I set about tidying up. When I go into the kitchen to see Antonio Banderas there, smiling away. He starts talking to me and takes my hands and I’m thinking “how do I know him and why is he talking to me?” then Catherine Zeta Jones storms into the room yelling that I’ve taking Antonio from her, how dare I?! And comes at me with a kitchen knife. I throw a cookery book at her and run.

I have no idea where any of this came from. It is incredibly random but I’m just grateful that I’ve remembered a dream!

A Boat, A Plane and Tom Hiddleston

I’m on a white speed boat that has a black stripe down the side of it. I can see this because for some reason I’m hanging over the side. There’s three men in the boat, one of which is Tom Hiddleston, the other men are strangers to me. The only thing I know is that it’s a clear day and we’re in a rush.

My dream jumps to us standing on an airstrip near a beach. There’s a small airplane in front of us and Tom is looking pissed off.

“Couldn’t you have got a bigger plane? You know, one with more seats?” I ask him. The plan seems to be that the men go in the plane and I wing walk. Obviously I’m not keen on the idea. I don’t even know how they got me on the speedboat but they sure as hell aren’t getting me to wing walk and I tell Tom that. We argue and he gives up, pulls out a credit card from his jacket pocket and waves it at a member of staff who nods and walks off. Tom, mumbling something under his breath, follows. It seems he’s going to get on another plane. Satisfied that I no longer have to wing walk, I clamber into the plane to find that it’s a little worse for wear. Hoping we don’t crash, I sit down, fasten my seat belt and stare at the two men in front of me.

The dream jumps again and I find myself in a navy blue dress entering a banquet hall. There’s a ridiculously long table with strangers sat around it, chatting away and generally having a good time. I spot an empty seat, grateful to see that it’s next to a friend of mine. The two men from the boat and the plane sit next to me. I start chatting to my friend and after a few minutes, a ruffled Tom Hiddleston turns up. He’s not happy because he’s late and something happened on his flight. He won’t say what, just keeps giving me angry glances and parks himself opposite me. The angry glances get more intense as my friend and I start giggling, we’re drunk and my friend, is constantly commenting on how fit she thinks Tom is and what she’d like to do with him. Her comments are hilarious, other people think so too. But Tom doesn’t. Tom gets up and walks off. My friend shouts out, “nice arse, Tom!” and cracks up laughing.

I wake up.

Interpretation using http://www.dreammoods.com-

  • The speedboat could suggest that I don’t like to dwell on my emotions.
  • The airplane could indicate that I will over come my obstacles, rising to a new level of prominence and status. Or, I need to gain a better perspective on something.
  • A banquet indicates that I am emotionally malnourished and I need emotional stimulation.

My thoughts-

I have no idea where any of this came from but I’m pretty sure I don’t need any emotional stimulation. It’s possible I may need a better perspective on something and I suppose, negative emotions, I don’t like to dwell on. As for Tom Hiddleston, I think he was only there because I saw his name on something at some point. Why I was hanging over the edge of the boat and he wanted me to wing walk, I have no idea.