Under the sea

As part of our first year anniversary celebrations, the bf and I decided to go on holiday. We booked it, packed everything and off we set.

Now, I knew at some point during this holiday, I’d be coming into contact with water. Because we’d booked a self catering studio apartment, and were stay in a harbour town, I was fairly confident I wouldn’t be seeing a swimming pool anytime soon. If you’ve been on a self catering holiday with no actual resorts to stay in…I’m sure you’ll be aware that in order to swim, one must get into the ACTUAL sea.

This doesn’t sit well with me at all as I don’t like open water, and always imagine I’ll just float out to sea and drown. This might seem over dramatic, but I can’t help my water anxiety.

My bf being the natural swimmer that he is, took straight to it and went snorkelling. It took me two days to get in the water, up to my knees….that’ll be more than enough, thank you. It was freezing and I was scared and anxious. By the 4th or 5th day I’d managed to get in, up to my waist and even manage to float and do a little doggy paddle.  

On the 6th day, the sea was far too rough, so my bf sat with me right by the shore and we giggled as we got battered by every wave that came… I felt slightly disappointed with myself for not getting in properly but the anxiety of not being able to see the floor, let alone touch it if I got into any perceived danger was too much. I need an escape route….you don’t get that safety net in the sea.

So today, the final day. I clambered over these rocks and lowered myself in slowly. It was only waist deep, but I stayed sat down and moved further and further in.  I leant back and let the water rest just above my chest. I lay like that for a good 10 minutes. Finally I felt satisfied and proud of myself. I was officially under the sea.
Water 0 – Carina 1.


I think I’ve settled down.

As you’ll probably have read from previous blog posts, my love life has always left rather a lot to be desired. Other than my longest ever relationship to date when I was 17, I’ve never managed to clock up the months, let alone the years. Previous relationships have never been quite right for me. Either I’ve been way into them and the feeling wasn’t mutual or vice versa,  they’ve annoyed me, I’ve not been able to be myself or we’ve just been too different.

On 20th May 2016, after a really shitty night, I logged onto the tinder account I hadn’t touched for months. I deleted all the previous matches and went about starting again. Off I went, through the motions of swiping left and right. Soon realising I’d become waaay more picky with a lot more lefts than rights… “Ooh he’s cute…” reads bio…. “Blah blah blah, sex, sex, sex.. Big no no.  I  matched with a few guys and didn’t really think too much of it. One guy I got chatting to was a good laugh, but the conversation soon turned sexy and too flirty for my liking. I didn’t like where it was going, so I stopped. I haven’t been THAT girl for years, and at 33 you can think again if you think I’m going back to those days.  I left it for a day or two when I got a second wind and began swiping again.  Moments later, a notification.. ‘You have a super like’… Super like you say, what is this business..?!? Having a quick look, I remembered this guy.. Wasn’t my usual type, but seemed up for a good laugh. 

After a few days of talking, I was pleasantly relieved to find out that he was a lovely guy, genuine, funny and didn’t talk about anything sexual. We clicked, straight away.  2 lush dates later, he went away on holiday for 3 weeks. I stalked him on Facebook and instagram and awaited his return.  Not long after he got back, we went to London for the weekend… And I asked him out.. I was having a fabulous time with this guy. I’d only known him for a mere 6/7 weeks, but I just knew he was what I wanted. 1 month after that, I told him I loved him and he said it back. 

Many a night and day was spent calling, texting, going on dates and just living the high life. I was so happy and loved up.

In January this year, I took the plunge and decided to move in with him.  It was a struggle at first, as I’ve never lived with a guy I like. Wasn’t quite sure how I’d cope. 6 months down the line and all is good. We bicker like normal couples and have had one big argument, but we’re good. I still live and fancy him …which is a surprise for me!😁. 

We celebrate our 1 year anniversary in July. 

Contraception : The Copper IUD and Cerelle experience 

This time last year, I was very happy living in my IUD worry free land. I’d just got one put it and thought it was the start of great things. The copper coil was everything I’d hoped for. I’m a nightmare on hormonal medication. I’ve no idea why, I just know that the implant turned me into a suicidal, weepy pyscho; who berated her bf in the streets of Northampton simply because he was breathing. 

So learning about hormone free stuff which such a revelation. I read the reviews and dealt with the insertion procedure like a champ.

I had 9 months of bliss, until an illness and a course of strong painkillers and antibiotics triggered either thrush or BV. It was so bad I felt like I needed to wear scratch mitts to stop me from ripping my insides apart. 5 minutes of ‘relieving’ myself would make me feel like I’d had an altercation with Mr Freddy Kruger. I felt like a wild animal trying to find objects to scratch myself on. Walking, wearing underwear,  going to the toilet and having sex began to get very painful, so after 4 months of suffering, I had it removed. 

My nurse suggested the implant, but I told her it’d make me crazy again. After much deliberation and insisting I know my body can’t deal with the combined pill, she suggested progesterone only. I reluctantly walked away with a 3 month supply and told my bf if you notice ANY differences in me, please, just say. 

One month later and I noticed I was a little bit more teary than usual. I’m emotional as fuck anyway, but I’d be crying at literally anything. On a positive note, I did notice that my thrush had all but disappeared (Bastard coil, I knew that was you!) 

Two months in and I noticed a lot more. I have no idea what my periods are doing. I pretty much ‘spot’ every day, which is annoying.  I’m anxious, moody, very down, emotional, exhausted. I have no desire to leave the house or participate in anything other than being at home. Oh, and my sex drive has completely fucked off. I don’t even want to have sex with myself and that’s saying something! Up until a couple of weeks ago, I didn’t even want to be touched. Now, I don’t know if anyone else has had these specific side effects, but what’s the point? If I’m taking the pill to stop pregnancy and it impacts this greatly on my sex drive, it’s ultimately useless. 

I’ve just started month 3, my final pack and I think that’s the end of my Cerelle relationship. All the sides effects are still there and I’m certain this is heading towards depression. In 3 short months I’ve completely forgotten how to feel or be my normal self. I love my boyfriend and myself far too much to let this pill impact my mental and physical health like this. 

It still puzzles me that women have to put up with this shit. How hard can it really be to make contraception with less or no side effects?! 

Too Soon

I’ve been brought up to believe relationships shouldn’t be rushed. You should always take your time..move slowly. Get to know one another properly before launching yourself into serious life changing decisions and events.

I’ve always passed judgement on others doing things quickly in relationships; moving in, getting pregnant, getting engaged and married after what seems like two minutes. “It’ll never work”has always been my mantra with these situations.  

Everything needs at least a year. I know some situations can’t be helped, but it’s always best to wait – isn’t it?

What I thought I knew

Isn’t it funny when someone breaks your heart. Not literally funny, but how that moment of heart break seemingly changes everything.

The deep despair you feel.

The rawness of emotions running through your veins and cascading through your body, with every pump of your heart.

The loneliness you feel and how you’re certain nobody will ever understand what you’re going through.

And the feeling that that’s it…you will never recover from your heart-ache. You will never meet someone that makes you feel that deeply again, or allow yourself to ever open your heart, body and soul to another person if you do.

Everything seems so final.  All your hopes, dreams and wishes dashed away. You’re left with only memories torn apart by grief and plans for a future you can only ever recall but never fulfil.

That person was your one and only, the one, your soulmate. Everything you became and were has now gone, with them, dropped like the last petal of a dry wilting rose.

In your wildest imagination, you simply can’t fathom the idea that you’ll ever recover…

Pregnancy envy

So this is a thing. I didn’t even know it was until I realised how envious I was at yet another pregnancy announcement. They just seem to be so frequent these days, I don’t understand why, or how! Well obviously I know how!

I had a dream a few months ago now that my sister was pregnant with twins. Usually these dreams for me signify actual pregnancy or illness. Just as I thought no more about it, a friend I hadn’t seen for a good while said she wanted to meet up for dinner.

I’d guessed she was pregnant before she actually confirmed she was. I congratulated her, of course I was happy for her. She deserves to be happy. But a part of me died inside for completely selfish reasons. I’ve lost another friend to the mummy brigade, I’m still not even close to ever having children of my own and that’s another person in life who’s got everything that I want.

I can tell you, it’s totally possible to smile and be happy for your friend whilst your heart fights back the desire in you to completely breakdown.

I sort of got over that. Then came another blow. A colleague entered the room one morning with a rather bloated looking belly and announced she was also expecting. Hmmm.

Why is everyone getting pregnant and I haven’t.

I know I’m not completely irrational about my feelings because someone else I know is having fertility problems and she struggles when other women announce their pregnancies. I feel jealous of her. She’s got everything in place. House, decent job, loving fiancee. I haven’t even got a quarter of that. She’d probably laugh at me if I told her I was jealous of her!

I know I’m doing that ridiculous ‘comparing myself to others’ that we as a society seem to do constantly,but I can’t help it.

Can people just stop procreating for a while please 😦

Anyone else have pregnancy envy?

Football, sport and the nation

Jesus Christ, our society is fucked!

It’s lovely to wake up to a white wash of people moaning, complaining and giving the England football team a right good bashing. What’s wrong with people!

Why doesn’t anyone ever remember that this is what England do at every tournament.. I don’t get why people are surprised. What annoys me is how we always put them on a pedestal and expect them to play like Real Madrid and then vilify them when they lose.. I don’t even know why! Having good players doesn’t make them a good team. I know they didn’t play well, but I feel for them. Must be hard to have to go through this every time they play a tournament! We love you when you win and hate you and slate you when we lose. Lovely bit of support and encouragement there, great pack mentality!

Why is it that there is an expectancy for Iceland to be shit because it’s a small country, and England to be great because we’re oh so big?! Where’s the logic in that?

Why are we always looking for blame? We seem to love negativity and hatred here. The EU referendum has highlighted that a treat. Let’s concentrate on the positives for once.
Our football team haven’t done great things, but our rugby team have done some amazing things in Australia, and won the whole series, especially when everyone doubted them. Where’s their congratulations??🏉