Coco Campbell

Ok so this blog post is a little different. I’ve had a shit few days (trying to ween myself off of the anti depressants – never fun) but I’m not going to dwell on that because I feel like the worst thing to do right now would be to indulge in my irrational thoughts. When I come off of anti depressants (I say it like it’s a regular thing haha – usually it’s just been because I forget and only remember I haven’t been taking them when I’ma blubbering mess on the floor and can’t function – this time it’s a controlled decision) my anxiety usually sky rockets. It has done this again. I become paranoid and think that all of my friends and family and boyfriend and pets and basically anyone and everyone hates me and is out to get me. Obviously this isn’t true (part of me still questions this but I’m gonna trust people who care about me that it’s not true) so there is absolutely no value in spending time thinking about these thoughts, when I spend the rest of my time tying to distract myself from them.





Images from

This is my personal thank you to Jeffrey Campbell for being such a fucking legend. (Jeffrey Campbell is the designer of these boots for anyone not in the know, please get in the know for future reference *sassy finger emoji* – jks don’t let anyone tell you what to do) I would like to own both these pairs of boots – I feel they reflect my soul in boot-form, and I will tell you why.

Leather is the ultimate soul-mirror because at times, I am a cow. NOT INTENTIONALLY, but let’s face it, living with someone who has a mental health condition can be challenging for the best of ’em. Including myself!! It’s hard to deal with my own conditions, and also I’m not gonna pretend I’m a saint, I find it hard to deal with it when people close to me are suffering a low. That doesn’t make you not understanding or not caring, or a bad person, or selfish – it makes you human and it is hard to know what to do and to feel like all your effort isn’t making a difference. You’ve just got to remember that it is, even if you can’t see the difference being made. Even if the person who is struggling can’t notice the difference being made – it would be much much worse if your efforts weren’t there. Think about it like this – when you have a headache and you’ve taken some paracetamol and you think omg this stupid tablet hasn’t even touched my  brain ache but then you realise ‘holy shit if it feels this painful AFTER taking paracetamol, imagine how unbearable it would be if I didn’t take any!!’ You, my friend, are the paracetamol.

Secondly, the metal chainage makes the shoe look BADASS, but we all know that underneath are some cute, little, soft, podgy toes. Unless the wear-er hasn’t had a pedi in a while and they have dried skin, in which case, the toes would be cute, little and podgy, but not necessarily soft. Everyone has their tough armour on the exterior but you never truly know a person until you’ve seen their toes. I mean this in both the literal and metaphoric sense. If you haven’t seen someone’s toes then you don’t bloody know ’em well enough. You’ve not worn flip flops together, you’ve not hung out sockless – you just don’t know them. And metaphorically, you’ve not seen their vulnerable side that they carry under their armour. Some have thicker armour than others, and some hide more under their armour, but everyone does it to an extent. No on is as badass as they make out (except for me).

And thirdly, the holes. I’ve got loads of holes (lol I’ll let you make of that what you will). Holes/gaps/space – places that need to be filled! (this is getting worse and worse I love it). Spaces in my personality, soul, whatever you want to call it that I haven’t yet decided what should be there. It takes time to work out who you are and that sounds so lame but it’s only lame if you’re a lame, narrow minded person. How on earth at 21, with the limited life experience I have, am I meant to know exactly who I am, what I like, what I dislike, who I want to be etc?! It’s utterly ridiculous (Omg that just reminded me of a book we read in school called ‘utterly me, clarice b’ or something – if you remember this book please let me know so we can fangirl(or boy) over it together). And it’s ok – after some stern talking to myself I have decided that I don’t expect myself to have it all worked out ( I still take persuasion to believe this because I WANT EVERYTHING TO BE PERFECT NOW), so if anyone else does think that at 21 people should have it all worked out they can have a big slice of fuck-off-cake – I don’t need that shit. JUST DO YOU BABE, JUST DO YOU. *disclaimer – this is not an excuse to be a lazy waste of space* **disclaimer 2 – humans are never a waste of space – everyone has worth and value**


Ok, that’s me done.

Thank you chickadeelovelykins for reading my ramblings and big love to you all. Get in touch!!!!! comment, share, let’s chat!!! It feels weird writing to a virtual audience without picturing your lovely faces and personalities. Please be my friends, I’m lonely this side of the computer screen (wow that sounds unintentionally deep)


xxxxxxxxx have a good week xxxxxxxxx

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