Have a long hard look at this picture…

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See that blue sky? The white sand? The rolling waves? And most, importantly the rustic day bed??

Well, this time last year, I was lying on that bed! On a beach. In Mexico. Planning the first day of the rest of my life.

And now? It’s finally here!

Explanation:

This time last year I was tired of the drifting Chris and I had been doing for the previous three years (since I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder really). We were living at home in Lurgan, Northern Ireland, literally five minutes’ walk from the Oracle A.K.A my Mum Gwen and the Fixer A.K.A. my Dad Andy. Chris’s parents lived a ten minute drive away which, for him, was about 10,000 miles too close for comfort. We had the dog A.K.A Foxy, the Monkey, wee B’stard and many other names because it had been recommended by my medical professionals that I should not have children. Therefore, the big family house we had bought in 2005 seemed awfully big for just 2 peeps and one small yappy dog. I was dying for a change…

I had just fulfilled a decade-long dream of running my own Yoga & Pilates Studio in my home town but it had been a huge disappointment. Like some crazy yoga fool I believed that “if I built it they would come” but, instead, “they” believed that it was all hippy voodoo shit and I got nowhere near the numbers necessary to make the studio a long term success. However, I am proud to say that I recognised this and shut the studio down before I lost a lot of money. In fact I even had enough left over to go on a yoga retreat to Mexico (hence the picture above).

There, amongst the blue skies and white sands and healthy foods and fellow dreamers, I planned my escape from suburban Northern Ireland. I dreamt of moving full time to Tulum and learning Spanish. I dreamt of moving up to Canada to work in the studio of one of my fellow retreaters. What I did not dream of was moving to Glasgow!

I went to university here and did BOTH of my degrees in the University of Glasgow and the University of Strathclyde. I also experienced my first manic episode here aged 23 to 24 years old. Could I really return to the scene of the crime? Only time (and this blog) will tell…

hugs