Dreams do come true, if only we wish hard enough. You can have anything in life if you will sacrifice everything else for it.

Porthos dreams of being a bear, and you want to shatter those dreams by saying he's *just* a dog? What a horrible candle-snuffing word. That's like saying, "He can't climb that mountain, he's just a man", or "That's not a diamond, it's just a rock." Just.

Happy St. Andrew's Day everyone.  Had a bit of a crappy night last night, so I'm going to just take the time to write down everything that I want to achieve in life.

<3 Go to Mountview
<3 Become an Actress
<3 Write Stories
<3 Spend a bloody fortune at the Harry Potter Studio Tours
<3 Be in EastEnders for a bit
<3 Be in Films
<3 Play Christine professionally
<3 Play Eponine professionally
<3 Play Fantine professionally
<3 Play Wendy professionally
<3 Learn French
<3 Learn how to paint
<3 Learn hot to sew
<3 Learn Ballet
<3 Learn Russian
<3 Get married and have loads of children
<3 Get loads of pets
<3 Spend a year on Broadway
<3 Get good at Photography
<3 Forgive
<3 Get in the habit of getting up early on Sunday's to go to Church on time
<3 Visit my Granddad's grave
<3 Hit that E flat
<3 Learn the meaning of Bohemian Rhapsody
<3 Do something political that will help people
<3 Spend a year in Africa or somewhere teaching English/building wells etc. etc.
<3 Write a book of cocktails
<3 Try every cocktail on the Chiquito's menu
<3 Have the most beautiful house ever.  No stairs, just fireman poles and ladders.  No doors, just portraits and bookcases all of different heights so you have to crawl or to climb to get from room to room.
<3 Play Anne Boleyn and win an Oscar for it
<3 Be in a Tim Burton film with Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham-Carter
<3 Meet J.K Rowling and thank her
<3 Look in the mirror and smile

So I think I've got a lot for myself to be getting on with by now.  I'll add to it in the years to come methinks, but for now it'll do.  I can't imagine growing old.  But I will.  I'll grow old and I'll hit people who I don't like with my walking stick (that I don't actually need) and pretend to be deaf and forgetful just as a wind up.  Although, knowing me these things will actually happen.

When the first baby laughed for the first time, its laugh broke into a thousand pieces, and they all went skipping about, and that was the beginning of fairies.

When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me.

There are a lot of people who inspire me.  Whether I know them or not I look at them and feel hope.

My parents.  God they wind me up sometimes.  But I am so grateful for them.  The stuff that they have done for me.  They really do put up with some crazy shit.  Parents are also so insanely wise, aren't they?  You don't realise that until you get a little bit older.  Don't be friends with her - she's a bitch, focus on what you want for yourself not what you should want, and so many more other things.  I love and appreciate them so much, but I don't think that I can ever show it properly.

This is Katie.  And this little girl is my world.  Honest to God.  If you're feeling really down in the dumps, and you've watched about 300 Disney films and it has still yet to take any effect, then this little girl with come in with a great big smile just for you.  And you know, if you're feeling really happy and creative she has Barbie's and a tea set and paint and crayons and all those little kid stuff that you can use for yourself too.

Although we don't talk all that often, I often see Crisi as a sort of big sister.  She's so easy to talk to, and talked to her I have about what's been going on.  She has a beautiful blog she posts in and I advise you to check it out.  alittlefeisty.blogspot.co.uk

My bestie.  Whenever I've been down and whingey and moaney she's never gone, 'oh get over yourself'.  She is actually one of the nicest people you will ever meet.  Seriously.  I missed some days off school because I was unhappy, and you know what she did?  She made me a stress basket.  She filled it with stuff to make me smile.  Not many people would do that for me.  And I cannot thank her enough for always being there.

My Drama Group.  This was my rabbit hole.  I could just escape there and be me and it was fine.  I love all of these guys so much I can't tell them.  When I've been sitting in my counselling rooms, they've looked up at me in surprise and they're like, 'So, you like performing?'  But the wonderful thing about Drama is that you don't have to be you.  You can be whoever you want to be.

Which leads me onto my next inspiration 'I'm the kind of actress who has ventured into escaping me'.  Helena Bonham-Carter has had a bit of a hard life.  I say bit, but I don't mean like oh shit I spilt the milk, I mean not dying of famine in Africa.  Ok, so she's been through a lot.  But look at her now.  Look at how well she's doing with her life.  That's what I want to aim for.  She's how I want to be.

So, I didn't believe ghosts until I met Anne Boleyn.  I've always been fascinated by her since I was about eight years old.  There was a whole section about her in my Tudor Book on King Henry VIII.  The other wives were scarcely mentioned and she had a whole two pages to herself.  I remember reading and rereading that section over and over again in the back of my dad's car.  She''s an inspiration to me as being a strong woman and coping with so much.  One day, when things got difficult and I was ready to leave, I saw and I felt her arms wrap around me from behind.  She held me.  Now in the darkest times she comes along and just smiles at me.  That's all.  But it's enough.

Fairies have to be one thing or the other, because being so small they unfortunately have room for one feeling only at a time.

Once upon a time there was a little girl who would walk through the countryside with those who loved her.  She did not know much of the world and its cruelties as she had been protected and cherished, a child never forgets their first unfairness and she clung onto hers as proof that she wasn't as perfect as she would have liked to be.  The little girl grew up and began to notice how those around her were perfect.  She began to feel unhappy, until a little red balloon floated her way.  The girl caught it and it wrapped tightly around her wrist.  The red balloon began to lift her up into the sky and the girl felt happy.  Her companions tugged onto her saying that it wasn't safe, but she kicked them away.  Higher and higher she rose until she could no longer see her loved ones.  As she floated towards the sun she grew hotter and hotter and she grew into a panic as she began to burn.  The sun was so hot that it soon burst her red balloon and the girl fell crashing down into a blue lagoon.  She lay there for days.  She felt ashamed and unhappy.  Her companions called to her, but she did not feel worthy enough to be with them and turned her face away into the water to drown.  The girl felt herself be dragged out of the water, propped up on her feet and made to walk on the grass again.  Sometimes she stumbled on the dips in the ground, or cried as lightening came her way.  But other times she smiled when she saw the nicer things.  She smiled and smiled, and a red balloon came floating her way.


That's the only way I know how to describe it.  I think that it started in Secondary School.  I thought that when I left it would be easier and all of that would go away.  But it started to come apparent to me that it was getting worse.  For years I had been passing it off as being attention-seeking, or that I was hormonal.  But then I started to get scared.  They put me on medicine which improved things somewhat, but when I went to talk to someone I felt like a piece of shit - like a time waster.  They got me to balance eggs and to pop bubble wrap.  I'm not sure why.  They wouldn't answer my questions because I was under eighteen and eventually it was decided that I would leave because rather than drawing pictures of smiley faces like they wanted me to - I just cried and screamed.

I had to wait until I was eighteen to go to another counsellor.  In the meantime I worked on trying to fix myself.  A few months later an appointment was made.  I turned up and they'd done a cock up on the system so I was double booked and was asked to leave.  It sounds silly, but I swore then that I wouldn't go back.  I'd forced myself out of bed, I'd got myself ready to open up and then I had to shut in down.  My Mum convinced me to go back, which I did reluctantly.  I had an interview with the woman.  I can't remember what she said, but I felt like such a waste of time afterwards.  She pointed me the direction of other places I could go to instead.

So all in all, my trying to get better hasn't been very successful.  Once in a while I think that if there really is nothing wrong with me, then I can stop taking my medicine.  That always ends in disaster.

I'm not looking for sympathy.  I don't know what I'm looking for.  A way out really.  I don't know what's going on in my body.  I don't know if it's something that I need to talk about.  Or if everyone has their own red balloon.