Tuna -Baguette Tuesdays

Time for another new music Tuesday.

Last night I was listening to my Spotify and was shuffling through the discover page.

Sometimes it’s like they don’t even take your music taste into consideration, but sometimes – sometimes – they treat you to an absolute gem.

Cat Pierce, ‘You Belong to Me’ – not new to the world, but new to me.

Cat Pierce has a voice I could listen to forever. It’s sultry, its sexy and last night it helped soothe my aching heart. This song is beautifully chilling, a powerful ballad with just a hint of a beat to help lift your spirit.

Give her a listen, it will not disappoint.




The Dreaded D

This was a post I never wanted to write. It was something I had shunned other bloggers for doing and something that I felt had become romanticised online and almost like a badge of honour, like you couldn’t possibly write content online without this one key ingredient.


I have it. But I don’t wear it as a badge of honour, I’ve worn it like a pair of out of date, button up Adidas tracksuit bottoms that should have been thrown out years ago. I wear it with utter contempt.

I trudge through the day annoyed at myself for falling into this mindset, I blamed myself for years and put it down to me just being a negative person.

Sometimes it’s hard to know what’s real in our heads and what’s not. I had a strong feeling, weeks after coming out, when I was confused – again. I asked myself, are you actually gay or do you need a little attention at the minute are you looking for the spotlight to be on you. I still have those days. Sometimes when I see a heterosexual couple on the street, looking like a pure kodak moment, I get this stab of ’Fuck maybe I’m straight.’ Then I’m in bed with my girlfriend and I swiftly come to my senses.

I feel the same way about depression, is it real or am I do I just crave extra attention.

I remember when I had an idea that something wasn’t quite right. I had just got accepted to drama school, packed my bags and moved to London ready to take on the world. I had literally made my dreams come true. Like I was in the big leagues now.

I think it took my three weeks to cry in my first voice class. And the crying did not stop for two years. I cried every time I was asked to feel anything and when I was taken aside and told to maybe get some help, I said the words uttered by every depression sufferer that ever lived ‘I’m fine’

I’m fine.  The most dangerous words to exist.

Since then I’ve just ran from my black cloud every day because I always blamed my situation and never myself.

It was my hometown, not me – it’ll be fine when I leave

It was drama school, not me – it’ll be fine when I graduate

It was acting, not me – it’ll be fine when I get a new career

It was London, not me – it’ll be fine when I move home

It was my job, not me – It’ll be fine if I go to uni and do a master’s degree

It was being in the closet, not me – it’ll be fine once I come out

It was single status, not me – it’ll be fine was someone falls in love with me.

That has been my life since I was 17. Ten years on and I’m tired. I am drained emotionally, mentally and physically because you can only run from something for so long.

You can only run from depression for so long, you can only tell yourself that everything will be fine for so long but eventually it’s like taking Calpol for an infection. It’s just not going to heal it. You need to get the proper help.

I’ve accepted that and now my journey can begin.

And now I want to apologise to all the bloggers out there who I ever criticised, to anyone who put a message out into the world that I shunned, because writing this post feels amazing, even if not one person reads it. To get it off my chest and out into the world isn’t so scary, it’s almost therapeutic.

Thank you internet, for helping to lighten my load.