Thankyou

What's amazing about blogging is that you can get on your computer - without, usually, even having gotten dressed that day, or washed your face - and you can moan your selfish, ungrateful little heart out when, really, you've got no reason to at all, and you still get emails and messages from complete strangers telling you to keep your chin up because they think you're wonderful.

I feel so very ashamed of myself. Thankyou. To everyone who contacted me via Facebook, or via email, or via this blog (and to my Grandad who rang me up and told me to get my arse round to his for a cup of tea because he was deeply concerned about my mental state): thankyou so much. I'm just a whiney, silly little girl who needs to get a grip. I have been given opportunities that people would kill for: met people, and had experiences, that other people spend their lives dreaming about. I've been given the chance to write a book - thanks to the neverending patience of my parents who have to put up with me lolling all over the house in various states of undress - and it doesn't matter if it's the worst novel ever written: I should be damn grateful to be given the time and space to attempt it.

Good Lord. There are people out there who have terrible, terrible lives, and I'm a spoilt, jumped up little twinkie who feels sorry for herself because she might look and sound a bit unattractive on telly for fifteen minutes. I am going to make a concerted effort to get over myself, and see the things that scare me as opportunities to work out how to make them not.

So thanks again. For showing me that I am a very lucky girl, and that the more inflated my head gets, the more important it is to keep my feet firmly planted on the ground.