The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe 

It’s only nine days until show time and your girl is getting excited. I haven’t talked about it too much but I’m about to be taking part in a production of The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe. Funnily enough, this show inspired the name of this blog – The Chronicles of Narnia: Chronicles of Lily Eve, although the word “Chronicles” can also relate to the word “chronic” since I talk about chronic illnesses a lot ( I totally, 100%, without a shadow of a doubt made that connection when naming the blog). 

Costume fitting took place yesterday and despite the fact that it wasn’t what I had in mind it has given me inspiration of how to play the character, as well as ideas of how to do my hair. For the first role that I play, I want something slightly glamorous because that’s just me but of course it must be simple too considering that the play takes place during WW2. Think Lauren Bacall.

Considering that I already have curly hair which is a similar length to the one in the photo I should be able to pull it off along with the help of some hair rollers. For my second and main roll I can see myself wearing my hair in multiple braids, something a bit elven but as I don’t have long hair and will be wearing a hooded cloak so I have to consider my limits. As well I’m limited by the fact that my first character will appear at the start and end of the play, meaning that I will have only minutes after the last appearance of my main character to chance my hair and costume.

I know that all of this sounds a bit… vain, but in my mind you’ve got to look the part to act the part. It will be a great night, if anyone I know IRL message me and I can get you tickets.



EDIT: Looking back on this three hours later, I can tell you that I’m okay and that this is very sensationalised. I was going to delete it but then decided to leave it up as it is an honest depiction of what mental illness can do to a person. One minute you’re fine after a good day, the next you want to kill yourself. Sorry to be blunt but that’s how it is.

I always feel like I’m the third wheel, the person that tags along despite not being explicitly invited. The one that takes photos because nobody really wants to be in a photo with me. And it’s tearing me apart. 

Some people want to be rich; others happy but I know that neither of those are possible for me so I just have one simple wish: someone to call my own. Not necessarily a boy/girlfriend, just someone that cared about me. Someone that trusted me. Someone that would recognise that I’m hurting. Someone who would organise things to do. I don’t have anyone like that. I have to ask to be invited or beg people to come out with me.

I used to care so much for everyone. I used to smile when they were happy, cry when they were sad. Now I’m just completely numb to it all. It’s one thing to be alone, but another to be lonely and it is killing me.

Diabetic Clinic 

I was a big girl today. I went to the adults diabetic clinic for the first time today. I even managed not to pass out when getting bloods done, although the nurse let me lie down and didn’t make a fuss over finding a vein which helped a lot.

I was seriously impressed by the nurses, but the doctor had me in and out in less than five minutes and told me to go private  (?!) when I asked to be referred to a Podiatrist. I wouldn’t even know where to start when it comes to going outside the NHS. How much does it cost? So yeah, I wasn’t impressed by that.

I have more input into my treatment options now and manged to get the doctor to prescribe my Toujeo instead of Lantus (types of long-acting insulin) which gives me hypos almost every night and messes up my sleep schedule. As well we discussed the new technologies for diabetics. The NHS still refuses to fund continously glucose monitors (despite the evidence that they help with blood sugar control) which is the latest advancement. In the not so distant future we may be able to test our blood by shining a laser through our fingers, but I don’t see the NHS funding that when the same results can be achieved from drops of blood.

It feels a bit strange to be treated as an adult when I feel no more mature than I did a year ago but this is all part and parcel of turning 16. 

Meeting Your YouTube Idol: It isn’t what you’d think.

There is a YouTuber that I have admired since I was nine years old when she started her channel. Recently she moved back to Northern Ireland with her family and since then I have seen her in passing twice. Northern Ireland isn’t a very big place so I knew that there was always a possibility that I would bump into her and I always visualised what would happen: I’d say hello, tell her that I’m a big fan of her videos and we’d smile at each other and then both go on our ways. 

The first time I saw her, she was with her husband and they both looked miserable. Probably just a resting bitch face or something but I surprised me considering what a happy and outgoing person she seems to be in her vlogs. I smiled but they never saw me. The second time I saw her and seeing that she was busy I refrained from distracting her. 

I’m not annoyed or upset at all about this, if anything it taught an important lesson: don’t expect people that you see on the screen to be the same in person. It was just a bit strange for me since I watched this person since I was a child, watching as she started a family and took on ambitious projects. In a way I considered her to be my friend, but of course she doesn’t even know that I exist. 

I’ve chosen not to name the YouTuber since I’m worried that this comes across as negative nor do I want to invade her privacy. This experience drove home for me that the people that I admire have their own struggles and have to take on the unglamorous tasks e.g. shopping like the rest of us.


Today, well I suppose it’s yesterday now, was just one of those days that didn’t go to plan. I had all of these lovely plans which I had meticulously scheduled but of course I just didn’t happen.

It all began to fall apart in the AM as I slept in until midday despite planning to get up at 10 and have a healthy breakfast before tidying up the living room before my grandad arrived. I ended up having three chocolate digestives and never got to clean up. My grandad arrived as planned but he was ill, therefore my parents had to drive him two hours to the hospital where he lives and spend the rest of the day there, leaving me home alone without any money or mode of transport. Don’t get me wrong though – there was plenty of food in the house and I had my savings in case of emergency. However this effectively ruined my plans for the rest of the day which consisted of:

  • Buying a pair of dance shoes
  • Buying a new RAM chip for my parents’ computer 
  • and going to a Spanish conversation class

I don’t need parental supervision to do any of these things but I needed transport which meant that I needed to have money for bus fare or a parent around to give me a lift. 

So with all my plans put on hold I was left twiddling my thumbs. Normally I have no issue entertaining myself when I’m home alone but I couldn’t find anything remotely interesting to do. This led to me doing laundry, cleaning dust out of the PC and making dinner for my brother and I (if oven chips and sausage rolls really count). I’m so bad at keeping track of the days that I didn’t remember until midnight that I had TV programmes that I had recorded to watch. I watched the BBC news channel all day instead for God’s sake.

I know this all comes off as very shallow but I was thinking of my grandad all day and was constantly texting my parents. There just wasn’t much that I could do from 200km away which made me feel awful redundant and anxious. I’m just glad that he’s most likely going to be okay.


I was looking at my blog stats, something that I promised myself I wouldn’t do but can’t help sometimes, and I noticed that a lot of my views are coming from Facebook despite the fact that I’ve never shared a blog link there. A couple of years ago my anonymous blog which I was stupid enough to tell a “friend” about was spread around Facebook. I had over five hundred views from Facebook flood my little blog which I wrote an awful lot of personal information on that I didn’t want my name attached to. Having looked in my stats, I know that these recent views from Facebook are coming from Belfast meaning that it’s most likely someone that I know who has shared it. I’m telling myself to keep calm, it was probably pretty innocent, but with my condition it’s kind of hard. I’m really only writing right now to try and ward off a panic attack. It’s most likely just a friend trying to drum up views for me but my mind doesn’t like common sense.

Okay, sorry about that rant whixh isn’t really relevant to the post title. I’ve been ridiculously busy this week, something that I’m not overly used to. Despite having half an hour less of classes this semester (which are more evenly spread across the days that I’m in than last) they completely drain me, probably because they are a lot more advanced. As well, I’ve been doing everything this week from trampolining to mock exams and I’m most definitely coming down with something. My muscles are aching and my sinuses are blocked which is not surprising given the emotional and physical stress I’ve putting my body against alongside poor eating. I think I need to take a step back next week.