I love to write. It’s been a form of escapism and therapy for me for many years and I genuinely enjoy the way it makes me feel as the words flow. At the age of 11, I had one of my poems published in Aquila Magazine and I now ghostwrite for international clients with The Urban Writers, producing non-fiction books on a range of topics from mental health to menopause, fitness to travel. In 2021, I also released my debut fantasy children’s book, My World, and plan to continue the adventure with a novella featuring the same characters.

Last year, after many of us began to recover from the COVID-19 pandemic and the effects the lockdowns had on our lives, bodies, family, and mental state, I wrote a short piece about anxiety and how people who suffer from it may feel. It is written about a young person struggling to get to grips with her condition and, as I believe in the power of mental health awareness, I’d love to share it with you.

Phoenix

“It’s all getting a little too much to handle. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but today feels as though the pressures of life are becoming a burden too great to bear.”

Phoenix wrapped herself in the safety of her duvet and embraced the trusty darkness that engulfed her. The soft weight of the covers helped her to sink into her own world; free from responsibility, deadlines and fake smiles. The darkness allowed her to simply exist without a care but she knew this was a temporary fix. Phoenix had to face yet another day, which was simple for most but an exhausting haul for her because, although the days were busy, each hour crawled awkwardly, painfully dragging through every minute until it was time for the next.

It was a Summer morning in London, so the rain beat against the bedroom windows creating an uneven rhythm; enough to make Phoenix stir from her cocoon. A hazy beam of sunlight entered the room and the gentle warmth soothed the back of her neck. As she turned to lie on her back and stare at the ceiling she thought “maybe it wont be so bad today” but slowly, the excuses and irrational thoughts flooded her mind, and just like clockwork she was back to her anxious ways. She mentally and physically twisted and turned as she imagined situations that could and would “definitely” throw her off-course today.

“I need just ten more minutes!” 

She’s late; over half an hour late but at least she was awake—that’s progress. Despite this minor triumph, her pulse raises and her head swells with overwhelming guilt and worry. She lies still, questioning herself over and over – “why can’t I feel better?” – as her eyes well and tears roll. Thirty minutes of procrastination quickly turns into hours when Phoenix feels like this. She obsesses over the unchangeable, worries about the flexible and becomes anxious about the nonexistent and, although she knows it’s a “mind over matter” situation, her mind continues to natter.

Eventually, Phoenix rises.

She drags her heels along the floor to the bathroom in a half-hearted rush because she knows she should, but she stalls at every opportunity because she knows she can. As she peels off each item of clothing she begins to feel increasingly vulnerable, with the audience of shower gel judging every inch of her body and mind. Fortunately, the heat and sound of the shower provides some comfort but again, the solitude opens up a space for thoughts and internal conversations. “He said”, “she said”, “he’ll say” are regular topics of discussion and with nobody around to snap her out of it, her ruling thoughts are always right; convincing her that the worst will probably happen.

Phoenix doesn’t know her purpose, she underestimates her power and this is the beginning of her downfall. For many months, she had forgotten herself and succumb to third-party projections of weakness and rejection. She started to absorb the negativity and it is becoming detrimental to her, giving her an overwhelming feeling of defeat. She didn’t want to let herself down but she was failing and falling rapidly and that’s all she could think about.

In the past, Phoenix had always put on a brave face but recently she was struggling to conceal her weakened foundation. Her eye line has sunk as she has became a shadow of herself. Hot flushes of embarrassment blush her cheeks as her lips stick and she stumbles over her words. The cracks in her fake smile are starting to show and these cracks are turning into valleys which are becoming canyons from which she desperately needs rescuing. 

“Just ten more minutes” she whispered to herself as she sits naked under the shower head.

Twenty minutes pass and her wrinkled fingertips wipe the salty water from her face. Through the warm mist, she looks down and traces the lines of her tattoo—a phoenix feather—which awakes a sudden feeling of strength, which made her rinse the suds off and get out. 

Phoenix has risen again.  

Written by Leanne Armstrong

My first love is fiction writing. I love the fact that almost anything goes and there is no limit to my imagination. I wrote the following piece for an American audience after being prompted with the sentence “you’re strapped to a table and you don’t know why” and I was given 30 minutes to write it.

Trapped

They’ve got me… and I saw it coming!

For months I had had the feeling I was being watched by them and, with the cold metal clasps around my ankles and wrists, it was clear that their plan to abduct me had worked. They were a lot leaner than I had expected, but sure enough, their translucent skin was just like the sample I had found on May 23rd in Anacre Woods.

As terrifying as I predicted my abduction to be, I actually felt a strangely overwhelming sense of calm flow over me while lying on their operating table. I’d never felt like this around anyone or anything before. Maybe, because I had been studying them for over two decades, I felt more of a connection to them than I did to Hallie. 

Hallie has never had any faith in my work and constantly reminded me that she thought I was wasting my life and money on pointless experiments and equipment, but she didn’t even know the half of it! I vowed that one day I’ll show her that June 14th was no accident and it was a true sighting. Why does she think Bobbie suddenly became blind? It was because of them! I knew they were not coming in peace, but I needed to find out what they wanted from us and Bobbie was a sacrifice I was willing to make.

I have been studying these creatures so closely and for so long, that my life has admittedly passed me by with little to no memories. My kids have left the nest, my cat Charlie died (or could have just run away) and Hallie divorced me last year to start a new life with her high-school crush, Andrew. and yet, I barely remember anything. All of the details have gone and I can hardly recall the face of my first-born son. I’ve been so wrapped up in my studies that my life has become a blur, but I had a feeling that today might be the day that made it all worthwhile.

I knew this day would come. In fact, I may have made it happen! The beams, the fossils, and the old radio masts in the attic could have attracted these fascinating creatures to my home again but I hadn’t predicted they would return so soon. 

The last thing I remember from this morning was walking into the back yard and tripping on a piece of copper from my old wire helmet. As I bent down to pick it up, I felt a heavy tingling sensation in my legs like fire ants crawling through my veins. I dropped to the ground as the tingling turned into pain and noticed that the dirt beneath me was sinking and becoming more and more like liquid. They were coming for me and there was nothing I could do about it.

Now, they don’t come down from the sky in metal flying-saucers with beaming lights that lift you off the ground like the news would like you to think. No, they suck you down into the ground! Their ships are underground! Why do you think there are so many pot holes and sink holes around the Anacre Woods? And that’s exactly what they did to me… so here I am. I can hear Hallie in my head now, asking me how I’m going to get out of this mess and the truth is, for the first time in my life, I can honestly say “I don’t know”. Today will either change my life or end it.

Written by Leanne Armstrong

Let’s Write

As a keen writer, I am always looking for more projects to take on, so if you like my writing style and have any opportunities for me to contribute to your blog, articles, or publication, please do get in touch with me!