eabha lynn.

nineteen. medical student. brutally honest and probably having a crisis.

[eabhaalynn]

Punisher and Why it is my Album of the Year... Already

Every few years, we come across a singer-songwriter who is so devastatingly assured in their talent that they come to be generation defining. Their songs are synonymous with the era they’re written in, with the themes they discuss. Names like Bob Dylan, Stevie Nicks, and Amy Winehouse come to mind. This weeks’ release of “Punisher,” the sophomore album by Californian indie-rock icon Phoebe Bridgers has solidified her name on that list.

From her first note of her first album ‘Stranger in the Alps’ in 2017, we could see -or perhaps more fittingly, hear- that Phoebe is a force to be reckoned with. Her distinctive, haunting vocals from that album have made the soundtrack to many summers since, and many films to match. ‘Motion Sickness’details the emotional abuse of a relationship the then twenty-two-year-old musician had with Ryan Adams, an established voice in the alternative rock scene. In the years since, numerous allegations of sexual misconduct against Adams have come to the public’s attention. This only further points to the bravery of Bridgers’ in writing and releasing such a poignant track so early on in her career.

Thematically, Stranger in the Alps touches on death, depression, emotional abuse and heartbreak, without ever verging into the cringe or the cliché. Bridgers’ raw, honest vocals and song-writing skill make it a strangely comforting experience to listen to, and an album that is as melodically beautiful as it is lyrically heart wrenching. You would be forgiven for thinking that it’d be too impossible an act to follow, especially for an artist so early on in her career.

“The future’s unwritten, the past is a corridor.” – Smoke Signals, 2017

Ms Bridgers swiftly followed her solo debut with 2018’s Boygenius and 2019’s Better Oblivion Community Center. The former, a collaboration with Julian Baker and Lucy Dacus, played into the strengths of all three musicians, resulting in a fusion of indie-rock and folk-rock, and giving Phoebe ample opportunity to release more of the distinctive poetic lyricism that have become synonymous with her name. The blend of the three genres and voices is a beautiful and haunting EP that has aged with Ms Bridgers and become a defining moment for her career.

The latter, Better Oblivion Community Center, is a duo consisting of Phoebe and long-term friend and collaborator Conor Oberst. Their self-titled debut album loosely is themed around a dystopian wellness centre of the same name. The record is coherent, creative and once again plays to the strengths of both musicians, their voices complement each other beautifully, despite or perhaps because of the contrast in their styles. The album is undoubtably a feat of production, and plays into elements of electronic and country music, for the first, though evidently not the last time in Phoebe’s discography.

“So sick of being honest / I’ll die like Dylan Thomas” – Dylan Thomas, 2019

Which brings us swiftly on to 2020, the year of COVID, contradictions and confusion for all of us. Punisher, Phoebe Bridgers’ sophomore album was released on June 18th, at the perfect intersection of lockdowns lift and the beginning of summer. The release itself coincided with a time of social upheaval across the US and further afield, prompting Bridgers to move the official release date a day forward from ‘Juneteenth’, the official end of slavery in the US. Across her social media profiles, she prompted her fans to donate to organisations seeking racial justice.

"I'm not [delaying] the record until things go back to 'normal' because I don't think they should,” – https://twitter.com/phoebe_bridgers

The album opens with the instrumental track, ‘DVD Menu,’a seventy-second long, vaguely ominous string-led instrumental reminiscent of the video-game themes the artist would’ve grown up with in the early 2000s. It provides the perfect anticipatory build up into lead-single ‘Garden Song,’ a prospective looking, dreamy love song. Initially released on February 26th, 2020; Garden Song acts somewhat as a sequel to Stranger in the Alps’ Smoke Signals. It follows thematically, melodically, and continues Phoebes’ established lyrical poeticism. Like Smoke Signals, Garden Song is slow, but enthralling. The melody makes you want to listen, the lyrics make you want to fall in love.

Following on from this is second single, and third song, ‘Kyoto,’ in sharp contrast to the slow, strong self-awareness of the earlier songs, Kyoto presents a whirlwind of emotions, an aural dissociation of sorts. Kyoto is fast-paced, guitar led, and even difficult to follow. Almost anxiety-inducing, Kyoto is an exciting accomplishment of alt-pop. Phoebe’s strong descriptive lyrics manage to change themes between and even within verses, suggesting a struggle between her inner and her outer self, and how this same struggle bleeds into her relationships with others.

In musical circles, a ‘Punisher,’ is a name for an overzealous fan. The titular track of the album places Phoebe herself in this role. The song imagines a conversation between Phoebe and an artist she clearly admires very much. It is the first piano-led track of the album; and marks a contrast with the prior songs as she is able to outwardly express her emotion and feelings in the song’s narrative for the first time. While this is essentially a song to a stranger, it is marked with Phoebe’s distinctive emotional lyrics and vocal; and retains the same charge of emotional attachment that has become so characteristic of her discography.

Following this is ‘Halloween,’ a song that plunges us immediately into Phoebe’s narrative and lived situation. Utilising picking on guitar strings to produce the holiday season of the song’s setting sonically, Ms Bridgers takes us into her loveless relationship just in time for ‘cuffing season,’ and the all too familiar feeling of holding on to something that isn’t there, just because of the time of year. The melancholy is only furthered by the repetition in the song’s latter half by Conor Oberst, collaborator and Better Oblivion Community Centrebandmate.

Fan-favourite, and a personal favourite of mine, ‘Chinese Satellite,’ reflects on loss, and grief. Musically, it builds, starting slowly with a single guitar line and Phoebe’s vocals. By the end of the first verse, both the guitars and vocals have been layered, producing a haunting effect only furthered by the synth and drums of the latter half of the song.

Lyrically, Phoebe starts out questioning her circumstances, wondering why this unnamed event has occurred. She later turns this uncertainty onto herself, questioning her own lack of faith. Finally, she remembers memories of herself with the person who has been lost, and in retrospect, she yearns for the belief that she will see them again. This yearning that closes the song is accompanied by a drum, once again paired only with her voice, that is sonically reminiscent of a heartbeat. Chinese Satellite has provided a great comfort to me personally in a time of great loss, and while I know I am calling it extremely early I do not doubt it is my song of the year.

“Moon Song” follows, and it is a love song to someone facing issues with their own self-esteem. With beautifully raw production, the tough scratch of an acoustic guitar provides contrast to the soft and kind vocals. The song provides some of the best lyrics of the album, or perhaps of her entire discography, and in doing so, manage to make a fairly specific story of love through mental illness and self-deprecation accessible to Ms Bridgers’ broad audience.

‘We hate ‘Tears in Heaven’ / But it’s sad his baby died’ – Moon Song, 2020

This theme of a somewhat doomed relationship continues into ‘Savio[u]r Complex,’in this similarly acoustic ballad, orchestral strings pitched above Phoebe’s voice play further into the melancholy and toxicity described throughout the songs’ lyrics. Her use of metaphor and allegory throughout the song helps retain the accessibility of the otherwise characteristically dark lyrics, her strong descriptions throughout playing into the same emotions of Stranger in the Alps’ ‘Funeral.’

‘ICU’ initially released as ‘I See You’ due to the timing of the COVID crisis, was the final single released before the album, on May 19th,2020.  It is a typically Phoebe Bridgers’ breakup song, one that acknowledges the love that she’s losing. Starting with a soft scream, literally, the songs’ vocals are raw over a distorted synth background. Sonically, the song is a mesh of all of the components of the songs preceding it, building to a climax before dropping out just in time for the final verse. This is, in my opinion, the best single, and one of her best to date.

Penultimate song ‘Graceland Too’ swings the album in a bluegrass direction, and in doing so, provides an ode to the influences Bridgers has taken from the genre. Its title references Elvis Presley’s ranch and tourist attraction of the same name. The song features her Boygenius bandmates in its latter half, resulting in an admirable melody not dissimilar to their EP.

The album closes with ‘I Know the End,’ an anthemic ballad that falls just short of six-minutes long. It begins telling different stories, centring around episodes of low-mood and depression, the causes of which are implied consistently to be related to the stresses of touring and the musician’s lifestyle. These stories are told over a guitar-led melody, initially pitched to be much quieter than the vocals. A feat of production, the messy string melody gains traction as the song progresses, building over the first half of the song in pitch, volume and number of instruments. Around the two-minute mark, the song is split by an instrumental, and when vocals return, they bring with them an increasing sense of urgency. The latter half of the song details a road trip Phoebe takes and pays heed to the sights and sounds she encounters throughout.

The song, and thus the album, concludes with a chorus of vocals repeating ‘The End is Near,’ over a chaotic melody of all sorts of instruments and assorted sounds, before descending into shouts and screams from Phoebe and friends in the last number of seconds.

I don’t even believe I need to clarify this, but just in case you have any doubt, this album is my favourite of the year so far. 10/10

[eabhaalynn]

Let the Music Play: A Love-Letter to Our Live Venues.

My concert-going career started at a very young age. Barely out of nappies, I went to see the ‘tweenies’ live with my auntie in 2004. The Odyssey Arena, Belfast, now known as the SSE Arena, is Northern Ireland’s biggest indoor arena, and while it is dwarfed by the stadiums and concert venues of the Irish capital and Manchester city, the imposing presence of the arena has captivated me for about as long as I can remember.

The Odyssey complex is as old as I am, its doors opened in the year I was born and so, at the time, everyone was as enthralled with the venue as I was.

The most recent concert I went to at the SSE was twenty-one pilots in March 2019. There is something really endearing about the combined nostalgia of a twenty-one pilots gig itself, and a venue with fifteen years’ worth of live-music memories housed in its elliptical, grey walls.

The SSE arena embodies my generation of Northern Irish kids; we have this big central concert venue, one that our parents could only have dreamed of. Its evolved into a bustling hotspot of tourism, nestled in tidily between the main motorway to East Belfast and the now notorious Titanic Quarter. The word ‘anticipation’ has become almost synonymous with the landscaped gardens, taxi ranks and brightly orange-cladded walls of the arena. From standing in the snow eagerly waiting for a wave from Shakira in December 2009, to queuing in the rain for an allocated seat out of the sheer anticipation of seeing then-heartthrob Matty Healy in January 2019, the artists change, the company changes, but the venues stay static.

Walking into the colossal atrium of the SSE arena, the dopamine rush of the distinctive sound of a ticket scanner, the frustration of the crush on the stairs, or the hilariously slow walker in front of you, the relief and disbelief of being swept away from an old friend by the tsunami of people pouring into the venue, and later washing back out of it. The expected responses to big world events, the additional security of Summer 2017 after the tragic events in Manchester, both outside and inside the same venues.

The feeling of utter tininess when you step through the tunnel into the arena. The power of the crowd, all there for the same reasons, all having a brilliant time. The knowledge that so many of your friends are experiencing the same event you are, that same knowledge, that’s somehow even more captivating in retrospect.

And that is just one venue.

I grew up in a ‘musical household’ and all that really means is that my dad plays the guitar, my mum always has the radio on in the house, and it’s been this way for about as long as I can remember.

Consequently, then, my childhood summers were framed by a local music festival, happens the first week in August in our village. It is, as they say, the craic. It introduced me to gig culture, a culture that has adopted me as I’ve aged. Gigs are like concerts, but smaller. A lot more personable, usually with a lot more bands involved, usually, you won’t know or listen to every band on the set list.

Gigs are in bars, or town halls, or even student union’s – I’m looking at QUB and Glasgow here, LUSU is an office building, though it’d almost certainly be more use as a gig venue. While you find your friends at concerts, you make friends at gigs. You find new music through gigs. Gigs are the control-alt-delete of your social life, especially when you’ve been going to them since you were six.

In reality, I could write whole love letters about every gig in every venue I have ever been to, I haven’t not been to a gig for this long, I think since I turned fifteen.

But none of us have time for that, enjoy these quick-fire feelings about gig venues and gigs from over the years, at home and farther afield.

The Oh Yeah! Centre in Belfast – the gateway to the gig scene. The absolute heroes who were hosting all ages gigs that one time a year every year that you didn’t have to source an ID. Nestled in the Cathedral Quarter, it is a genuinely wholesome, beautiful place to be. From falling in love with a 17 year old Declan McKenna in the front row at 15, to nearly choking when you heard the titular female name of Cherym’s now lead-single live for the first time, it is a very happy place and one that is truly committed to local acts and musical education at its heart.

The Lurig Inn in Cushendall – We all have a bit of love for our local, don’t we? The Lurig was the place to go out when you couldn’t get into, or couldn’t get to, anywhere else. Being 16 in the Glens of Antrim is certainly an experience, and it is characterised by the intergenerational harmony of a night in the Lurig with your wee man off the X-Factor. They have converted their venue into guestrooms, and of course I have feelings about this, but they still have solid acoustic nights from local artists on a regular basis, and I miss coming home to it a lot.

The Stubborn Stag at Kelly’s, Portrush – When you catch yourself driving to a gig in jeans and a t-shirt while you watch your peers in tiny neon skirts getting turned away from the main club, you know you’re doing something right – or maybe very wrong. This is my local for ‘big gigs’ and is a very underrated venue in Portrush. It is a genuinely lovely bar to be in, and attracts names from across the wide and growing North Coast music scene. I’ve even heard its worth using that roundabout in Coleraine for.

Students Unions of the world – This is basically in memorium of the Mandela Hall in Belfast. However, the Manchester Academies and QMU Glasgow need their recognition. These venues are gross, they’re sticky, they’re not even overly cheap on gig nights. But they give you the opportunity to see IDLES, the Academic, Miles Kane (!) and the Front Bottoms up close, even when you’re underage. And for that, we salute them. I do miss being able to see yer man from General Fiasco and his guitar every Sunday at the Speakeasy if I wanted to too (but don’t tell anyone).

The Belfast Empire – I haven’t actually got the words for the love I have for this venue. It is practically perfect in every way. From their regular ‘Gifted’ nights, which platform young talent, to their annual general fiasco gigs, to their high ceilings and stunning acoustics, to the location in the heart of Botanic, the closest street Belfast has to ‘cool.’ While I have never had much love for Belfast city, my heart absolutely bursts for the Empire. I cannot recommend checking them out when they reopen.

My favourite carpark in Belfast is actually also behind the Empire but that’s a story for another day.

The Button Factory, Dublin – This is where I first made eye contact with Eli Hewson, it is a beautiful, very cool venue on the periphery of Dublin’s Temple Bar. Just a stone’s throw from Gay Spar too. What more could you ask for?

Yes! Manchester – This is technically four venues, on Manchester’s Charles St. It is effortlessly groovy, and consistently hosts the best up and coming talent from Manchester, the North West, and farther afield. It is where I first saw Eli Hewson, buzzed on VKs at 2.30pm on a crisp October afternoon. It is also home to ‘the Pink Room’ the most beautiful venue I have ever been in. Imagine being at an Inhaler gig in a Barbie house. Now tell me how I can ever expect to beat that.

Sandino’s Derry – It’s a socialist bar. They have MSF stickers on the walls. It’s the complete antithesis of the Yes Pink Room; but is two stories of positive vibes and freedom. An endearing little venue that occasionally hosts good gigs but will always be there to radicalise you, if only a little bit and to welcome you home.

Some of the most endearing memories of my whole life have been finding friends at concerts, screaming and crying along to concerts, getting lost at concerts, arriving late and leaving early, and getting abandoned. Getting stuck in the mud, quite literally, and stopping at the kebab shop on the way home; and being scared you’re going to be stuck in Preston bus station forever.

Gig-going and concert going have given me anecdotes to last a lifetime, and I am not the only one. Let the music play.

I wasn’t sure where I really was going with this post, I didn’t at all plan it. But I truly hope it has encouraged you to support your local gigs and artists, and especially your local venues.

#letthemusicplay 

[eabhaalynn]

13 Irish Artists to Stan Instead of You Know Who

1.    KNEECAP

Kneecap are a three-piece hip-hop group hailing from Belfast, Co. Antrim. Their music is brash, infectious and politically charged, often combining both Irish and English lyrics in single verses. Their lyrics are controversial, cynical and at times even satirical, and with beats remixing the BBC News theme, KNEECAPs appeal is easily transferable from that other controversial Irish rap group

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h1J_DVutL-w

2.    ROE

Roe is a twenty-year old multi-instrumentalist from Co. Derry, and an absolute powerhouse of talent packed into a tiny frame. Her lyrics are consistently poignant, and her synth-led indie music manages to be effortlessly catchy, without ever losing the meaning behind it, or verging into the cliché. Her songs can transport you into that scene from that coming-of-age film, right from the comfort of your own back garden. A homegrown talent with the perfect sound for the long summer ahead.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N3nY8MrP0OA

3.    HOZIER

If you haven’t been listening to Andrew Hozier-Byrne for the last seven years, then what exactly have you been doing? Hailing from Bray, Co. Wicklow, the gentle giant has become synonymous with the Irish music scene from his very first EP. His songs are blues-inspired, guitar-led and lyrically often politically charged – tackling everything from racism in the police to homophobia in the church. A colossal musical talent, with unmatched lyrics and features across his two albums – undoubtedly worth the stan.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cI0wUoCLnLk

4.    ORLA GARTLAND

You simply cannot separate Dublin alt-pop sensation Orla Gartland’s distinctive and unique personality from her distinctive and unique brand of music. An undeniable talent paired with infectious guitar riffs and lyrics that are relatable and accessible to the youth of Ireland and farther afield in the modern era, Orla’s music is breath-taking and brutally honest – well worth the listen and well-deserving of the stan

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1_pICv1FxnY

5.    TOUTS

This section got me into twitter cringe with Luke Mac from Touts so yous all best listen to them now. Touts are a three-piece band hailing from the greatest city on the island, Derry, TOUTS have managed to make punk music for the modern era that Eabha Lynn can listen to, unironically. Their lyrics detail the frustrations of what it’s like to be young in the North of Ireland, with song titles like ‘political people,’ and ‘bombscare,’ highlighting that in as blatant a way as possible. They’re really good, their songs are often short bursts of pure energy, that you simply cannot help but to keep listening to.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQmdoIhnizc

6.    BRAND NEW FRIEND

Brand New Friend are a local band to me, their North (Antrim?) Coast heritage evident in the distinctive lyrical themes splattered across their discography. Initially with four members, though more recently with five, Brand New Friend are the epitome of indie-pop perfection in Ireland at the moment. Their music is danceable, their lyrics are relatable, and their growth as a band evident throughout their work’s history. The dynamic between the band – made up of three siblings, a best friend and a boyfriend – is electric, you can’t stop listening, and truly have no choice but to stan.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=phsS_QA8rPw

7.    GENERAL FIASCO

I often say music would be better if every band was from Bellaghy, and General Fiasco generally -is- my reasoning with that one. The breakthrough band of the early 2010s brought rural south Co. Derry to the international stage, with their infectious indie melodies and accessible lyrics, as relevant to teenage life a decade ago as it is now. A three-piece, fronted by siblings Owen and Enda Strathearn, who had been performing right up until the beginning of this lockdown, despite their last album release occurring almost eight years previously, the band are well worth a listen, and undeniably indie icons of the island.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=As-Rulo-E4g

8.    INHALER

I feel more strongly about Eli Hewson’s lil hoop earring than I do about most people but ANYWAY, Inhaler are a band of south-Dublin posh boys fronted by Bono’s son (Spawno?) Elijah. They are the sound of Ireland in 2020, and despite having a name inspired by their frontman’s respiratory condition, they are characterised by his soaring vocals layered over a devastatingly unique synth-pop meets guitar-rock melody. I hate to love them, but I simply cannot help but to. They are objectively very good at what they do, they are forward looking and exciting to listen to, definitely worth the stan.

Okay and they are four very beautiful rich boys with guitars that doesn’t hurt either.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KUwpt3pM4sY

9.    TEBI REX

Admittedly I only recently started listening to these guys, but the Maynooth-based rap duo have a sound unlike anything else I have heard from this Island in living-memory. Their sound is exciting, their lyrics are original and accessible. The two men making up Tebi Rex, Matt O’Baoill and Max Zanga, are both exceptionally good at what they do, and their respective styles compliment each other perfectly. Men Are Trash honestly speaks to me, they are truly stan worthy, ones to watch and ones that are so forward looking and genuinely so exciting to listen to.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9lWEuEKD6DE

10.  SOAK

If you can’t tell by now that I really love Derry, here is another prodigal talent from Ireland’s should-have-been capital city. Her music is intense, you can tell from first listen how much of herself she puts into her songs. Her sound is messy, chaotic, and yet beautiful and well crafted. She has an unmistakable voice, layered over a beautiful and raw melodic soundscape, utilising everything from synth to orchestral strings throughout her projects. Her songs are sad without being cringey, she simply is emotive and honest – beyond her years even, and this is well evidenced throughout her music.

I have no choice but to stan.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OxyD9fH1bQk

11.  THE ACADEMIC

In Ireland, you get a generation defining indie-pop/indie-rock band to the calibre of the academic about once in a decade, if you’re lucky. For the last five years, this four-piece from Mullingar, Co. Westmeath, have been supplying us with tune after tune, LP after EP, each managing to perfectly capture that coming-of-age long summer road-trip sound every band tries at some stage to achieve. They’re able to tell stories, to convey feelings of love and apathy, and even of our more recent isolation, in a way that is so rarely found in their genre. Above all, they are exceptionally talented musicians who are genuinely enjoyable to listen to, and they deserve the stan.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hXoBj5HZ1hU

12.  FONTAINES D.C.

Post-punk five-piece Fontaines D.C formed when at College in Dublin in 2017, though hail from all across the Island, with the frontman Grian Chatten even being born in Barrow in the North West of England. Despite their debut only being released a year ago, they have already become synonymous with the Dublin music scene, and the post-punk scene across Ireland at large. The lead single of their sophomore album was released in Early May, to broad and wide-ranging acclaim. Their sound is infectious, addictive, yet distinctive. Despite their limited discography, you can’t help but get yourself excited for more. Chatten’s voice is incredible and distinctive, their sound is remarkable, their appeal is broad and diverse. They’re ones to watch, and well worth a stan.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jLNt8aMNbvY

13.  CHERYM,

My personal favourite band from my favourite city, Cherym really are a band by the girls and the gays for the girls and the gays. They are three ‘sassy’ Derry girls with so much craic it radiates through their songwriting, resulting in their characteristic fusion of pop-punk and garage-rock, perfectly contrasted with catchy, danceable lyrics covering everything from shitty exes to good friends. Individually, the girls are three remarkable talents, and these blend so well together to produce the top quality punk music the people of Ireland so desperately need and deserve. You should definitely stan, they’re pretty class

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zx4DcyA4gc0

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2RFZKxoC7rADqAGMCZhj5N?si=cSkz3y65Qrm6wtlh8zoycw

[eabhaalynn]

Ian Curtis, Telecouselling and Kindness: Mental Health Awareness Week 2020

It’s hard to know where to begin with this one. I’m very cautious when writing about mental health. Primarily because I don’t want to seem disingenuous or want my own experiences to detract from the experiences of those less fortunate than me. Though, admittedly also because I feel like talking about mental health gets repetitive and boring for other people, and the more that people talk, the less people want to listen, and the less people empathise. While I appreciate that this is mainly just my anxiety talking, and a few unsolicited comments from months ago, it’s difficult to not internalise it.

On this, the first day of Mental Health Awareness Week, I woke up to the suggestion of “Ian Curtis” trending on twitter. Forty years today, in the early hours of the morning on May 18th, 1980; the Joy Division frontman took his own life at just twenty-three years old. Curtis’ struggles with his own mental health are well documented in his lyrics, and yet they were not realised, even by those closest to him, until after his death. He suffered from epilepsy, a neurological disorder characterised by recurrent seizures, and also from severe depression. Retrospectively, we look at Ian Curtis’ life, death, and legacy as a terribly sad story. A broken mind, if you will, a tormented soul. We even credit many of his most poignant writings to the pain he was experiencing. But we can never quite realise what he was living through, not even those closest to him did.

Ian Curtis was a genius, his lyrics have transcended generations, the distinctive sound of Joy Division has influenced the direction of alternative music for generations. On many a walk around Manchester’s rainy Northern Quarter, their presence can be felt everywhere, their name is almost synonymous with the city and its culture. At yet, at the very cusp of all of this success, the band lost its frontman. It was the eve of their first ever North American Tour, their second album, Closer, was to be released just two months later.

And yet, he was really depressed. He was struck down by the same illness that affects about 1 in 5 of all of us at one given time.

‘Well I could call out when the going gets tough,

The things that we’ve learnt are never enough.’

You’d think, you would hope, even, that we would do something about this. An illness so prevalent it affects somebody close to everybody, one that takes so many young lives. Ian Curtis’ story should have been a warning to us all, to value our young men and look after their mental health. And yet, today three-quarters of all suicides in the UK are men, and the suicide rates for men under 45 are consistently the highest of all demographics.

Today, we find ourselves on the cusp of yet another mental health crisis. Resources have been diverted, once again, away from University mental health services, GP receptionists seem to be guarding repeat prescriptions like they are the pearly gates of heaven itself. And that is before we even begin to describe the vast, wide reaching and, so far mostly unexplored psychological consequences of, you know, living through a Pandemic.

We have all been stuck in our houses for two months, this is completely unexplored territory for medicine in the UK, and psychiatrists are already warning of the fall out to come. I can only speak for myself when I say how much I struggled. From leaving behind a life at University at the beginning of the pandemic, to not seeing anyone except my immediate family for months at a time, to losing the micro-rewards of normal life (read; biweekly coffee expeditions). It has been difficult. Yes, we are all in this together. But how can we be expected to know that when our only interaction is through a computer screen?

This is all before we even begin to describe the anxiety surrounding a pandemic, the grief over lost friends and relatives, and crucially, the grief over lost time spent with those friends and relatives.

The guilt associated with every mundane task weighs down on all of us. And you can bet there is someone out there telling us all to grow up and wise up, because at least we have our health.

For the first time ever, I have tried tele-counselling. A truly bizarre experience but one for which I am very grateful. There are also plenty of resources online to help guide us a little bit through this colossal storm. And in my very humble opinion, I think any comparison to life pre-lockdown is redundant. I have stopped caring about my productivity levels, I’m trying hard not to dwell on my weight or to hyper-fixate on my, admittedly, faltering, physical appearance. The world we used to live in simply does not exist at the moment. And for now, that is okay.

The theme of this year’s Mental Health Awareness Week is kindness. And I know that kindness is a quality I cherish in others. The world is a very nasty place - Especially at the moment. And we could, and should, all be kinder to one another this week and for many weeks after it. Smile at that stranger when we are allowed to go outside without face coverings again. Empty that dishwasher for your ma. But just as, and perhaps even more importantly, we need to be kinder to ourselves. This lockdown is going to be a watershed moment in all of our lives. Living through it, having to experience it, will have built so much more resilience for us all than we probably can’t even begin to see yet. In the before times, I spent too much time worrying about what people thought, too much time worrying about how my actions were perceived and construed. I let my naturally affectionate self be buried under the weight of other people’s actions. I said ‘no’ to too many nights out, to too many coffees and dinners and pints. I didn’t buy the shoes one too many times. I have never been kind to myself.

This life is beautiful, even if it isn’t right now. Things will be beautiful again. Stay safe and be kind to yourself.

https://www.ons.gov.uk/peoplepopulationandcommunity/birthsdeathsandmarriages/deaths/bulletins/suicidesintheunitedkingdom/2018registrations#suicide-patterns-by-age

https://www.mentalhealth.org.uk/statistics

https://www.nytimes.com/2015/11/04/t-magazine/bernard-sumner-joy-division-book.html?mcubz=3

[eabhaalynn]

Why You Should Support Your Local Coffee Shop - Five Years of Follow Coffee Co

Ballymena is a fairly unremarkable Co. Antrim Town, better known for its dedication to the DUP than for its coffee establishments. You may know it as the town of Ian Paisley Jr. famous for his father and being the first ever MP subject to a recall petition. You may even know it as the “Drugs Capital of the North.”

Follow Coffee Co. is an independently owned café that, as far as I know, popped up on a pedestrianised shopping street in the shadow of the Tower Centre in Ballymena’s town centre at some stage in 2014. The glass shop front is framed with bright yellow paint and criss-crossed with metal panes, splitting both the sunlight in summer months and streetlights in the dark days of Christmas. To the left side of the building’s centre lies a heavy glass door, the geometric logo of the shop sitting front and centre above it, and illustrated in frosted glass to it’s side.

(Image Credit: Debbie Murray (insta @/followcoffee)

Inside, the design is fresh and modern, a stark and yet refreshing contrast to the traditional appearance of the town outside that has remained largely unchanged in my lifetime. Further contrast is shown on the very ground itself; wooden floors on one side, industrial concrete on the other. The stairs and two sides of the shop are bridged with diamond plate, further consolidating the image; and acknowledging the towns manufacturing history. The balcony of the top floor overlooks the entry way and provides the perfect spot for peoplewatching. At the far side of the café lies the counter, with pastries, buns, a giant blackboard, decorated with the ever-evolving lunch menu off to one side and a big, beautiful coffee machine there to greet you.

At some stage between Follow Coffee’s opening and today, my name has become synonymous with coffee drinking. Trust me, the word ‘coffee’ features in no less than five different people’s yearbook comments about me. It’s not that I’m blaming the place or anything, but when it opened, I didn’t even drink coffee.

SIX RECOMMENDATIONS FROM FOLLOW(one for each year hehe)

-      Raspberry Hot Chocolate

-      Hot Chocolate

-      Mocha

-      Iced Hazelnut Latte

-      Hazelnut Latte

-      The smoothie that has mango in it

My friends and I stumbled upon follow accidentally once when out of data and waiting for the 5.45pm 150 bus home. This was the epitome of life as a thirteen-year old in rural Ireland. The place had good, affordable hot chocolate and free wi-fi, and the girlsTM were bored. It was perfect. What more could we ever have asked for?

Before too long, I had convinced my dad and sister to ditch the usual chain coffee places and come to Follow with me. Luckily enough, the apple didn’t fall far from the tree and so they had the same love for the place that I do, the same love for independent coffee shops in general. Somewhat unsurprisingly, they fell in love. My GCSE years were upon me and I was spending more and more time in town. Honestly, I was spending more time awake and thus, the thriving caffeine dependency today was born. My Saturdays would usually involve a trip to Follow, I would bring schoolwork and stay for hours at a time, hiding myself in one of the upstairs booths and work away. The pressure of a public environment somehow always made me work harder and better.

The group of friends that I had found the place with soon imploded, as groups of young teenage girls so often do. But I didn’t mind, my newfound love for the place transcended those people, and after everything I still had so much respect for those girls. By that stage, I had befriended the Barista’s. After all, I had spent enough time bothering them at work with the intricate details of my life problems, and they were so kind and so like me that I just naturally made friends with them. Some of those friendships have even lasted to this day (more on that later).

When fifth year rolled around, I had become so disenfranchised with school, I started looking into sixth form options in town. When it became apparent that staying at my old school was no longer an option, I decided on St Louis Grammar. A brilliant school which offered me an escape from the people giving me grief, the opportunity to study the subjects I wanted and a town centre school environment, all just a twelve-minute walk away from Follow.

The winter of fifth year also was when I met my first ever boyfriend; and went on my first ever date. No prizes for guessing where that date was. Much alike the girlsTMmentioned earlier, that relationship crashed and burned. But Follow was always my place, is always going to be my place. Surely those experiences only helped to solidify it.

Sixth Form at St Louis was the best two years of my life. I have no hesitations in saying that. It was wonderful, beautiful, incredible, and yet stressful beyond belief. Because I have no common-sense AT ALL, I decided to start lower sixth off with four new a-levels, a new relationship, all these new friends … and … yet again, no surprises… a new job.

Being a Barista was always a bit of a dream of mine. I already had such a strong rapport with so many of Follow’s staff and regular customers (being one myself), from the outside, it seemed like the perfect contrast to the high stress lifestyle of sixth form at ‘’Northern Ireland’s top grammar.’’

Are you seeing a trend developing here? That plan went horribly wrong. I loved working at follow, but I was 16, a little baby. I was so stressed and had so much going on and so I only lasted a matter of months. But still; Follow had housed my first ever date and now my first ever job - Two of the most defining experiences of my teenage years. The place was becoming a second home to me. This was only further solidified by my new school, just twelve minutes away.

After quitting my job at follow, I started to study there from 3.30 to 5.30 a couple of times a week. It was a little treat, a friendly set of faces. The same people I’d been complaining to for years, but with even more substance this time. They knew all about my studies, after all, they were the reason I had left. My former colleagues had experienced the start of sixth form by my side. I studied there waiting on the same 150 bus I had been waiting on when I first found the place, all those years previously.

In lower sixth, I unsuccessfully ran for the UK Youth Parliament. The results for this came through when I was having my usual iced hazelnut latte and cry over a-levels in follow. The following summer, I sat the UKCAT, achieving a * slightly * better than average score, at the time I sat this, I didn’t know it would be better than average at all, the first people to hear all about it, and most other aspects of my University application were the staff of Follow. After passing my driving test in the winter of my Upper Sixth year, my first ever successful parallel park was on a street perpendicular to Follow, on a frosty February evening. Throughout that school year, I would consistently have to attend various mandatory revision classes for my three-surviving a-level subjects and the many resits I had reluctantly gotten myself into. Follow became a solace. The calm in the midst of the seemingly constant storm of a-levels. My former best work friend, simply became a best friend of mine. She got herself a house, became a real adult right in front of me. She was pursuing her passion for photography, doing incredibly well for herself. Then I got into medical school. Eventually.

In September 2019, I moved away. All I had ever wanted was right in front of me, a one-way plane ticket out of Northern Ireland and a place to study medicine.

For three months, I’ve been carving out a little life for myself in Lancaster. I have my own place, I am, slowly but surely, becoming a real adult. I am a far cry from the scared thirteen-year old that landed in that coffee shop desperately seeking wi-fi. Though somehow, almost a year after passing my driving test, I’m right back waiting for somewhat questionable bus services again. The 150 has turned into the dreaded 100. St Louis’ is but a happy-rose tinted memory. Lancaster Medical School has replaced the dreaded long days and mandatory revision classes with -perhaps- even more dreaded 6.30pm lectures and mandatory Problem Based Learning presentations.

Oddly enough, I am very single, and very unemployed, and truly very happy about it. This time in my life is as formative as those times I’ve been reflecting on. Even more so maybe.

But I’d be lying if I said everything in my new life in England is perfect. They say distance makes the heart grow fonder, and the latest development in me and Follow Coffee Co’s story is our long-distance phase. I miss it dearly, the familiarity it gave me throughout sixth form, the distinctive abrupt yet friendly nature of its Ballymena clientele. But it will always be there to welcome me home. It better be.

It took leaving for me to realise that you rarely find a place that means as much to you as Follow means to me, and that Starbucks and Costa rarely can give you the wealth of life experience of your favourite independent coffee shop. I have sat at every table in the place. Cried at most of them, over anything and everything from University rejections, to tiny irrelevant fights with strangers on the internet. I know every crevice of the tables, floors and skirting boards. I’ve even accidentally mopped the concrete floor and faceplanted it in my time.

Ballymena has many flaws, but it’s character and community is unmatched. No place illustrates that better to me than this. Go, visit your local independent coffee establishment. Maybe even get a job. You never know who you’ll meet, or what you’ll learn. This world is a beautiful place. Hell - Even Ballymena is.

[eabhaalynn]

Looking Back on My New Years’ Resolutions

1.    ‘Learn Cigarette Daydreams on the Guitar before Iona O Neill gets back from Nepal’

Yes! I did this, the week after I got home from America. I have forgotten it now but at one point I knew how to play it so I’ll accept this as a little win.

2.    ‘Sort this fucking St Andrews mess and hopefully get there’

Did sort the mess out. Long story short my dream university wouldn’t interview me because they counted me – an Irish person with an Irish passport born and raised in Northern Ireland – as an international student. They told me this on December 30THand then closed for four days. I cried about it and then posted them all of the IDs I could dig out along with a letter from an MLA (thanks Roy Beggs). After more than one teary phone conversation I got given an interview.

I failed said interview and it broke my heart but months down the line I realised everything happens for a reason. 

(Yes I see that I liked my own Insta here ... but its grand, we’ve all been there)

3.    ‘Get a Glasgow interview’

Nope. They just waited six months and a day to reject me. Losers.

4.    ‘Get into medicine anywhere’

I did this. In the most unconventional way possible. I love you Lancs, even if our relationship is the tiniest bit toxic.

Apologies to everyone who saw me between the 15th and 22nd of August. ‘Twas the worst week of my life, but sure you know yourself. It still didn't stop me seeing General Fiasco. Enjoy the snippet straight from the priv that sums up that week in a nutshell. 

5.    ‘Maybe pass my driving test who even knows anymore’

YES! Eight months and eleven minors later I passed my driving test in February. One week later I drove myself and a friend to Ballymena and spent 45 minutes parallel parking. Still looked pretty though. 

Jeremy Corsa and I have had a pretty great wee career together ever since.

6.    ‘Travel and Travel and Travel again’

Let me just list everywhere I’ve travelled this year; Dublin, Manchester, St Andrews (lol), Edinburgh, Baltimore, Hebden Bridge, London, Lancaster (if that counts).

I’ll take that as a win too. My month in the US was incredible and I have really made the most of living between two countries, doing lots of exploring around England and Ireland when I’m in each of them.

7.    ‘Get out of Northern Ireland long term’

Success. In England at least until June 2020. Hopefully will finish this degree there. We’ll see whether my brain starts being nicer to me.

8.    ‘Take better care of myself physically and emotionally.’

Debatable. I’ve definitely been trying to.

We’ll call this one a work in progress.

9.    ‘Get back on the rails with school’

I actually did. I have never worked harder than I did in term two and three of upper sixth. But I also don’t regret spending term one of upper sixth off the rails with schoolwork, because I needed it and deserved it and it was SO much fun. I should maybe get on the rails with Uni work in 2020, but I’m putting myself first for now.

10.  ‘Allow myself to catch feels again’

I’ve maybe achieved this one too much. I need to chill with the feels catching in 2020, or maybe even catch feels for people who aren’t married politicians? A work in progress 100%, but isn’t that what being 18 is all about?

11.  Turn 18

Don’t be too shocked, but I actually did turn 18 this year.  

[eabhaalynn]

My 11 Songs of the Decade (because 10 would be boring and is overdone.)

Cigarette Daydreams – Cage the Elephant

The song… This is the closing song of Cage the Elephant’s 2013 album, Melophobia, and the third single released from this album. It describes the pain of someone’s search for their own identity through the musings of a parted lover.

For me… To this day, this is the song I cry to. This always has been me and my friend Iona’s song. It will forever be inseparable from the Ulster Museum and Botanic Gardens in Belfast, from rainy summer’s days and rants about our seemingly massive problems with GCSEs and girls from school. When she went abroad for her gap year, I couldn’t bear to listen to it. It’s another one of these songs that manages to articulate what it feels like to be young and thinking too much.

Key lyric…If we can find a reason, a reason to change Looking for the answer If you can find a reason, a reason to stay Standing in the pouring rain

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uvVJ0v6Vta8

Ribs – Lorde

The song… This is a deep house influenced electronica song that discusses Lorde’s stress over ageing. It was released on her debut album, Pure Heroine, in 2013. It begins ambiently and builds to become increasingly more frantic as the song progresses.

For me… Despite being released when I was a young teenager, this song was written when Lorde was sixteen or seventeen. It articulates exactly what it feels like to be that age, at that stage of life. I’m quite sure teenagers across the globe can relate to that. This song has been the soundtrack of my teenage years, the imagery is both relatable and accessible. Listening now, it gives me a sense of nostalgia, a yearning to be back where I was a year, or two or three years ago. Even now, it is the sound of being alone in a crowd. It is musically perfect, and a piece of exceptional songwriting.

Key lyric…This dream isn't feeling sweet We're reeling through the midnight streets And I've never felt more alone It feels so scary, getting old

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4qaeoz_7cyE

Sign of the Times – Harry Styles

The song…  This is Harry Style’s debut single as a solo artist. It was released in early 2017 and appears on his self-titled debut album. It is a power ballad with eclectic influences from genres such as soft rock, indie rock, glam rock and psychedelic soul. It features Styles’ vocals alongside choral harmonies throughout. It is essentially about avoiding emotion during times of grief and hardship.

For me…This is the song of me leaving school (for the first time). Listening to it now coughs up all the feelings of relief, and yet uncertainty. Excitement, but also nerves. Summer 2017 was a turning point for me. I had had a terrible couple of years over my GCSEs, and overall, my second school was a far better place for me to be than my first one ever was. At the time though, I didn’t know this. Sure, how could I? This song helped me figure out my feelings, and make sense of feeling happy when I really didn’t know what I should have felt at all.

Key lyric…We don't talk enough, we should open up Before it's all too much Will we ever learn? We've been here before It's just what we know

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qN4ooNx77u0

Ride – Lana Del Rey

The song… This song comes from Lana Del Rey’s third EP, Paradise, released in 2012. It served as the first single of this re-release. It is a ballad that includes, among other themes, parental problems, loneliness and alcohol misuse. Del Rey sings over a string drenched, piano driven melody.

For me… This is the song of every summer. It has never been an exceptionally happy song for me, but it is the embodiment of what it is to feel young and alive, if a little bit tired. The glamour of it, alongside the acknowledgement that everything isn’t perfect, but that they will be okay if you just go with the flow, was exactly what I needed at the time it was released. The blissful uncertainty of the summers of being 14 and 15, partnered with the irrelevance of the future, is exactly what this song will always be about for me.

Key lyric… Been trying hard not to get into trouble But I, I've got a war in my mind I just ride, just ride

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Py_-3di1yx0

Don’t Delete the Kisses – Wolf Alice

The song… This is the second single from Wolf Alice’s second album, Visions of a Life. It is characterised as dream pop, synth pop, shoegaze and indie rock. Frontwoman Rowsell referred to it as “one of those, you know, ‘head out the window on a long drive’ kind of tunes.’

For me… If ‘ribs’ is the sound of being seventeen, then surely this is the sound of falling in love. This song is the ultimate love song. I am absolutely convinced of it. It is greater than any one person as it is simply the sound of the feeling. I am very lucky that I actually was falling in love for the first time at the time this was released. I will always be indebted to Ellie Rowsell for being there to tell me in plain English how I was feeling. This song has defined every ‘lovey dovey’ mood I have been in for the last two and a half years. I’m sure most people of my age feel the same. It was written for the era we are living in and it is perfectly suited to it.

Key lyric…I see the signs of a lifetime, you 'til I die

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WqxE-zppu30

Motion Sickness – Phoebe Bridgers

The song… This is the third single from Phoebe Bridger’s 2017 Debut album ‘Stranger in the Alps.’ It describes “being in love with someone who is super mean to you… like conflicted feelings.” Bridger’s stated to radio station KCRW that the song was written about fellow musician Ryan Adams.

For me… Admittedly, I discovered this song late in the decade. But it’s a song about feelings. Like, really hard feelings. This decade, and especially the latter half of it, threw up a lot of feelings, about a lot of things. I suppose this is fairly standard for most people approaching the end of their teenage years. It’s angsty, without being too bothered about anything. It’s raw and honest; articulating everything I’ve felt about everyone at one stage or another, and I’m equally, I’m sure it articulates enough people’s feelings about me.

Key lyric… You said when you met me you were bored And you, you were in a band when I was born

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9sfYpolGCu8

A & E – Brand New Friend

The song… This illustrates the rise and fall of a relationship, and in doing so highlights the more melancholic acoustic side of Northern Irish indie pop group Brand New Friend. It was initially released in 2016 as the closing song of their debut EP, American Wives, but was remastered and re-released on their 2017 album Seatbelts for Airplanes.

For me… This is the song of the medicine application. Bearing in mind I know this band, and know that there is a well-developed meaning to the song that has nothing to do with me, this is the song that I have listened to, and seen live, countless times from the day I decided I wanted to be a doctor to the day I got into medical school and beyond. It is a rare and beautiful connection to have to a song like this, and one for which I am forever going to be grateful. Now, I can’t hear the song live without bawling my wee eyes out. I have come so far, and the band have too, and the song has been with us every step of the way. That truly means the world to me.

Key lyric… She wants to be a paramedic / Wants to save a strangers life / Now she wants to hold my hand / Does she know she’s saving mine?

https://open.spotify.com/track/5RmOfF1s5zW2B942H9OGXT?si=hsauA8iXQN6mXQnL8s0fBw

Brazil – Declan McKenna

The song… McKenna initially self-released this song in December 2014. It is critical of FIFA, of their awarding of the 2014 World Cup to Brazil without addressing the deep rooted and extensive poverty affecting the Nations people. It gained widespread media attention throughout the FIFA corruption scandal, before featuring on his debut album, ‘What do you think about the Car?’ in July 2017. It is an indie rock song that is driven by guitars and synths.

For me… This song was the sound of 2016 and 2017. It was released a while before this but I was fairly late jumping on the bandwagon. It’s a political song, speaking of the injustices behind FIFA and their 2014 World Cup in Brazil. As an angry little leftist, I have always appreciated this. I can only appreciate it more knowing that Declan McKenna himself was only fourteen when he wrote it. For me the song has many happy memories attached to it, from the long summer walks from my house to the nearest village to see my friends who were working as sailing instructors, to attending a tiny gig of Declan McKenna’s in the Oh Yeah Centre in Belfast and being about 6 feet from his face while he was 6 feet from the cusp of fame.

Key lyric…Because you've had your chances, yeah you've had enough I'm gonna burn your house down to spread peace and love

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=duHjQ3BE6D8

Robbers – The 1975

The song… This is the sixth single from the 1975’s self-titled debut album. It was released as a single in May 2014. The song’s concept follows an ill-fated robbery, and was inspired in part by the 1993 film ‘True Romance.’ It is essentially about a relationship in which the partners are too focused on each other to notice the destruction they are each causing.

For me… This song is fairly definitive of my teenage years as a whole. The narrative of a toxic relationship that the writer could not, or would not leave, was one that I always managed to connect to, across all aspects of my life as a young teenager, encountering uncomfortable situations within school and with different people and groups of friends. Matty Healy was (and honestly still is) one of the biggest crushes I’ve ever had. I’ve now heard this song live three different times, at three completely different phases of my life. It is a song with so much meaning, and yet one that has grown and evolved with me throughout the decade.

Key lyric… Now everybody's dead And they're driving past my old school And he's got his gun, he's got his suit on She says, 'Babe, you look so cool'

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Iyy3YOpxL2k

Get Well Soon – Ariana Grande

The song… This is the final song on Grande’s 2017 album ‘Sweetener,’ it is a soul ballad with layered vocals, and is inspired by Grande’s personal anxiety and trauma following the May 2017 terrorist attack following her concert in Manchester. In memory of the 22 victims of this attack, there is a 40 second moment of silence at the end of the song.

For me… I am, and have been, a very anxious person for a very long time. This is something I have never really hid away from, but also never felt up to talking openly about. This song manages to describe the feelings associated with anxiety in a way I have never heard any mainstream musician attempt before. Ariana’s concert which was attacked in May 2017, that which inspired this song, immediately followed her concert that my father and sister had attended, and so the whole song and sequence of events is and always has been very close to home for me.

Key lyric…I'm too much in my head, did you notice? (Girl, what’s wrong with you? Come back down)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hXU4P6j3TNY

She’s Thunderstorms – Arctic Monkeys

The song… This is the first song from the fourth studio album by arctic monkeys; Suck it and See, released in 2011. It originated when Alex Turner was looking for a new way of complimenting someone. It begins with an Eastern inspired riff and is fairly heavily guitar led, characteristic of this period in the Arctic Monkey’s discography

For me… I’d be lying if I said this isn’t one of my favourite songs of all time. I chose it for this list because it is my favourite song by the arctic monkeys, who are my favourite band. Its subject, Alexa Chung, basically leads the life I wish I had. Even more so at the time this song was written than now. I remember being twelve or thirteen and just wanting someone to write something like this for me. The sheer detail of the lyrics is beautiful and so captivating, they played a huge part in helping me find my love for music in an accessible way. I loved, and still do love, the relationship they had. I feel like it translated so well into his music, and into the popular culture that shaped my teenage years exceptionally well.  

Key lyric…Here is your host, sounds as if she's pretty close When the heat starts growing horns She's thunderstorms

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SQSQnHh4rPE

[eabhaalynn]

An Open Letter to the 31 Signatories of the Recall Petition - 18/10/19

Dear MLA

I am writing to articulate my concern and disdain upon hearing that you signed a recall petition calling for the NI Assembly at Stormont to sit this Monday October 21st, especially given the timing of this petition.

This week, we reached one thousand days since we’ve had a functioning assembly. That has been one thousand days of our political decisions being made – not by you, our elected representatives – but by unelected civil servants.

I have come of age in a period of - to put it lightly - political discourse. I am eighteen. When the assembly last sat, I was fifteen. In the time that has elapsed I have gained ten GCSEs three A-levels with an extra AS and got into my dream degree at a brilliant University in England. It was when we reached a year, and then eventually eighteen months without an Assembly, while I continued my studies at excellent schools under excellent teachers in Northern Ireland and watched those schools suffer under your lack of direction and leadership, I decided I could not remain in Northern Ireland any longer than I needed to. I am officially a part of the great ‘brain drain’ of rural Ireland, and I am going to be a great doctor someday in England.

This hurts me. Because I am so proud to be Northern Irish, and I am so proud of my Irish heritage, and I am even prouder again of the place the people of Northern Ireland have made for themselves in the twenty-one years since the Good Friday Agreement. In a deeply divided Society, I have grown up with friends from any and all political and religious persuasion, with all sorts of views on the very issues that have finally brought you back to work. But I could not have stayed in a nation that places the breaching declared human rights from women, pregnant people and the LGBT community, at a higher importance than such vital public services as the NHS and education.

The NHS is something I care very passionately about. I have worked within it, I have spoken to patients and families about waiting lists that are completely unsustainable and unfair on patients and doctors alike, that are out of our control but certainly not out of yours. I have shadowed doctors, nurses and social workers across disciplines in the NHS, who have been working above and beyond their workloads while you looked on doing nothing. I have even been a patient in the NHS at both a Primary and Secondary Care level and experienced the dedication of these health professionals to their work in a time where the service crumbled around them due to you, your party and your assembly’s ineptitude.

While I gathered all of this work and life experience, while I grew up, while you have been taking an all too conveniently timed furlough from work, and before I fled your shambolic elected office at home, I even managed to change schools. After studying at a rural, Catholic non grammar school for five years, I made the jump to St Louis Grammar in Ballymena. This allowed me to pursue my career in medicine in a way I simply would not have been able to if I had stayed at my previous school. Luckily, I thrived at St Louis, and proudly identify as a St Louis alum, but the fact I had to do this is a disgrace. My school was not sufficiently funded to offer the courses I needed at A-Level. It certainly has the calibre of teachers and students; it gets people into medicine almost every year. But it could not have provided me with the subjects I needed to achieve the future which has become my present. This is not the school’s problem. This is a funding problem. The school, like most other schools across the country, is suffering because it is being inadequately supported by the very executive and assembly that was founded to enable it to thrive. But that doesn’t bother you enough to have you sign a recall petition, now, does it? It is now a full two years since I left that school. Its retention rates are going down, along with its budget. Teachers and their students are suffering. Living, born, children are suffering. But to me, the concerned constituent, it appears the plight of children doesn’t bother you after they’ve left the womb?

As I mentioned previously, I moved to St Louis Grammar, where I thrived. St Louis enabled me to sit A-Level politics where I was taught about the functioning of the assembly, which, in my lower sixth, had ‘only’ been down for nine months. Politics informed me on the issues which mattered to me, and those which have mattered to you and your party, and how deeply different they are.

I was raised in a very nationalist area. I was raised Catholic, though I acknowledge my faith is now lapsed. My entire background is catholic and nationalist, and I am as culturally Irish as it gets. Sectarianism was never an issue for me. I never defined people by what church they went to, or what Nationality they said they were. Northern Irish is British, it’s Irish, it’s both. That is a messy but beautiful thing to me, no one else has a country as demographically exciting as we do. This is why I am so disgusted at the blatant sectarianism informing your actions over the last three years, encompassing the lead up to and the collapse of the institutions, and the rhetoric that has been used about Nationalist politicians and their supporters in the time since. Evidently, I care deeply about politics. But I don’t feel represented by any of you! I know from my a-level that representation is one of your main jobs, the only one of the three functions of your role as an MLA that should continue in the absence of the legislature – don’t worry, I wouldn’t expect you to legislate and scrutinise too, that’d be holding my expectations too high.

St Louis also taught me the power of sectarianism that remains in Northern Ireland today. Ballymena remains a dominantly Protestant town, and St Louis’ is the only Catholic grammar there. This almost trebled my Protestant friends, but also reminded me that not everyone was raised in as anti-sectarian manner as I was. While I went for after class coffees with my friends from other schools in the town, indicating other denominations, we would get sneered at. When I went to study in the central library, in the dominantly unionist side of town, I would be met with sectarian abuse, with everything from ‘educated fucking fenian scum’ to having middle aged men spit on me, simply for wearing my school uniform.

You breed this culture, and you have bred this culture for the last three years, by refusing to speak to your political opponents. Once again, your constituents are suffering. Public relations are suffering, hate crime is on an exponential growth curve and you have done nothing but exacerbate these problems for the entire length of time I have been on the electoral register, and even longer again. You, your whole party, the whole assembly (yes, both sides) should be ashamed.

So why did this not push you back to power sharing? Why were ordinary civilians giving and receiving abuse to each other not enough to encourage you to get back into work? How, in your own conscious, is it acceptable for adults to verbally abuse children for their perceived religion in Northern Ireland in 2018-19?

What it did take to get you back to work was the thought of women and the LGBT+ community gaining rights in line with the rest of the United Kingdom which you hold so dear.

I have detailed in this letter how much Northern Ireland has suffered at the hands of your ineptitude and the institutional sectarianism over the last three years. This doesn’t even begin to describe how much the women of Northern Ireland who have had to travel to access what is, essentially, healthcare, have suffered as a consequence of the law here and of the culture of fear you are perpetuating.

I hope you never know what it is like to experience a crisis pregnancy. I hope you are never raped. I hope you are never a victim of incest. I hope these things never happen to me either. But the fact remains, these things happen. They happen every day to women all over Northern Ireland, and they happen to our sisters in Britain and in the Republic of Ireland too. I just rest easier at night knowing that in the most awful of circumstances, I now live under a jurisdiction that values my bodily autonomy.

There is a reasoned argument against abortion, and I do understand, if disagree, with it. But what I cannot understand is how you place removing this right from the women you were elected to serve at a higher priority than educating their children once they are born or providing those who take care of them with the resources they so desperately need.

This letter doesn’t even begin to detail the plight Northern Ireland’s LGBT+ youth. This is because I have no first-hand experience of this myself, but I have watched friends’ mental health suffer consistently, at the hands of an Executive that fundamentally sees them as inferior. How can we keep letting our children grow up in a society like this? How can you claim to be a Christian while allowing those who you’re supposed to represent to suffer the worst mental health epidemic in Northern Irelands history? How can you speak so horribly of the young people that should be your country’s future, simply for how they identify or who they love?

You do not represent me. Your actions this week have only further confirmed this. You are failing at not only your legislative and scrutiny roles, but now – officially – you are failing at your representative role too.

Yours Sincerely,

Eabha Lynn

[eabhaalynn]

Your Local A-Level Survival Guide

If you’re reading this, I’m sorry.

It probably means you’re doing a-levels. That is… unfortunate.

Everyone has a different experience of their a-level years. For me, they were the most enjoyable two years of my school career. I found some of the best friends in the world and honestly learned so much, both in and out of school. However even I have to say that the exams were the WORST. There were too many tears, tantrums and existential crisis’ to count.

And yet, I survived them. And I have so many friends who survived them too. And if I can get through them in one piece, anyone can.

So; here’s a little advice on how to survive the stresses of sixth form, both in school and out, and maybe even get a few a-levels along the way. I’ve split them into revision tips, school life and social life because this post is a fairly hefty read. (sorry again!)

STU(DYING) 

1.    Make notes as you go along.

You will LOVE yourself for this in June. A-Level content isn’t anything close to GCSE content, and you simply will not have time to start writing notes and learn them all around exam time.

Try to keep within a day of your class with your own notes and if you fall behind during the week, try to get caught up that weekend.

Find a note-taking style that fits how you learn. I personally realised in my upper sixth year – just a tiny bit late - that I loved making and learning off of summary posters. Trying out different ways of note taking will do no harm.

2.    Ask if you need help

Your teachers and friends are all on your side. You are not a burden for asking them to explain an idea to you again, or to reword something. Your teachers are literally being paid to help you, and your mates are in exactly the same position you are. Ask them for help if you need it, because a-levels really are very hard – and they only get harder if you try to go it alone.

3.    Find somewhere you can bare to study in

In school, if you have a choice of study rooms, spend your free time in ones you like – okay, maybe tolerate – being in. At GCSE we only had one study and I hated it, but at A-Level I had the choice of two, with a definite favourite, and it really makes the difference.

Make friends with your study supervisors, they have the power to make or break your a-level years.

At home, study where you’re comfortable. But not too comfortable. Your leavers hoodie will become your wearable hug over study leave and I also highly recommend investing in comfy tracksuit bottoms. You get used to looking like a tent most of the time

My favourite places to study were the public library and various coffee shops around the town I studied in. They were less strict than school, but still required more discipline than trying to study in my bedroom. Just try not to develop a caffeine dependency over the next two years because I certainly did.

4.  Don’t compare yourself to others.

You are not your friends. You are different people, you probably have different ways of making your tea, and you almost certainly will have different ways of studying.

 I remember around repeat season seeing my friend sit and do a booklet of twelve past papers all day. To her credit, she did them all. I, on the other hand, did a total of one past paper over three repeat exams. We put the same hours in. We got the same grades in the end.

Other peoples work doesn't invalidate your own. Everyone is working with their own skills and capabilities.

5.  Repeat everything you need to.

There is absolutely nothing wrong with repeating modules in upper sixth. There’s also absolutely nothing wrong with repeating upper or lower sixth.

The extended exam period (seven (!!) weeks) is awful; it is genuinely very difficult to avoid burnout, but your understanding of modules is so much better second time around and repeats almost always pay off.

You will meet a whole new group of friends through repeating modules, purely because it is so difficult that you have no choice but to cling on to the people that are going through it with you

6.    Don’t do an unnecessary hard one

All A-Levels are hard. Some a-levels (chemistry and biology for me, also twitter tells me further maths) are very hard. Unless your Uni course requires those traditional, exceptionally hard subjects, don’t do them.

Pick your subjects around your interests, because your whole life is going to revolve around them for two years. Two years of interesting impossible exams beat two years of boring impossible exams any day.

No matter how much you love that fourth subject, don’t take it – and don’t keep it on – unless you absolutely have to. Your grades may suffer, your already limited free time will suffer, and there are very few cases where you will ever need it. I loved AS History with every fibre of my being, but for my course I didn’t need four subjects past AS and so it would have been unsustainable and unnecessary to keep on yet another academically challenging subject

7.  Make use of the resources available to you.

Ask your older friends for their notes, borrow and buy textbooks, read relevant articles online.

 My school was especially good for this, if you like making notes on a certain kind of paper (like A3 or squared for example) ask your teachers to get you some.

Use the free printing credits your school gives you! The internet is full of additional notes and papers and worksheets that are free and quite literally a click away.

SKOOL LIFE

1.    You are the most important

No a-level is more important than you and your wellbeing. Take care of your mental and physical health throughout your studies. Nothing in this world is more important than that.

If you are suffering, tell someone! A-Levels can feel so lonely and sixth form can be a very high-pressure environment, but every adult in your school has a duty of care over you, and there is always someone to help you through it all; be it a friend, family member, teacher or youth worker.

2.    Be nice!

-      Schools are inherently toxic environments. Everyone is loaded with hormones and there are few things in this world scarier than a building full of stressed teenagers.Be nice to everyone you come across, no one loves a levels and most will really struggle through them. You only ever know a tiny bit of what is going on in someones life, so do try not to make anyone’s life any harder.

3.    Take every opportunity that comes to you

-      Take part in any extra curricular you can. You probably will learn more from them than you do in class, and you get the chance to make friends with people you’d never come across otherwise. I did debate, public speaking and the rotary award during my sixth form, and they all helped me so much to develop the soft skills and time management that eventually got me into my degree.

4.    Set aside time for careers/admin

-      It might not be a-level important, but you’ll find yourself with a lot of sorting out of your life to do throughout sixth form – especially if you’re applying to medicine or similar courses that require multi-step application processes.

5.    There’s no right or wrong way to do sixth form

-      A-Levels aren’t a one-way street. You may have to change subjects, you may have to take time out, you may end up sitting your courses at two different schools, over one or two or three years, and that is all okay. No matter what way you do it, you’re doing alright.

6.    UCAS will ruin your life.

-      UCAS is the sixth form version of the wee guy on the bus who would pick on you incessantly, and even though he was never that important, he’d always be there and never do anything worthwhile for your life.

-      It’s not the worst thing in the world, but it is another thing to worry about, when you really don’t need it to be.

-      Try to keep on top of it and get your application over with early. The emails from track will keep giving you the fear forever, even after you’ve had 3 straight up rejections, missed an offer, declined two different offers and confirmed your place.

SOCIAL LIFE (trust me it does exist)

1.    Balance is everything

It is not normal to have your life be so centred around one place as much as it is during a-levels. As well as this, being 16 – 18 is literally the best time to be alive and make memories in your whole life. Spend lots of time on schoolwork, but not all of it.

2. You’re not going out too much

You work so unbelievably hard all week. You do deserve to go out sometimes.

My upper sixth was framed by panicking and feeling wracked with guilt every time I left my house or went on any night out. This is no way to feel There is more to life than a-levels and upper sixth is the last time in your life where all your school mates will be all together all the time. Make the most of it! (Just, also make notes)

3.    Take a day off

Like literally, take a day off a week

I took Sundays off schoolwork in upper sixth, when I usually worked in the afternoon, had the morning to myself and the evening as a time to rest. This will keep you sane.

4.    Make time for the friends you don’t see everyday

You won’t have a lot of free time, but if you make a conscious effort to see your far away friends every couple of weeks it always gives you something to look forward to.

5.    Don’t give in to peer pressure

I promise it is so much fun to go out and not drink excessively. Don’t do hard drugs, don’t drink more than you can handle, especially not over term time. It’s just not worth it. Showing up to school hungover is not a good look, or any fun at all – no matter what your mates say. A-Levels are a stressful enough two years without losing all this extra time to hangovers and come downs.

6.    Make good habits

 If you have a spare evening during the week, go for a walk. Take the bus and walk one day a week instead of driving. Maybe even join a gym. As well as a distraction, exercise and a generally healthy lifestyle will get your endorphins flowing and you will notice a huge difference to your stress levels within a few weeks.

You’re going to need comfort food – trust me on that one. But if you’re going to substitute a healthy lunch for a chicken box and squashies, at least have a banana for breakfast. And never skip breakfast, it will make you a hangry, hanxious, horrible person.

Congratulations! You made it to the end. I really hope you’ve found at least some of this advice helpful, and that you get through sixth form with all of your sanity intact. 

(I’d like to thank Julia Anusiak, Alexandra Rosbotham, Aoife Donaghy, Maeve Denver, Gabrielle Carland, Caitriona Fitzpatrick, Grace Craig and Jack Worrall for their contributions to this blog post)

[eabhaalynn]

Part 6 - Nobody Deserves to be in Your Life by Default

Having spent the best part of my first month after leaving school in America, this subject really came to my attention upon spending time with the friends who live there. Baltimore is 3322 miles from Ballymena. Colorado, where I met my friend who I now affectionately refer to as my American step-brother, is even further than that. It has been over seven years since we met, and our lives are based in two very different parts of the world. By default, we should have stopped speaking years ago. Grown up, grown apart, fell out of touch by circumstance. And yet, we didn’t. Despite both of us very definitely growing up, our personalities and interests changing, he remains one of my closest friends – albeit not geographically so.

Even closer to home, my spread of friends pretty much covers Northern Ireland, with people dotted around the UK and Ireland too. Brought together by anything and everything from school events to gigs and concerts, to mutual friends who have since travelled to Nepal and Canada. These are all people who don’t remain in my life by default.

What changing schools after fifth year taught me, and what eventually leaving upper 6thdid too, was that no one deserves to be in your life by default. Just because you see someone for upwards of thirty hours a week, doesn’t mean you’re obliged to stay in touch with them after those thirty-hour weeks end. In my case, I mostly didn’t. In years of 140-180 people, I can count on two hands the people I have regularly kept in touch with from each. This is not a bad reflection on me, nor on anyone else I have been to school with. It’s just a simple fact. You put effort into friendships that are good for you, devote your time and energy to people who’ll return their time and energy. Friendship is not about quantity, it’s about quality. I can only wish I had learned this sooner.

The friends you make and bond with over common interests that reach beyond common classes and common friends are the ones that are destined to last. Perhaps the former is less obvious in sixth form, though, as there is maybe no stronger bond in my life than the (covalent) bond of the shared trauma of a level chemistry.  But even then, you shouldn’t expect to be friends with everyone forever just because you did an a-level with them.

This is especially true of friendships that aren’t rewarding for you. Schools are cesspits of toxicity and people can be horrible. The pack mentality is omnipresent in schools, and all too often you can fall in with people out of convenience. All too often, though, this is not good for you. Or for them. It causes bickering, rows, and always leads to someone being left out. Take care of yourself, prioritise your own happiness without jeopardising other peoples. Eventually, you will find yourself, despite the chaos of it all.

[eabhaalynn]

Part 5 - There Will Be Tears

This one starts in my school assembly hall on a stuffy September morning, all the way back in 2017. Packaged up in my brand-new uniform in my brand-new school, surrounded by 180 people who would go on to include some of the most important people in my life. It was the first assembly of Sixth Form. My brand-new year head was introducing the school year, introducing me and my fellow ‘externals,’ welcoming back the originals, talking about all the great times ahead. All the exciting opportunities of sixth form, the new friends and teachers I was going to spend the next two years with.

Her concluding paragraph though, opened with the line, ‘but there will be tears.’ She went on to tell us about how her door was always open if it all got too much – she told us there would be times ahead where it would all get too much. She said that we probably would end up crying in the toilets at some stage.

She wasn’t wrong.

I’m an ardent defender of my school. I love the place. They were genuinely the best two years of my life. But there were tears. So many tears.

A – Levels are exceptionally difficult exams, and I care too much about everything anyway. This is a great combination for exercising the tear ducts. Over the last two years, I have cried in every single class. Only one of the five was actually over the class though, it’s more likely to be over the workload. In fact, if you’re going to cry at all it’ll probably be over some of that – honestly… disgusting – a level course content. However, I am a bit of a crier anyway, and so I found myself in tears over such trivial issues as attendance and homework. It is a really emotionally destructive situation to find yourself in. And a quick word of warning – don’t expect sympathy from any adult in your life ever. They’ll just tell you that everyone has to do a- levels and that you’ll get through them. This is as true as it is unhelpful.

Taking a look back over the last two years has almost been comical. Even without the A – Levels, simply being this age is enough for your wee neurotransmitters to handle. As I’ve said, I just cry constantly anyway, but one lesson from sixth form is that that is completely okay, and even good for you sometimes.

It’s okay to cry if he doesn’t like you back, it’s even okay to cry if you don’t know whether he likes you back or not because you haven’t got the balls to ask him.

It’s okay to cry if ‘he’ is a University, an exam board, a part time job. It is okay to cry.

[eabhaalynn]

Part 4 - You Are More Than What Any One Event or Person Says You Are

As you may have noticed from previous posts, or from my social media outside of this blog; I was rejected from a few Universities this year. I was also dumped this year. I failed my driving test this school year too. It has been a time.

Contrary to those events though, this school year has probably been the best one yet. This is so typical for me, saving the best until last. Spending twelve years hating school and then only when it’s about to end realising that you have found your place and that you might actually miss it. But see, if I didn’t learn this lesson very early into Upper Sixth, it would not have been half as fun. In fact, it would have been the worst craic possible.

I have one of these personalities that you either ‘get’ or you don’t. As much as I don’t like to think of myself as divisive, I am. This has its positives, because I know that the people who I do get on well with are really my kind of people. It also means that -generally- if someone can stick with me for years (plural), they’re a friend for life. However, I am more than aware that people don’t like me. I’m that horrid combination of socially awkward and extroverted that leads to me just mumbling nonsense for hours on end when I get nervous, just to fill the silence. I’m a deeply emotive person, easily hurt and thus very protective of myself around new people. I know this makes me come across as a cold bitch. But I promise I never mean to.

My junior school experience was an odd one. I wasn’t very popular, but equally accept that that was largely my fault. I look back at the years from 2012-2015 and just cringe… with every fibre of my being. The social awkwardness meets extroversion which has grown to become a quirk of my personality was, at the time, just ‘a bit weird.’ I was picked on for my appearance, for my academics, and I got protective. In real terms, I grew into a pretentious prick. But self-awareness is a great thing and I eventually grew out of that. At least now I’ve balanced the pretentiousness out with some well needed self-deprecating humour. At least I now know my own flaws.

Honestly though, I wish it was as obvious to me then as it is now that I am more than what any one person says I am. Everyone is. We are all complex beings with unique thoughts, feelings, with different skills and talents and values. We, as humans, are all intrinsically beautiful. No one persons’ opinion of any other person is that ultimately important or character defining. I know that I personally placed far too much weight on public perception of me, and it didn’t make me any happier.

We are all going to have our insecurities, and if anyone ever was mean to you about a certain feature of your appearance when you were twelve you probably are going to carry that with you into adulthood, that’s to be expected. But you cannot sustain your own happiness long term if you see yourself, your personality, your physical appearance, through the scope of someone else’s eyes. Nobody is that important.

Sixth form taught me that when you’re 5’8 at sixteen, people care a little bit less about it than when you were that same height on your fourteenth birthday. It taught me that no one has time to care whether you wear glasses and do chemistry or not, because everyone is far too busy with their own lives to care – and if they do care it says more about them than it does about you.

There are always going to be people who don’t like you – but it took me these last two years to realise that that’s alright. All you can do is be the best person you can within your own ability, and most people will realise that. And the ones who don’t? They don’t matter. Perhaps even more importantly to realise in Sixth Form is that you are more than any one event in your life. Be it a success or a failure. You are the product of an entire life’s worth of experiences, opportunities and mistakes. No one thing is really that important. This is the thing I had to learn before Upper Sixth came down upon me like a hammer on a rubber duck. See, I knew this. Consciously, I was very aware of this fact. But I still found it so difficult to depersonalise all of these big failures, all of the bad marks. I still took it as a big ego boost on the rare occasion I actually did something well.

Trying to add up the hours spent crying about all sorts of nonsense through the year is embarrassing, I’ve definitely surpassed the 24-hour mark. But with the gift that is hindsight, none of it is all that important. Sorry if it’s just me, but I will not be defined by the fact that I didn’t get my driving test first time. I am more than that University I wanted to go to so badly that didn’t want me back. I’m also more than ‘Commended’ in the British Biology Olympiad. I’m more than a Public Speaking Finalist. And so are you.

P.S. You are more than your opinion of yourself.

Typing out this post seemed like a letter to my third/fourth/fifth year self that really was desperately needed. So, I couldn’t conclude it without really emphasising that everything I wrote is true about your own opinions of yourself too.

People can be horrible, especially young people with their own problems and insecurities. We all are capable of being awful to each other, and I’m sure most of us can admit that we have been. I’ll be the first to put my hand up and say that there are things I regret saying, things I regret doing. People who I took my own internalised thoughts out on, who maybe did or maybe didn’t deserve it. We all fight with each other. Of course, I have my own divisive personality; but by our very nature, humans are divided.

However, I don’t think I have ever been as mean to anyone as I’ve been to myself. In fact, most people I know are the same. If my friends talked about me like they talk about themselves sometimes, I’d likely never talk to them again. There are times I think so lowly of myself I don’t even think I could stand to be my own friend. This is so toxic.

You are more than that. We all are more than that. We all desperately need to treat ourselves better. Physically, we are all unique, we are all beautiful. It’s as simple as our very thumbs. Do you know how many years of evolution went into producing you? Do you realise how much of a biological phenomenon you are? YOU HAVE THUMBS! Could you even imagine life without them? We aren’t meant to be these ethereal beings, we are made to make mistakes, to be imperfect. But we need to be more grateful for ourselves.

Emotionally, human life is amazing. Forming friendships and meaningful relationships atop of this little blue dot we call the world is truly impressive stuff. At the end of the day, the fact you think that your arms look fat in photos, or the fact you can only flirt using insult-based humour doesn’t really matter. You are incredible. You have so much to be proud of – don’t let any internal monologue tell you otherwise.

[eabhaalynn]

Part 3 - The Only Constant in Life is Change

My GCSE English teacher was always a huge fan of the extended metaphor. Back in the days of those 52-minute classes in Mobile B, which were only really a couple of years ago but feel like a complete lifetime ago, I was told that the extended metaphor was the quick route to the A*. I never quite grasped it at the time, and so never got the A*. But for this topic, I’d be wrong to frame this post with anything but Queen’s University Belfast.

Queen’s, QUB, The Queen’s University of Belfast. It’s my local university. My mum’s alma mater. Back when I started sixth form, going to Queen’s was almost a given. One of the main pull factors of the school I changed to for sixth form was the sheer amount of people it sent to Queen’s.

I have a plethora of childhood memories spent getting lost in the library while my mum looked for some obscure literature to help her along with her seemingly unending postgraduate studies. Summers spent wandering round Botanic Gardens and getting ice cream on Ormeau with my cousins who also -mostly- went on to study at Queen’s or its partner college. Winters spent getting the train to Botanic station to see my auntie, walking through the Quad.

As I approached my teenage years, perhaps some of my favourite memories of Belfast occurred in Queen’s Quarter. Boojum and museum visits with my friend Iona became the highlight of my month, crate digging and catching up with her in the various vintage shops of Botanic Avenue quickly became a favourite pastime. I look back fondly on those summers as probably the happiest and simplest times of my life.

It was Iona who first told me that ‘the only constant in life is change,’ at a time where I was crippled by a fear of it. It was summer 2017, right before I started sixth form, and everything was almost going too well – the kind of ‘too well’ that could never last. As much as that life lesson was appreciated at the time, it has really taken hindsight for the meaning to really hit home.

Everything did change, my friendship groups took a complete 180-degree turn, my schools changed, a level choices changed. Everything turned out better for me than I could ever possibly have imagined. And while one would assume all of this would help me to get over myself, exactly the opposite happened. Suddenly, I had so much to lose. Happy with all the positive change, I had simply had enough change. University scared me to death, what if it all went wrong? My feelings about Queen’s and Belfast changed. Belfast was suffocating, full of the exact same groups of people I had been surrounded by for my whole life, on a larger scale. Queen’s was too much pressure. In the school I was in, and the relationship I was in, it felt like the only option. The more I travelled, the more other places I visited, the more career’s days I attended, the less I liked that.

Lower Sixth was one of the happiest school years of my life. But all good things must come to an end. July 2018 rolled around and before I knew it - I was back at Queens, the place I loved from my infancy, but this time there was the small matter of the UKCAT to sit. A new side to the University came out. An entitlement, almost, that because I was sitting the UKCAT course there, that I was obviouslygoing to apply there, that I obviously wanted to go there. Speaking of pressure, that weekend presented an incomparable volume of pressure. There’s a famous quote from Yeats; “Education is not the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire.” Well, I know that that weekend was not just the filling of a pail, it was the overfilling of a pail, with enough ‘education’ to extinguish any fire sparked by my love for learning or aspirations to go to Queen’s. Back in the Botanic Gardens, boojum in hand, everything had changed. I was alone, and super stressed. You could probably just say that reality had hit, and it wasn’t welcome.

By September, and the Open Day, I had firmly decided that Queen’s wasn’t for me. That Belfast wasn’t for me. It was where my past was – absolutely. And it was a past I am super grateful for and look back on with so much joy and appreciation. But as for my future? I had fallen in love with other cities, other universities. And my boyfriend had fallen out of love with me. If you can get dumped at an Open Day and still see yourself at that Uni, you’re meant to be at that Uni. Facts. Evidently, I wasn’t. Two days later, I sent away my UCAS form. Of course, Queen’s was on it. It probably wouldn’t have gotten past my school’s careers department without QUB and I was truly not in the frame of mind to deal with more conflict over the place. More change, constant change, set to the tune of the Belfast evening.

The following months brought the beginning of gigs, concerts, and big nights in Queen’s Quarter. The unexpected comfort of a blow-up mattress on my friends floor somewhere in the Holylands. They also brought me to Glasgow, St Andrews and Manchester. The line between my present and my future became more definite. It became the flight path between Belfast international and all of those cities. Invitations to interviews came, three interviews on three consecutive weeks in January – squeezed tightly between school days were stressful city breaks and even more opportunity to fall in love with the cities and universities I chose. Meanwhile, Iona left. For Nepal. My heart broke all over again, in a completely new way. I visited the museum and took myself for a stroll through the Botanic Gardens again after my early morning interview at Queen’s. But Iona wasn’t there to experience it with me. She was off to bigger and better things, changing children’s lives on the other side of the world. But the resentment and anger of a fall out or breakup wasn’t there. I was – and am – delighted for her. I couldn’t be prouder of anyone in the world. But at home, for me, everything had changed again. Despite all the beautiful memories, new and old, of Queen’s, it drifted even further into the past following that interview.

February 5thbrought my one and only medicine offer. In the truly iconic setting of McDonalds in Ballymena, I bawled my eyes out to my dad and best work friend. I had found my way out. Manchester wanted me. It was the most surreal evening of my life. Because when you spend years of your life wanting to do something but being told you never will, and then you do get to, shock takes over. More motivated than ever, the offer letter went on the wall while the head went into the books. But St Andrews and Glasgow had other ideas for me and in the month that followed the all too common medicine rejections arrived. I wasn’t too bothered by Glasgow’s rejection. They hadn’t interviewed me and so it felt less personal. Other people had better academics, better UKCATs, and I understood that. St Andrews, however, caused me more tears than any heartbreak, fall out or failure of sixth form could muster. If it’s bad enough to have you down four boxes of Tesco’s brownie bites and 16 of your own home baked brownies in four days, it’s bad enough. In fact, I haven’t eaten a single Tesco’s brownie bite since.

My school has a traditional ‘year night out’ in Belfast every year, usually as a bit of a blow out before exam stress and the emotional rollercoaster of leaver’s hits. The day of YNO rolled around, I was on the train back to Botanic station. Queen’s, with their phenomenal timing, struck again. My third, and final, rejection. I didn’t even want to go - but being rejected by a University who has met you and decided that the very nature of your personality isn’t good enough for their course will always hurt. I cried on the train. Got off at Botanic, with the ominous screech of the automated Translink voice announcing; ‘alight here for Queen’s University,’ moved on and enjoyed my night.

The next morning, I once again walked past the Queen’s McClay Library, through the carpark to the train station. The place was firmly in the past. Emotionally unrecognisable from the place of all of those childhood memories. School uniform on, schoolbag on my back, I walked away from Queen’s and towards my future. Everything changes, everything is always going to change. Nothing else in this life is as certain as that. 

[eabhaalynn]

Part 2 - Your Tribe Do Exist

What made my sixth form experience? What made me actually EnJoY my new school? Whar got me through all of the failure, heartbreak and rejection of the last two years?

Well, maybe I would be better opening these questions with the word “Who,” because the answer to all of them is obviously my friends.

As I’ve referred to in previous posts, I changed schools after fifth year. This followed quite a substantial fall out with a long-term friend, and a lot of extra dramatics among the group I was in. Unsurprisingly, I’ve seen better times since. But that doesn’t make changing schools any less scary.

Luckily for me, I approached my new school with a fresh attitude. My fellow students had so much more in common with me than many of my former peers – this is a natural consequence of a levels, us chemistry nerds have to stick together – the people I surrounded myself with were friends who knew me for who I was at 16 rather than because of a relationship of convenience from five years prior. I was a balloon of anxiety, as I have been for most of the time that’s lapsed since. But I fell in with my tribe and for that I am so grateful.

Of course, I drifted from some people I had been friends with from my previous school – but I became even closer with others who mattered. I learned very quickly after moving schools that you make time for the friendships that matter to you, and that the people who make time for you matter. Your entire school experience is formative, not just the last two years of it. You sometimes need your day ones to keep you sane when a-levels take over, or to stop you making that really bad decision.

Sixth form also introduced me to the wonderful world of medicine days and politics events, to the debate society and to public speaking competitions. One of my main regrets about the school I was at prior to sixth year was the lack of opportunity to partake in these events – which opened doors to an even wider set of people with shared interests, and more things in common with me than I could ever have hoped to find. I started going to gigs, going ‘out-out’ outside of my tiny village. I have got to know some of the most amazing souls, made some lifelong memories in high stress environments.

It also left me with the widest geographical spread of friendships one could possibly have living on the corner of a tiny state on a tiny Island. I know people from every corner of the country, from every tiny town, even just from ‘the twitter.’ For every last one of them I am so grateful.

I couldn’t conclude this post without acknowledging that friendship has its downsides. Where relationships break up, friendships shatter. It is the most awful thing to go through. But in all of the horrendous fallouts I have experienced over the years, I have come out the other side a better person for it. People leave your life for a reason; others will come into it for other reasons. You will always be okay in the end.

So, the resounding message of this post is just the reminder that your tribe is out there, all you have to do is find them. You’re not a weirdo for liking politics or coffee or whatever else a wee bit too much (hiya Kulture Night and Hannah I see u babes xx) I promise there are other people out there who feel the same way too.

Eabha

[eabhaalynn]

Lessons from Sixth Form - Part 1

Melodrama and the Art of Saving New Music For Happier Times

I thought I should write these posts as a reflection on the sixth form experience. Things I have learned over the last two years that aren’t on the a level courses or on any UCAS form. But as soon as I started drafting what I have actually learned from sixth form, I simply couldn’t leave out the context behind these last two years. And so, the first of these ‘lessons from sixth form’ is actually more of a lesson from the end of fifth year: do not listen to that new album from your favourite singer while you’re cramming for exams.

It is a well- known fact that music triggers memories. Being alive teaches us all that. Inevitably, the bad memories are going to have their songs attached. Pacifier by Catfish and the Bottlemen will always remind me of a huge fall out with a friend at the end of fifth year. This just hurts a little more when it’s your first memory of an album. Hits even harder when that album goes on, not just to define a phase of your own life, but of your generation too.

For me, that album was Lorde’s Melodrama. That memory was a late June afternoon in 2017. One of those days where you have an exam but then have to go home and study anyway because the person who writes the exam timetables is out to get you. I had just sat physics and thought I should reward myself by listening to the new Lorde album which I had waited a solid four years for… Suffice to say that was a mistake.

I had my last Further Maths module on the Thursday, this was the Monday. As my fellow less mathematically inclined people landed with the misfortune of sitting Further Maths exams will already understand, this was the worst exam of my worst GCSE. Having already sat 11 exams over six weeks by this stage, I was already exhausted. Things were not good. And as I write this, with Melodrama playing in the background, it all comes flying back to me. Two full years later. Lying on the floor of my room with a sprawl of books, trying my hardest to learn an entire textbook of a subject I didn’t care for or understand… and I only had three days. It’s a position I have been in many times since, yet I haven’t made that mistake twice.

What I initially wanted to do with this post was to provide a reminder of what not to do with an album. But I’d be lying if I ignored how melodrama has grown with me despite our rocky start. I suppose that’s like a huge analogy for all of my sixth form, and there is no better album to soundtrack it. And so, in summation, all I can really say is that I am grateful. I am overwhelmed with gratitude. And that is an overarching theme of the whole of the last two years in my life, and consequently the overarching theme of this series of posts. Hopefully you’ll put up with my word vomit while I recount them.

Eabha.

https://open.spotify.com/album/2B87zXm9bOWvAJdkJBTpzF?si=x5-G38qOSvu0BkS1W-J-2w

[eabhaalynn]

So you want to be a doctor...

Congratulations on even thinking about this career path! It is undoubtedly a noble one, and one which will be very rewarding. You probably love science, you probably already work super hard at school, and you’ve probably got your own personal motivation that I will never properly understand. All of these are admirable, and I know I was in your position not too long ago.

Over the next few years, and probably over the last number of years, you will have some life experiences that will be truly incredible. These experiences will be inextricably linked to your career choice, and you should be so grateful to have them. My own volunteering in my community, with the FRIENDS group, is probably the most formative experience of my life. It is definitely what inspired me most to be a doctor, and I miss it to this day. More recently, I have got to see incredible doctors at work, both in the UK and US. They are such incredible communicators, saving and changing lives every single day – I am overwhelmed with gratitude and I don’t doubt that these experiences will change your life for the better.

But today, we have to be realistic, so here is the rest of what the last three (give or take) years have taught me about trying to be a doctor…

You almost certainly can do it.

I did my GCSEs at a school where not many people do medicine, and the ones who do are the ‘geniuses’ who don’t know what anything short of an A* looks like. You should all know that I am not one of these geniuses, at all. In fact, I barely remember what an A* looks like. So, as you may expect, when I announced my career plans to my fifth-year careers teacher, she told me that I ‘wasn’t academic enough’ for medicine and would never get to the interview stage of the process, so I’d be better off trying something else. My predicted GCSE grades were fairly unremarkable; 2A* 6A 2B. However, I am far too stubborn to listen to any career’s teacher, so I did try. I tried far too hard and did unexpectedly well at GCSE. Two years on, I am in a fairly similar academic dilemma; but this time I have a firmly accepted offer to study medicine. It’s all about progress. So, what I’m really trying to say is that if I can get a medicine offer, you can too. And please don’t listen to careers advisors who try to tell you otherwise.

Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should.

It’s almost exam season, and you’re going to work so hard and do so well, whatever stage you’re at. After exam time is summer time, and that’s when you’ll have time to have a really good think about what you’re getting yourself into, and why. (I know and fully understand I am only an upper 6thand have no right to talk about medicine as a degree or career – just the application).

Using my own personal experiences, here is what the application process was like for me…

SCHOOLS

Yes, this is a bizarre one. But essentially, I changed schools for medicine. I was THAT committed to the cause. And I promise the application process will still leave you feeling like you want to study anything but medicine.

Personally, I wasn’t too torn up about leaving, but it can be a really big deal. Certain courses require certain A Levels – and for the courses I wanted to apply to I really couldn’t have stayed. This isn’t make-or-break stuff, but it’s not something I gave much thought to until it was almost too late.

GCSEs

These are important exams. Most medical schools will either rank them standalone or on a point system before they interview you. You should definitely study. These are also probably the last exams you’ll sit at school where your hard work is almost guaranteed to pay off – so you’re better off putting in the work now. Better GCSEs would have made my sixth form experience infinitely easier, and worse ones could have made it far more difficult. They are not, however, an ultimatum. They do not define you or your ability to be a doctor.

VOLUNTEERING AND WORK EXPERIENCE

If you’re volunteering to get into medicine you’re doing it wrong. But volunteering for the good of your community and for the good of others, even for the sheer experience of it, is probably one of the greatest things you can ever do. Start as early as you can, and put in all the hours you can, while you can. Some experiences won’t be brilliant, but they’ll be worth it (and some medical schools need it.)

As I mentioned earlier, work experience is incredible, but it can be difficult to organise. Start contacting doctors and healthcare professionals you know as soon as you can. They were very accommodating to me – they’ve all been where we are. It can also be quite consuming, while my friends were making big money in retail, or with their talents (sailing and music namely) I was making tea in hospitals, unpaid. Again, this isn’t a big deal at all, it’s just not something I would ever have considered.

OPEN DAYS

Medicine isn’t the kind of vocation that you can decide to just stay at home to study. You need to accept that if you live in Northern Ireland, ¾ of your choices will not be in Northern Ireland. I am a wee bit apprehensive and so I spent a great deal of my sixth form experience travelling up and down the country, visiting all sorts of medical schools I was thinking about applying to. This has clear financial implications, and I completely understand that it is not accessible for everyone. It’s definitely not a necessity, but its something I’m really glad I did.

Not all medicine courses are the same, not all cities are the same. You’ll be spending five or six years of your life at these Universities, so you’re better to do your research on them rather than wasting a space on your application.

AS LEVELS

Lower Sixth was the hardest year of my school career. I was in a new school (which I love), studying new subjects (which I love), and yet I was really struggling. All of the medical schools I was applying to specified 4 AS levels in their entry requirements – so it was never going to be a fun year. Looking back, I don’t know how I did it. It was far more to handle than upper sixth has been. Study subjects you love, and just accept now that you will quickly stop loving them – especially chemistry. Try to balance a personal life too, because that only gets more difficult with time. In Lower Sixth, I was in a relationship, kept up my volunteering, and even had a job until Christmas. Your academic attainment will probably not be what it was previously, but that’s okay, it will come in time. Surround yourself with all the support you can, get a library membership and use it. Buy textbooks and get a tutor if you need to – again I know this has its financial implications. And please know that you will survive the year.

UKCAT

This is where the shit really hit the fan for me. It will make your A levels look like P5 English. My school were fairly supportive, and even then, I was still left largely to my own devices. I sat mine fairly early, and I’m so glad I did, because it really does have the potential to ruin your summer. Allow a solid three weeks to cram, there are brilliant resources online, and some books available. Again, if your financial situation allows, there is an amazing course that Kaplan run every weekend through the summer and it boosted my score significantly.

There is also the BMAT that certain universities require, I didn’t sit this myself but it’s supposed to be more academic based than the UKCAT. It’s also sat on a single date in October, by which stage you have already applied, and know your UKCAT score and how it sits compared with the average. I wasn’t willing to take the risk and didn’t like the uncertainty, but it is entirely personal choice.

PERSONAL STATEMENT

Do yourself a favour and write this in June. I am a firm believer that lower sixth exams finish early for a 4000-character long reason. I am one of the lucky ones and wrote my personal statement in one draft. There aren’t many people in my position, and I am well aware of how many people were so fed up and drained by this following AS Levels. But it’s so much easier to handle then than it ever could be in September. It’s also not nearly as long as you think it’s going to be – and that just makes everything harder.

UCAS

I sent away my UCAS application on Monday, 10thSeptember 2018. By that Thursday, I had received my first offer to study Genetics at Glasgow. Without meaning to sound arrogant, I could probably have got five non-medicine offers back within the week. But applying to medicine was a completely different ball game. My final ‘UCAS Application Status Notification’ email came on Wednesday 3rdApril 2019. Just a week short of seven months later. It was a rejection from a medical school. My third rejection.

Those UCAS emails give you the sort of fear that isn’t really comparable to anything else. The feeling of being rejected from a University who has met you, spoken to you, and marked your personality as unworthy, seems very personal. It does hurt, but no more than any fall out or heartbreak would. It just hurts differently because it’s a whole institution that has rejected you. This isn’t pleasant, but it is a reality for the majority of applicants and offer holders. So, if it does happen to you, just know you’re not alone.

INTERVIEW

I was very naïve going into the interview stage. Of my four choices, I had three interviews, within three consecutive weeks. I have one offer. Two of the interview processes were friendly, and they were manageable. The third was a truly awful experience. Thus, I think it’s fair to say that the interview process is variable. All of my interviews were in January, right in the rush of A Level work, I even had my attendance reported because of them. MMIs themselves can be fun, especially with relatively supportive examiners. But there is so much preparation required for a medicine MMI and the reality is that you can place in the top 20% of one University and the bottom 20% of another with very similar interviews. They take their toll on you, and are physically exhausted, between travelling, early mornings and the workload of the preparation. It is also, I believe, fair to say, that it can be quite emotionally destructive to have your personality scored and analysed in such a manner.

A LEVELS

Only when applying to medicine do a-levels feel like an after-thought. At this stage, I feel like I have been put through the ringer by this application, and to even get an offer has been more than I ever thought I was capable of. But you do need the 3As, in some of the hardest subjects and exams that boards can write. Its easy enough to forget that, but it is an immense amount of pressure, and it is still my present.

So you want to be a doctor…

I am so grateful to have got this far with my medicine application, and I do genuinely hope I get to study it in September.

There is so little accessible information regarding the details of the process and how to approach it without losing your head over it. I don’t think anyone has cracked it yet, and if they have I wish they’d write a post about it instead of this one.

Ultimately, you have to take care of yourself first. It’s what your doctor would tell you to do. You are more important than any and every stage of this process, and your own mental and physical health should come before every career choice you make. I hope to see you on the ward someday! But even more than that, I hope you get to be everything you aspire to be, whether you decide medicine is for you or not.