And So The Healing Begins

Heyy, 

So last Tuesday was my birthday and whilst I did not mention this in last week's blog post, I thought that I would mention it now! Happy Birthday to me! It is always awkward when you have a birthday in the middle of the week. Everyone is working or have other commitments and dinner out was an expensive luxury to do twice. Instead I settled for my Birthday Eve when Mr. Warehouse and Miss Tweedle-Dee joined me to indulge in my favourite thing eating out and sushi. And although my best friend and boyfriend were not fully enjoying themselves - Miss Tweedle-Dee felt poorly and Mr. Warehouse was still unsure on the concept of raw fish - But I certainly wasn't and gorged on many dishes of salmon and sticky rice. 

Afterwards Mr. Warehouse, Miss Tweedle-Dee and I took an after dinner stroll and I was giving my birthday present from my bestie. Opening the different envelope they all contained information about a wonderful idea and something that was just otherworldly. With the run-up to Halloween coming quickly I am so excited for Autumn and Spookies to come, so with all of this in mind Miss Tweedle-Dee paid for us to both encounter the paranormal inside one of Britain's Most Haunted prisons - HMP Gloucester. 

The website states that HMP Gloucester has a long and chilling history with many of the executed criminals remain buried in the grounds of the prison. Some of the most infamous serial killers have been incarcerated within the walls of Gloucester Prison. The prison formally closed on 31 March 2013 but the suffering and torment is deeply etched within the fabric of this foreboding location. Originally built as the County Gaol in 1700s at a cost of £34,000 with a capacity of 350 prisoners each in separate cells, there were also separate cells for debtors of both sexes.Between 1792 and 1864 at least 102 executions took place using the considered more humane 'New Drop' style gallows with many of the executed being buried in unmarked graves where they still remain today. Join the team as we spend the night at the terrifying HMP Gloucester with the tormented souls that remain.

Miss Tweedle-Dee and I will start our overnight ghost hunt at HMP Gloucester in the afternoon of Saturday 20th October 2018 when my Besitie and I will drive, in her new car, down to Gloucestershire and check into the hotel to try and get some rest. Our experience will start at 9pm that night and will be sure to really test our nerve. An experience that we are sure will not forget and with suffering torment and death deeply etched into the very fabric of this imposing prison we may meet more than just the guide. Gloucester Prison was home to the notorious serial killer Fred West so during the night we might be in contact with him and all those who remain as Miss Tweedle-Dee and I join in carrying out seances, vigils and experiments in the most active areas of the imposing location. At 3am all is well as Miss Tweedle-Dee and I will return to the hotel, hopefully not possessed or contaminated by demonic spirits to sleep and the following day maybe some nice relaxing shopping ... Or maybe a trip to Church?!

One present that I did not expect to receive was an email in my inbox from a charitable organisation in the heart of Bedford called the Amicus Trust. In the email they detailed about how I had reached out to someone that could help me with my mental state and said that they were able to give me counselling sessions in order to work through my problems as quickly as possible so that life can get back on track. I am still on my medication but I  now feel quite pressured from loved ones to get things sorted and frankly it is becoming a little too much to bear. I know that people mean well and that in reality I am of the knowledge that I need to sort out these issues but first and foremost, I need to sort myself out.Trust me when I say that it is simply a long story that I may share with you another time.

Leaving the house with plenty of time on Friday morning just in case parking was a bitch, I was anxious as I always am at my first meeting with my current therapist. I found a parking space straight away and with that proceeded to scroll through my social media pages whilst I waited for an appropriate time when I would be able to walk through the doors without being too early. Locking my car and walking past many of the unscrupulous faces I saw on that Friday morning I realised that the the exact location of my therapy Sessions were actually in the heart of Bedford and area which is renowned for its poor reputation and well known for being a bad side of town. But with this in mind I thought that there would be no better place to have a charity or organisation such as the Amicus Trust.

Meeting the gentleman that I had been emailing for the last fortnight or so was interesting to say the least. He was extremely friendly and easy to get to know. Immediately I was relaxed and at ease with his company He offered me a cup of coffee which was nice as it was the morning and I have not eaten yet but it also helped in breaking the ice in what would otherwise be a rather emotionally fuelled situation. Sitting down at a large wooden table, the room was dimly lit and despite the large window next to the table being hidden by the blinds I could still hear the busy street outside. My Therapist was an larger framed gentleman maybe in his late fifties with long salt and pepper curly hair tied back in a ponytail. He wore a dusky purple corduroy shirt straight out of the 70s or 80s and with the skin tags littering his eyes and wrinkly face I knew that I can trust him. 

And so we began unravelling my tale. It is a complex and complicated one and something in which we only got to the bottom of this evening, however after the last two sessions I can safely say that things can be fixed and everything can be resolved one way or another. There are certainly a lot of issues that we need to work through and get to the bottom of but he assures me that it can all be mended. Its funny, walking out of my therapy session tonight has made me feel more positive and hopeful than I think I have felt in the last few months about my mental health and I am sure that I will work through it to get back to me again. It will be long and hard and difficult, but I'm ready!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Forgetting and Falling!

Evening All, 

With the last few weeks and maybe a month or so looking and feeling brighter, I feel as though I have been lured into a false sense of security with my medication. Today and even maybe over the weekend where I stayed with Miss Tweedle-Dee whilst she house / puppy sat for her brother, I haven't been feeling sadder than usual and in a generally low mood. Several times today during what was a trying day at work (probably made worse by my lack of concentration and focus), I had noticed that I was on the brink of tears and to think that I had only missed two days worth of tablets. I could definitely tell that my focus and concentration had shifted at my desk not to anything in particular but just simply off the task in hand. I know I need to block everything out as best I can and try harder with what matters. Previously I had tried to muddle through the cloudiness, not to not succumbing to the need for medication in order to treat my mental health issues but truth be told is that I still need them as much today as I did weeks ago. 

This evening I also had a doctor's appointment in order to discuss my ongoing medication and going forward with my diagnosis. Whilst the medicine I am on made me feel queasy and nauseous in the beginning, that has now subsided and I am now left feeling quite positive and happy in myself and my life generally. Well that was until I forgot to take my meds yesterday and today. I didn't plan to it was just a simple fact of forgetting to take them and being outside of a normal routine. 

I spoke with the doctor and she confirmed that it would not be wise to stop medication and advised that in most circumstances medication is taken for a minimum of six-months, however with everything still quite unstable in my life in terms of my housing situation as well as my issues with family members, by the time the six-month anniversary comes around in October I probably will not be cured. I know that this is something I need to continue in order to build up it's effect, regardless of how I feel much better. I know that coupled with counselling and therapy I will get better it will just maybe take a little bit longer. Speaking of which, the doctor had advised to continue also with counselling sessions and therapy as it had temporarily been put on hold as I had finished my previous sessions and now awaiting a appointment where I can be seen through the NHS. 

After months of being in a bit of a whirlwind of emotions and life events, I am hoping that it is coming to an end, although I know deep down it is not. With Mr and Mrs Tweedle-Dee's big move to America coming soon in the first week of September and hopefully our house move before then I can only imagine that things will probably get worse not better. I know that this is a happy time where we should be excited about finally getting a home of our own and looking forward to putting our own stamp on the place. With the house seemingly moving along nicely and with the solicitors now finishing up their searches and the surveyor from the Mortgage Lender going in today,, I am feeling more positive than ever. There is no move date as yet so don't grab your red cups and vodka for the house party just yet. Following the survey on the house today to make sure that the house is worth the amount of money we are borrowing against it, hopefully we should hear back in the next couple of days with our mortgage offer and fingers crossed a date for our completion and exchange. I am almost certain after talking to different people at work and through other groups of friends that the process will speed along and hopefully still be set to move in before Mr and Mrs Tweedle-Dee depart. 

Whilst I am looking forward to sending my best friend off to a whole new world and life in sunny L.A, but sometimes I just feel sad about it all. I think it finally hit me (again) this weekend that I be loosing an incredible friendship with Mrs Tweedle-Dumb and whilst I have some amazing people around me, in particular Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Hackney and Miss SugarCoat nothing will ever replace my first ever best friend. I feel ashamed and selfish when I think about Mrs Tweedle-Dumb moving away with her new hubby, partly because I know the fun that we will all have trying to Skype and FaceTime each other (and not to forget the incredible holibobs), but more so because I would not have given a flying fuck about who was left behind or what they were feeling - I would have been long gone! And I want her to do the same because we will be OK back here because sitting on the reclining sofa across from Miss Tweedle-Dee she and I both knew how hard it might be but that despite it all our friendship would be OK. She knows better than anyone I think that sometimes its not even saying anything at all its just sitting and being there to be extra company other than your own thoughts. Sometimes that is just enough. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Friends Are Medicine for the Soul!

Hello everyone, 

Following last weeks rather abrupt and a matter of fact way of saying that I am now accepted that maybe medication for my depression is just what I need right now, I am glad to say that I have probably had one of the best weeks so far in my treatment. The funny thing really is that nothing major has really happened to improved my mood apart from my medication. With this in mind, I have questioned as to whether I am suffering a placebo effect from just simply popping some pills. 

Opening last week's blog may have been quite blunt and to the point, but I must stress that I do not take decisions like these lightly and I have tried to muddle through for the weeks of cloudiness have now turned into months. I have tried not to not succumb to the need for medication in order to treat my mental health issues but truth be told is that I needed a fairly fast result in improving my mood and therefore my performance, both at and away from my desk. I know I need therapy and counselling, but I also need to block everything out as best i can and focus on my job as this is what matters and what holds the key to my future. This time the stakes are higher. There is so much more to lose. My job. My lifestyle. Even my dream home are all on the line. I cannot mess this up. Whilst the medication I am on make me feel quite queasy and nauseous most of the time, I just need to take the edge off and make everything a little less sharper. so I can concentrate more and focus.

With the doctor practically signing me away with them so easily last week or so, all with not so much as a confirmation of my mental state, I am glad to be feeling a little bit more back to normal. This is not to say that I can stop taking them as the effects are something that are to be built up overtime and whilst for the super long term I hope not to be on them I know I need them right now just to simply get by and block everything else out so I can focus on what I need to. Counselling has been getting better and a lengthy conversation about how I feel and how I have become to feel this way ensued this week with some ideas about how I can tackle or deal with the issues that I have at present. 

I know people are probably silently judging me or maybe they already have questioned how I can be so happy and jolly when I have depression, however I would first ask them to never judge a book by its cover as you never know what someone is going through or how deep their problems lie. Whilst most of the people around me have been wonderfully supportive I feel like somehow breaking your leg and clearly having it in plaster makes it easier for people to talk about a illness or being sick, but with disorders such as anxiety, depression and other mentally debilitating conditions it is not so easy. 

I learnt this weekend that I have some amazing people around me, in particular Miss Tweedle-Dee. Sitting in her garden, hot as hell and struggling with the ridiculous thirty-something degree heat wave we in the UK have been getting I realised I had someone very special to me. She in particular know that sometimes its not even saying anything at all its just sitting and being there to be extra company other than your own thoughts. And sometimes that is just enough. That is all you need. Someone so gentle as to pat me on the leg with a sympathetic look that tells me she knows exactly what I am going through and that it really will be OK in the end. Someone to give me a big cuddle and make everything not seem so awful. She is the best! 

Combined with the firecracker that is Miss Tweedle-Dumb I think we have an unstoppable friendship that has lasted years and will carry on through the decades and even across the pond. Obviously my heart will break when Miss and Mr Tweedle-Dumb leave for America but I know they will be alright and we can always visit, eat Twinkies (God I hate Twinkies), go shopping at Target and walk along the beaches of LA. And everything will be OK because it always is when you have friends like them. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Uppers and Downers!

Hey Hey, 

I thought that my week would never end. I'm trying to remember the last time that I had a week like that and truth be told I am glad that it is over. Stressed up to my eyeballs I was trying to juggle everything from buying a new home, work and attempting not to have a mental breakdown. Unfortunately, as with most things at the moment I fail in every direction. I think that I have really struggled this week both emotionally and physically with some of the challenges I have faced and all of that is certainly not easy when you are trying to battle depression to get back to the person you once was. 

Therapy this week was interesting to say the least and there was certainly a little bit more back and forth with my counsellor. Whilst my place of work have been amazing I acknowledge that it may be some time before I am right as rain again. I know that I have good days and bad days, however those of you that have suffered mental illness such as anxiety or depression will know just how well we are in "faking it til we make it" or just papering over cracks. I am sure that my therapy sessions will get worse in terms of me exploring more about why I feel like I do but I am willing to try anything right now. I know that I just need to focus and concentrate hard on what matters and soon everything will fall into place and get better. 

Although saying that, I have yet to tell my Landlord that my beautiful little flat, with its kitchen floor is beautifully covered in light grey wood effect vinyl, as is our newly lilac painted, white tiled bathroom is soon to be no longer called home for me and Mr Warehouse. After receiving a Mortgage In Principle / MIP a couple of weeks ago and reserving a property off plan last week the ball was certainly on a roll. With everything being so quick it wasn't long before we had our Approval In Principle / AIP. This is pretty much our next step in owning our own home and in basic terms means that the lender is accepting of our circumstances and will lend us the money for our home. 

The next stressful thing in the long chain of events before we move in is to instruct a solicitor. The problem is that everyone is quoting something different. I have admittedly gone overboard in terms of asking every man and his dog for a quote. After going down the road of emailing every single person and company that could possibly give us a quote, I sifted through the sixty or seventy quotes in my email inbox and whittled it down to about ten. But weeding through them again and again I soon noticed that there were charges for things that I would have expected to be included, one of which being charged upwards of £30 just to transfer money from my bank account into their bank account and back out again. Some of the quotes were fairly reasonable however some ranged even into the couple of thousands and beyond. A ridiculous amount when you think about the effort that they actually put in, copying and pasting your name and other details onto an already drafted letter or email. All a solicitor is there to do basically to check that you have completed all your paperwork correctly. As if I don't hate scrutiny combined with constructive and corrective criticism enough, now I have the joyous task of having to pay for it. 

To be fair I think we have found a solicitor in the local area that will not rip us off or charges for every phone call, email, text or letter. Hopefully with our Approval In Principle / AIP ticking along nicely and with our estate agents working it hard to get together a pack for the housing association it wont be long before we have got our keys! Still makes me anxious to know that essentially we have bought semi-off-plan. As explained last week, this means that we are going to be the first people to ever live in this house. On the one hand I like the idea of being the first people within a new home, however I have always falling in love with a property or building for the fact of its history including the people that lived in it and the what the walls could say about them. All the arguments, laughter and silly moments that are captured within the shear structure of a building add to its appeal for me. I know for a fact that Mr Warehouse thinks this is all a load of Tosh. I am sure that it will not take long for Mr Warehouse and I to fill our new home with laughter and happiness ... Fingers crossed at least!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Building The Yellow Brick Road!

Hello Everybody, 

Isn't it always sods law or otherwise known as Murphy's Law when you have organised and have everything in order ready to go only to find out that actually it was pretty pointless. Well that seems to be the story of my life at the moment. And so as the work starts to get under way in the flat, the kitchen floor is beautifully covered in light grey wood effect vinyl, as is our newly lilac painted, white tiled bathroom. The bare minimum has been done with what was originally discussed and needed doing, and to be fair there is quite a bit left to do in terms of bringing the flat up to standard. Although this may all be completely unnecessary waste of time for mine and Mr Warehouse's benefit. 

As I spoke of last week, maybe with the constant reminder of how crappy our situation is in terms of not having the capacity to just do it ourselves and get it fixed or how we want it without having the worry of workmen coming in and out as they please may worked its magic. After receiving a Mortgage In Principle / MIP last week and with it now in hand I looked no further and immediately spent the rest of my lunch break calling up estate agents and housing associations looking for any properties that might be within our budget. Mr Warehouse and I have seen a couple of properties and as frustrating as it was to let go of some beautiful homes, we knew that we would find something eventually. After a couple of phone calls with a local estate agent I was, along with Mr Warehouse, invited into their offices for a chat. In the hour long conversation and chit chat that we had with the estate agent he gave us the confidence that maybe we could get our home one day. 

I think the only downside that there is at the moment is the fact that we are buying a property off plan. This means that we are going to be the first people to ever live in this house. On entering I know that it will be cold and clinical however it will not take long for us to fill it with love, laughter and warmth. On the one hand I like the idea of being the first people within a new home, however I have always falling in love with a property or building for the fact of its history including the people that lived in it and the what the walls could say about them. All the arguments, laughter and silly moments that are captured within the shear structure of a building add to its appeal for me. I know for a fact that Mr Warehouse thinks this is all a load of Tosh. 

Now it has not been fully confirmed yet that we can buy as our mortgage adviser is in contact with the estate agent to discuss the finer details, but one thing is for certain and that is that there appears to be a silver lining to be otherwise cloud that hangs over me. Over the last couple of weeks I have felt slightly more sunnier and I am solely holding the housing situation as fully responsible for making me smile more. I am certainly not back to the happy-go-lucky laughing and joking self, but in time I know I can be. Getting a Mortgage In Principle is a big deal in itself and I know that given this good news it can hopefully only get better. 

Whilst it certainly won't make up for some of the other issues that I have going on in my life at the moment I really think and hope that my counselling sessions starting this week will make me feel all the more better. My place of work has been amazing and I cannot thank them enough for the effort and support they have given me. I had attempted to go through the normal avenues of the my GP and the NHS but I am still awaiting on a doctor's appointment to confirm my mental health instability and what I basically already know as a mild depression. I suppose that it must be difficult for those of you reading that know me quite well. Mental illness is something that I have always prided myself on hiding and trying my best to mask over, although it would appear on this occasion I have not been doing so well hiding it. I know that I have good days and bad days, however those of you that have suffered mental illness such as anxiety or depression will know just how well we are in "faking it til we make it" or just papering over the awkward questions about how I'm feeling or how things are going. We're quite good liars I'll have you know. 

I really think that therapy will help me as it did last time. I just need to focus and concentrate hard on me and not others, taking everything just one step at a time so I can learn how to deal with certain things, life events and more--so the people around me. With my mood cloudy and stormy of late and certainly not feeling myself at all, the good news that I have been striving hard for may have potentially paid off. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Size Does Matter!

Hello one and all, 

Standing in front of my wardrobe I looked back at myself. I was fat. I mean saying this now sounds like nothing new to me, I have always been a larger lady, even in my teens and during my school years I was always bigger than other girls, but as I graduated High School and things in my life started to take a downward turn my diet was one of the last things on my mind. Living with my Uncle and Auntie for a while was easy, as was living with my dad and even Mr. Workaholic and his Dad. Everything pretty much was cooked and dished out to me, all I had to do was eat it. I would walk most if not everywhere and totted up a good few miles everyday by simply getting to and from work, college and socialising. 

But when I moved up to Northampton in order to start my new life with Mr. Workaholic I ballooned to my biggest weight so far. At over nineteen stone and a size twenty/twenty-two I was far from happy, at least in my body. Living off of beige food groups and turkey dinosaurs was not ideal either and since Mr. Workaholic refused to eat any sort of vegetable and saw bananas as the only fruit he would stomach (What a surprise that they were also beige in colour) it was very difficult to cook for someone so fussy. Towards the end of my relationship with Mr. Workaholic's things started to get mean and nasty and I suppose if I was really honest it would have been not that long after we moved to Northampton. The name calling and lack of compliments drove me from being a confident and cocky tween to a shy and anxious girl, always worried about her weight and that one day her boyfriend would feel repulsed enough by her that he would leave. And one day he did. I mean granted he didn't leave on the basis that I was larger than when we first met but I could tell that he had not felt attracted to me in sometime, or at least that is how it felt. 

Separating from Mr. Workaholic was hellish and a time that I can rarely recall anything happening at all, but I do remember my weekly meetings at WeightWatchers and how shocked the lady was when I made yet another big loss on the scales. When I was asked what my secret was or how I had lost all the weight I joked with my fellow fat fighters that in a dark way when the love of your life just up's and leaves you with no real reason or explanation, leaving behind just a whole lot of heartache and mess to clear up it soon puts you off food. And just as I started consuming more than caffeine and water on a daily basis I was hit with another bomb shell. Mr. Workaholic was seeing someone else, and it had been less than a fortnight. Not only that but whilst I was recovering from shock in Southern Ireland with my Aunt and Uncle, Mr. Workaholic was swanning round Newcastle, jumping from bed to bed I heard. 

After my weight plummeted to nearly what I was before I met Mr. Workaholic, I started feeling better about myself. I had new love interests, a new outlook on life and I was twenty-one. The perfect mix of young and throwaway yet knowing what I was doing. The next few years I fluctuated but always stayed around the fifteen stone mark, always being able to comfortably fit into a size fourteen/sixteen. But as the years went by and I finally got my very own flat in Bedford I got into bad habits and poor diet choices, although still walking most places I would always keep the belly off a little. 

Since meeting Mr. Warehouse though and especially over the last year since we moved in together I have only felt and seen my size increase. I can now only dream of fitting into a size eighteen let alone a size fourteen or sixteen. I am now so unhappy with my weight that I honestly need to start doing something about it. My clothes don't fit properly and I have a wardrobe full of lovely jumpers, jeans and tops that I just look like a sack of potatoes in. My arms are too fat and my belly is protruding more than my tits at present. Although I joke about it with friends and family, it starts to become a real concern when the arms of your office chair start to get tighter and tighter. 

So after I get paid on Wednesday (Thank fuck, it seems like an age since I last got paid) I will be hitting the classes hard. Sod Gyms and their expensive memberships, I am going to start getting into classes and swimming. FitSteps, Zumba, Clubbercise and Aquarobics; I'm trying them all! Healthy eating too, I have started thinking even before I go shopping now what sort of food will be better for me and for my darling Mr. Warehouse. More Veg, more moving and less beige. Before I know it I will be looking better than I ever have before and feel much more happier that I don't have to shop only in the plus size range. Besides, I can't be looking like a blob on the beach with Mr. Warehouse in August can I ... ?

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Suck It Samsung!

'Ello 'Ello, 

So after constant phone calls to Samsung Head Office's every day of the last fortnight pretty much, it would seem we have some progress. You see a while back I wrote about my first few days being on holiday in Lanzarote with Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb entitled "The Chinese Man Stole My Change & Other Tales of Brits Abroad!" In it I described what was to be the beginning of nearly four months worth of issues with my mobile-phone maker - Samsung. 

Issues with my phone started on the Monday in late June, just days before I flew out to Lanzarote, and after completing a very simple system/software update on my beloved Samsung Galaxy Note4, upgrading the operating system from Android Lollipop to Android Marshmallow it decided to knock out all my contacts leaving me unable to access my address book, call log, or even my key pad to call 999 for emergencies. As worryingly frustrating as this is I also lost all my contact names so if I was able to make any texts, which was difficult as the system would just crash after a few seconds of being in my messages, I couldn't know for sure who I was texting as my names-to-numbers had been lost. Annoyingly after several calls to Samsung, over ten-hours (the night before my holiday was due to begin) in total backing up all my phones data, one factory reset and an unsuccessful restore of data my phone was still broken. 

Sitting at work on the morning of my half-day holiday, I was less than six-hours from boarding the plane and yet my phone was still not fixed. Explaining in full to Samsung my issues and the fact I had attempted to back my data up on my phones unsuccessfully the night before the gentleman helped me through yet another factory reset and a half restore of my phone's data. Unable to complete the restore I was told someone would have to remote onto my phone the following day and that it would be OK to do even if overseas as all I would need was a strong internet connection my end and a strong internet connection back here in the UK call centre. Needing nothing more I left work and headed to the station with my half-fixed phone, boarded my plane and begin to try and relax on a well earned holiday with my Tweedles. 

The following day Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I headed to the beach to feel the sand between our toes on our first full day in the beating sunshine. It wasn't long before I had a phone call although due to my phones problems I was unable to answer it so hoped and prayed someone would try calling back later, which, a few hours later they did. Speaking to the gentleman that called he asked me to open my Laptop. I explained that I did not have it with me as I was out for the day and was told I did not need to be near it for the remote session with an engineer to commence. This was apparently incorrect information and as such I would need to be near my Laptop in order to perform the data restore to my Samsung Galaxy Note4. Explaining that the following day would be a pool day at the hotel and I could be near my Laptop most the afternoon if needs be I was promised a phone call back the following afternoon, but as I am sure you can expect, no phone call came. 


Continuing my holiday as normal as I could with limited access to my phone, I struggled to relax and enjoy myself. Attempting to take photos, videos, send messages back home or even use the calculator to split the bill for dinner was an increasely hard uphill struggle. By our last night on the Spanish island, not only was my phone shutting down, restart and freeze automatically on its own, but it also was conducting a full factory reset without authorisation which, in turn, deleted everything including all my music, contacts, Apps and holiday photos. Everything. Gone. 

Getting home in the very small hours of the following Friday I had a driving lesson and sat for a further two hours on the phone to Samsung in an attempt to get it resolved. Due to the fact that my phone was now shutting down, restart and freeze automatically on its own with no prior warning I was told I would need to bring it into the
Samsung store in Milton Keynes. So, scrapping all prior plans I had with Mr. Warehouse and others, my other half and I headed over to Milton Keynes bright and early on Saturday morning to get some results. After all I was told during my hundred-and-twenty-minute phone call that if they could not fix it in store then they would send it away externally for fixing and I would be able to make use of a replacement phone which was already waiting for me in the Samsung store. Although on arrival into store this was far from the case and after attempting their own repairs for the phone it was clear it would need to be sent away. 

"So how do I go about getting this replacement phone then to see me through until mine comes back then?" I asked. 
"I am not sure what you are on about Miss? We sometimes have devices we can allow customers to use whilst their's is in for repair but we dont have any in stock at the moment, Sorry." The kindly sales person said. Enraged I blathered on about what I was now meant to do and after travelling to Milton Keynes and wasting my entire day I was certainly far from a happy customer. Blowing up I poured out about the issues I had constantly had with Samsung and their frankly shockingly poor levels of customer service. I left the store that day unhappy and unable to 'simply go and buy a replacement phone' as the patronising sales person had told me to do. Upset I channelled it through on Monday morning as I penned a five page letter explaining all the issues and problems I had encountered. 

A few weeks later I received a snotty and frankly rude reply explaining that regardless of my medical situation of the time and needing a phone to contact doctors or hospitals should I need their services I would not be able to get a replacement device as promised by the previous call handler. I was pissed. Calling the number on the bottom of the letter I spoke with Mr. Samsung who was dealing with my case since the person who had originally wrote to me was since sunning her own self on a holiday of her own. Promising to help me he arranged for me to go into the Samsung store in Milton Keynes and collect a replacement device to use whilst mine was in for repair, although this was after some weeks of fighting for it and explaining many different times that it was important I had a phone to make contact with people should I become severely ill. 

Smoothly I went into the Samsung store in Milton Keynes and handed in my phone at the beginning of August. A week later I called for an update, since I had not had one from Mr. Samsung at Head Office. I was told by the store girl that my phone was sent away as promised although they were unable to fix it so were sending a replacement back in the form of either a new or refurbished Samsung Galaxy Note4. Another week passed and so after two-and-a-half weeks of it being with Samsung I decided to call again for another update. Only this time no-one answered the phone. Ringing and ringing and ringingand ringingand ringing. Six hours in total I spent trying to contact the Samsung store in Milton Keynes. No answer. So I got on the blower to Mr. Samsung at Head Office again and ripped him a nice new anus, explaining yet again my troubles with the poxy company who prides itself on being "market leaders" in innovation?!

Day after day after day I wouldMr. Samsung at Head Office call Mr. Samsung at Head Office just to hear what excuse he may have this time for where my phone is and why the Milton Keynes store was not answering their phones. On the brink of giving up and with my phone being in apparent transit for nearly three weeks I was subsequently told that actually it had only been in transit for four days and that an estimated time of arrival back to store would not be possible. 

Last Friday was my last straw and after being constantly pushed from pillar to post, told silly excuses and pointless reasons as to where my phone was and why it was not yet with me I was growing tired. Demanding a satisfactory development by three O'clock I warned that failure to do so would result in me taking it higher be it to the CEO or the Press but I wanted results and I wanted them today. Three O'clock soon loomed over my desk from the clock above it and just as I was about the angry phonecall to my dearest Mr. SamsungSamsung I received an incoming call from an unknown number. Answering the call I heard a familiar voice. It was Mr. SamsungSamsung. He had a soloutionresult for me. For some unknown reason, of which I have still not been told fully, Samsung, along with Carphone Warehouse (whom carried out my repair and who have supposedly still have my phone) would credit my account with £450.00 to buy a brand new phone with. Sceptical at the prospects of buying a like-for-like brand new phone for that price, I obliged and proceeded to spend my Friday night browsing Samsung online, relucant to buy a phone, or anything else for that matter from them ever again. 

The following morning I woke and made the trip yet again to the Samsung store in Milton Keynes. Walking into branch at the crack of opening time I approached one of the sales girls and explained "How she could help". Sure as to be there was not phone that was in the Samsung store under that value which as a result lead to me calling Carphone Warehouse and asking them to transfer the money. I just wanted the money, to cut my losses and leave store with either cash or in the knowledge that the bank transfer was completed. I was denied this although was told I could go to any Carphone Warehouse store and select any phone or accessories to the tune of my "voucher". Five minutes later I am in the Carphone Warehouse store in Milton Keynes and choosing my new phone - A Huawei (pronounced Wah-Way) P9 and I am in love. Although I did need to go to another store over twenty-minutes away from the city centre to collect it. With it being close to closing time, raining and with only two young and fairly unprofessionally mannered store people I wanted to get in an out and home. Successfully spending all of my "credit" on my new phone, in-car charger, spare cable, screen protector, GooglePlay voucher, in-car holster, a starter pack and a set of headphones. 

At present I have had not a single problem with my new  Huawei P9. I love it and am so glad my problems with Samsung are now finally over - Funnily enough I haven't heard from my friend Mr. Samsung?! Wonder why?

 'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx