This Saturday is my 32nd birthday so I thought I would reflect upon the last year.

Firstly, I can't think of anyone who actually enjoys getting older. What makes it slightly worse for me is I barely have any memories of the last two years, so in my head, I am actually turning 30, or 31, as I can't remember my last two birthdays. It certainly doesn't feel like I'm turning 32. I'm turning 30/31, that's my story, and I'm sticking to it!

Not that there are any certain criteria for turning 32; it's not like when you turn 18 and you can legally buy alcohol. There are no major milestones associated with the figure 32. What I do find slightly sad, without trying to sound depressing, is I feel like I have actually lost the last year-and-a-half/two years. Life around me has carried on: my friends are starting families, changing careers and getting promoted whereas I'm celebrating being able to tie my own shoe laces.

As a sports journalist, you can't help comparing yourself to the people you write about; so it is only natural to look at what you have achieved at the same age as sporting stars.

Unfortunately I can't see myself being called up to the England rugby or football team anytime soon, but I don't think it has anything to do with my age!

It seems to be a sign of the times when a professional rugby/football player reaches their 30s, they are considered closer to being put on the scrap heap, or close to the end of their career, but I hope this is not the case with me.

I certainly don't feel close to anywhere near the end of my career as a sports journalist, and I still have plenty left I want to achieve, especially with the Rugby World Cup in this country next year.

I have been in Gloucestershire since 2008, and apart from the last year-and-a-half; I've loved every minute of it, so I certainly have no plans to go anywhere, just yet!

Plus I now have the added bonus of living with my amazing girlfriend Amy here, who is studying for her PGCE, which makes things even better.

I just can't wait to show her living with me is not always this difficult.

As I've mentioned before, she does a heck of a lot for me, which I'm incredibly grateful for, so I can't wait to show her she has bet on the right horse in me, if you pardon the sporting analogy!

As I get older, I can't help looking around at those close to me and admiring all they have achieved. Firstly, some of my closest friends have got married, and bought their own house, so those two things are definitely up there on my "to-do" list, but don't worry I won't be making history by proposing to Amy via a blog, I'm a lot more romantic than that! Although that does sound pretty cool now I mention it, and I'm sure she would love that seeing as she is a big blog fan.

I keep trying to remind myself these last two years have not been lost; they have just not turned out the way I planned. I can still achieve all those things, it just won't be tomorrow, and in all likelihood it won't be easy, but I'm not sure it ever is. If I have learned one thing through all of this, it is I know every birthday is precious, everyday must be cherished because life is..... unpredictable.

Anyway I already have the best birthday present in my health, and Amy!

A few weeks ago, I was set to write about my left hand's progress, but my grandad passed away, so I did one about him, because it is more important.

The bleed occurred on the right side of my brain, which controls the left side of my body, so this has been one of the worst affected areas.

I'm constantly making lists in my phone's "notes" section, so I thought I would share the tasks I've written down, which are difficult. I had to write them down otherwise I forget them, as my powers of recall are poor.

What is difficult is it is many little things, which on their own, don't sound like much but in my day-to-day life can sometimes feel a little overwhelming.

One of the main annoyances is getting dressed. If I am ever left to do this by myself I end up walking out the door with my buttons done up wrong, my jumper on backwards and shoes untied. I can't tuck clothes in on my left side; so I always get cold there, which might not sound like the worst thing, but when your brain cannot control temperature, it feels twice as cold. The worst thing, however, is socks, man I hate socks! Putting socks on with one hand is so frustrating! 

Before I go any further, I must, again, mention Amy, who helps me solve the issues I'm mentioning. She has been incredible; I could not have asked for a better girlfriend in such a tough time; as I've said before; this is the hardest thing I've ever experienced, but I'm lucky to go through it with the best thing to ever happen to me.

Right, enough soppy stuff because her head will swell.

I struggle to open, or pull doors and drawers with my left hand. I'm forever struggling to push, pull or hold open doors. If you are ever behind me, please don't judge me if I struggle to open, or hold open, a door for you. A lot worse if I am carrying anything.

These issues may not sound too bad, but, to me, they are a constant reminder of something I cannot do, which I used to be able to do without thinking about. So appreciation of my left side, and life in general, has increased.

When going up or downstairs, to improve my left hand, I try not to use, touch, or need any rails. I'm also convinced it will tighten my stomach muscles, and therefore, get me the washboard stomach I've been chasing all my life.

I have not been able to type properly with my left hand; this is a big goal, to get back to normal fast typing speed with both hands. 

I can't wash up, to Amy's annoyance; as holding, wiping, brushing or cleaning with my left hand is difficult. This is not so bad for me though. 

I haven't managed ironing, so Amy must do it, unfortunately, as she has enough on her plate. You may have noticed; she does an incredible amount for me.

Opening anything, like jars or drinks is difficult, so I tuck it under my armpit and undo it with my right hand. This may have seemed like a negative moan, but it isn't. Like holding jars under my armpit to open; it's a realisation of more creative ways around a problem.

I hope this filters through into other aspects of my life. I can see so many improvements in my left hand, there are certain things I can do now that I'm told I couldn't do just months ago. You never know. 

Tomorrow marks the one-year anniversary of the start of my blog, so I thought it would be a good idea to reflect upon on the last 12 months.

A lot has happened in that time; some good, some bad.

The first thing I must do is thank everyone who has read my ramblings, whether through social media or the Gloucestershire Echo on Saturdays.

I trained in how to write for newspapers, not blogs, so I did not really know what I was doing in that respect, so I hope you have enjoyed my random subject matters, but it helps me look back through everything and jog my leaky memory.

What I find utterly unbelievable is how many people have viewed it. The blog app I use shows me how many people have read it. The current total is over 40,000, which just blows me away! For purely egotistical reasons, I like comparing that number to population sizes. So for example, what places; either cities or countries, contain that amount of people.

I like looking back through old blog posts; not only as a useful memory aid, but also to use as inspiration, to see how far I have come on my rehabilitation journey. As the saying goes: you don't know where you're going unless you know where you've been.

I now do three days a week at work in my job as a rugby journalist here in Gloucestershire. Not three whole days, in fact only three hours a day; so less than ten hours a week in total. The big positive I take from this is my working hours have increased during the duration of my return, as I only used to go into the office for an hour at a time, to write these blogs up, so it is clearly going in the right direction. What is also clear to me is my determination to get back to my normal hours and continue the job I love so much, without trying to sound too soppy.

If anything my appreciation of the job has increased after everything I've been through, as I've missed it so much.

I was worried my appetite may diminish slightly during my time off. But even for those few hours I am in the office, I love it, and I'm determined to increase the amount further, if possible. But, as I've seen with my inspirational grandfather passing away recently; health, family, and my amazing girlfriend Amy, really come above anything else. So I must walk before I can run, however, the Rugby World Cup is being staged in this country at the end of the season so that remains a big target for me to get back to 100 per cent for.

I'm also incredibly grateful to my work colleagues and bosses. They have managed my return to work really well, not pushing me too much, but on the other hand, just doing enough to make a contribution - without trying to sound like I'm sucking up to anybody!

Without sounding like I've won an oscar I do want to thank all my family, Amy and Amy's family and all my incredible friends. I would not be here without all the love from these people willing me and pushing me forward.

If one thing is learned from reading this blog; I hope it's that people will know there is life after a brain injury. I hope people can see life is so worth living; whether you can remember things or not. I hope people will see instead of just surviving in the aftermath of a brain injury you can still thrive. 

Once more, thank you so much for reading, who knows where this blog will be next year, I can't wait to find out.

During my visits to Headway on Wednesdays, I have recently been undergoing a form of therapy to help further with my rehabilitation. Now, I know what you might be thinking: and the answer is yes, I cried. A lot. In fact, almost every week. I hate to shatter this image you may have of me in your head as some uber butch and macho bloke..

Let me explain. For six weeks, when I had finished my cooking, and subsequently had my lunch; two excellent services Headway provide for free by the way, and before I caught my bus home, I would be called into a room with a lady who works there to undergo something called CBT, which stands for Cognitive Behavioural Therapy.

Now I know what you must be thinking; images of 'Doctor Venkman' played by actor Bill Murray in the film "Ghostbusters" instantly come/came to mind, but don't worry, it was nothing like that. It is difficult to explain what CBT is, mostly because, at this point in time, I can barely remember it, mostly because the last session I had of it was way back at the beginning of September, which seems so long ago now, but also because of my memory problems, so I apologise if I'm waffling a tad. But don't worry, I was not electrocuted like Murray would do in Ghostbusters! Basically, CBT explores the way you think, or approach certain situations, your actual journey of how you might arrive at certain situations or conclusions, and whether they are particularly positive or negative, and therefore helpful or unhelpful.

Let me throw some more jargon at you, to show off, there are techniques we subconsciously use called "thinking traps" which for want of a better term, are a bit like cul-de-sacs, or dead ends in the road; corridors you can go down in your brain, which have no way out, basically, 'negative thinking'. Now, with help, I have learned, or developed ways to avoid or escape such 'thinking traps'. This is so much more than just 'being positive' or, as the song says: "Always looking on the bright side of life." It is more ingrained than that; it is how we approach certain situations in our mind, and arrive at a particular destination. To avoid negative thinking and be more positive or productive.

One trap I often fell into was 'mind reading' which is where I assume what people are thinking about me without any concrete evidence or reason to believe it. For example: I now walk to work on Monday and Tuesdays, which I feel incredible about but, while I was on my journey, I used to believe everyone was looking at me, thinking how weird I was; I felt everyone knew I had had a brain injury and knew I was so different to them, which made me paranoid and uncomfortable. When actually, in reality, no one even noticed me. I was 'mind reading' these strangers and allowing that to affect my self-esteem, when really if I retrained my mind to not assume these things, I found myself much happier.