Finding My Way Back

My regular readers and followers will know that I frequently write for mental health. I’m also aware that this often turns people off too. “Oh great, she’s going on about depression again.” “Why does she always focus on the serious stuff?” “She must be pretty unstable if she has to keep focusing on all that.”

Slowing Down and Changing Gears.

I’m tired. I don’t want to admit it, but I am. I promised myself last year to pay more attention to my ‘give-a-fuck’-budget, and by that I meant that I needed to consider whether something was really worth my time, my energy or my money. I also said that if an event I was invited

Gremlin

Sometimes, when I’m struggling with a larger project, a smaller idea will worm its way into my head and give me a palate cleanser. It helps me to refocus and just get in a little bit of writing practice without worrying about it having to go somewhere or be something. This one came about when

The Waiting Room

Fact or fiction? … You decide. It’s exactly two years to the day that I reacted to some medicine my doctor gave me, passed out, cracked my head open and gave myself a serious concussion. Two years since I almost choked on my own vomit and died. Two years since I visited the Waiting Room

Strong

When people see you as a strong woman, they think that you do not need anything or anyone. They think that you can manage everything and will overcome whatever happens. They presume that you do not mind not being fully listened to, or you do not need any emotional or physical support. When you are

On Reading Aloud

I have a dream, well, perhaps more of a desire really, to be able to stand up in front of an audience of my peers and read some of my written work aloud. I used to be quite good at it when I was at school, with my teachers often choosing me to read aloud