Things I Didn’t Do…

This weekend ended up being the One Where I Didn’t Do Things. I didn’t go to a social meet-up I had been planning to go to due to feeling unwell. I didn’t send off a story before a submission deadline because I realised it needed a lot more work to properly shine. I didn’t work

Don’t Self-Reject!

Have you ever felt super excited about doing a Thing, only to suddenly find yourself crippled by unexpected anxiety, uncertainty and a strong urge to run away and hide? I don’t just mean a physical Thing, but also a creative or artistic one. Self-rejection is the nasty little brother of the Imposter Syndrome Gremlin, and

My Contributory Verse

My brain is being an asshole. I don’t mind admitting that at all. Sometimes it does this, and I know it will pass, but while I’m floundering in that deep, dark hole, everything pretty much sucks. On the positive side, I’ve used it as a catalyst for some extremely dark new stories, which I absolutely

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