Mould, mildew, and anxiety.

I’m not sure that combining an anxious nature with a creative imagination is a good idea. I think I’d do better at managing my anxiety if my brain couldn’t create elaborate, albeit improbable, scenarios. It’s a nice thought. I like it. It’s probably not true: I had three panic attacks yesterday without much in the…… Continue reading Mould, mildew, and anxiety.

Tell me who I am.

I’m a chameleon. It’s one of my greatest skills: it’s also a curse. The ability to slide into any environment, to be what’s “expected” because conflict and rejection must be avoided, comes at a cost. You lose a sense of who you are independent of other people. You need another to pair with or stand…… Continue reading Tell me who I am.

Love, belonging, and bathtubs.

I had a few thoughts while lying in the bath. It’s my new smoking: I think of things I might want to write about there. It’s less convenient: the inspiration that occurred while puffing was easy to add to my phone for later fleshing out. I don’t keep my phone next to the tub for…… Continue reading Love, belonging, and bathtubs.

Off the cuff.

Another night of weak sleep. It’s a combination of things: guilt at snapping at my parents, distress over my daughter’s problems, personal grief, pain and misery. On the bright side, my hips are fine. As in, they’re still screwed but no worse than last year. Why then, the pain, the swelling, the vomiting? Referrals are…… Continue reading Off the cuff.