Unclench your hands.

I’ve been having trouble meditating of late. I have a serious case of monkey brain and can’t seem to stop following trains of thought. The state of the world. Climate change. Politics. My kids. My parents. The oft-annoying cat. My depression. My self-harm. Last week’s episode of Grey’s Anatomy. Did I remember to add bleach to the grocery list? My thoughts bounce like balls in my head...

A bit like a meat puppet.

Depression makes me feel a bit like a meat puppet. That’s a graphic description perhaps, but not an inaccurate expression of my current state. Depression leaves me here but not here; I am a body I haul around and put through the motions, a marionette, a pantomime puppet who is not a real girl. I walk and talk but the disconnect is huge; I feign emotions and connection but it’s an empty act. Depression makes everything unreal, distant...

Sex and religion.

Given the choice between having to discuss my sex life and having to discuss my spiritual beliefs, I’d choose the former every time. Not because doing so would be comfortable; I’m a fairly private person despite the blogging, not at all sanguine about sharing my kinks. What happens in Vegas and all that. No, I’d pick the sex option because discussing religion and spirituality makes me uncomfortable down to my bones...