Something happened yesterday which unexpectedly freed me of the hopelessness that's hitched a ride for much of the past decade - my landlord raised the rent. I refuse to pay the new amount, so I need to find a new place to live by mid-April. I never wanted to live where I'm based now, heck,… Continue reading Hope Returned In The Most Unexpected Way
Tag: Mental Health
Off The Internet, Into The Dungeon
I thought I was done with festivals. In recent years, they’ve left me anxious and depleted, often to the point that I've left early. There was a strange sense of relief in deciding I wouldn’t attend festivals anymore, but the decision also fractured my spirit. I refused to accept it. On the 14th of February,… Continue reading Off The Internet, Into The Dungeon
The Crushing Weight Of January
This was going to be a post about snow - prompted by a couple of lines from Sylvia Plath that snagged my flighty attention on Instagram. Well, I know now. I know a little more how much a simple thing like a snowfall can mean to a person. - Sylvia Plath But it quickly dawned… Continue reading The Crushing Weight Of January
Toadstool Therapy
The other day, I woke up almost excited to finally be able to make a doctor's appointment online. Anxiety, chiefly triggered by the diabolical receptionists at the local surgery*, has been putting me off calling at 8.30 am for weeks. To be able to make an appointment without needing to call had me thinking perhaps… Continue reading Toadstool Therapy
Wendigo Magick
Through a simple Etsy search for 'perfume testers,' I invited Wendigo Magick into my life, without realising that a 1ml vial of perfume oil would profoundly alter my relationship with fragrances. But first, a little background. Please, make yourself comfortable - this might take a while. Following a childhood of blasting myself with Impulse Body… Continue reading Wendigo Magick
An Uncomfortable Age
It is my birthday today. I'm thirty-nine. It's an uncomfortable age, an age I've been feeling embarrassed about turning, which is, I know, utterly ludicrous and tragic. On Facebook, I made it so that only I can see my birthdate. It wasn't because of my age, though, but because of messages that come through from… Continue reading An Uncomfortable Age
The Hills Will Be There Tomorrow
Around 10 this morning, I decided to go hiking and photoshooting, so I booked a ticket for a train leaving for 'the hills' at 12:46. I had spent the first half of this week in 'barely functioning' mode after an unusually social Saturday, and I was desperate to restore some 'lust for life' in the… Continue reading The Hills Will Be There Tomorrow
The Neurodivergent Creative
Well hi. It's been a little while. I was going to skulk back in here with a quirky (?) post about self-anthropology, having lifted the idea from the book Tiny Experiments by Anne-Laure Le Cnuff. In an attempt to 'self-renew,' the reader is invited to 'play a game of self-anthropology', which essentially means making 'field… Continue reading The Neurodivergent Creative
Going Home To Poetry
For a long time, I wrote a poem every day. It was my way of grounding myself; breathing was easier after writing a poem. When, for whatever reason, a day passes when I haven't written a poem, the distress is palpable; I'm a wolf pacing a boundary fence. No matter what's been going on in… Continue reading Going Home To Poetry
Burnout
On the 1st of February, I woke up feeling like I was coming down with flu. Frustrated, I took to my bed for the best part of a week. I slept and wrote when I had the energy. In one of my journal entries, I noted: It's been a relief to slow down, to know… Continue reading Burnout
A Wyrd Of Her Own 