How do I bury you?

You are in my head, from morning til night. In my thoughts, in my dreams, in my hopes, rattling around my brain, a jumble of memories and sentences, expressions and feelings.

Should I bury you?

It probably isn’t healthy, but it can give me so much joy. Where lies the balance between helpful and harmful? How do I stop myself from investing in the good things and protect myself from the harmful things?

Could I bury you?

How could I stop the constant internal chatter? How can I move past this? How do I bury you when I don’t want to?


It’s not what you think


Fantastic read

The First Ten Words by Rich Larson

Chris Cornell, 1964-2017

Chris Cornell died early Thursday morning. His band Soundgarden played a show on Wednesday night at the Fox Theater in Detroit. Two hours after the show ended, he was gone.

For two days, I’ve been working on a piece to pay tribute to him, and it’s been a struggle. Usually when I have a problem like this it’s because I’m staring at a blank screen trying to figure out what I want to say. That’s not the problem this time. The problem is I have way too much to say.

I’m not going to sit here and claim to have been a huge fan of Soundgarden. I didn’t dislike them, I just had to take them in small doses. I was a fan of Cornell. I love “Seasons,” the solo song he had on Cameron Crowe’s movie, Singles. It’s a droning acoustic song about isolation and the…

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Read this awesome article by Saving Sarah Grace


Change can be a mother effer. I’m not even talking about change that happens to you that you had no choice in. Or change that happened slowly, quietly creeping up on you until you realize it’s here [ ta da! ]. No – even when you really really really want to change something, and you […]

via 5 dirty little lies your brain tells you that get in the way of change — saving sarah grace

Friday Lunchtime 


Fridays are a wondrous thing. Something we look forward to all week, as it heralds the end of work and two days of freedom. (p.s. thanks a bunch Industrial Revolution!)


How sad is it that in western society we strive all week, fighting against our instincts, and coop ourselves up in badly lit offices, the yellow of the bulbs your only source of light. Sat in unnatural positions, stressing muscles groups with repetitive activity, talking to people you don’t want to talk to and doing things you’d rather not be doing, usually for somebody else’s benefit. Someone once said to me, if money was no object what would you be? I answered, chocolate taster (haha!) wine connoisseur (lmao!) professional dog petter (pmsl!!) before saying, “I dunno, happy?”, (like some sort of living John Lennon quote). But if I take it seriously and picture this “happy”, what is it? What do I see, what is it I would like to do with my days? So I pictured it, and it is me on a sunny day, it’s between 10am and 2pm. I am pottering. Maybe I am gardening, maybe I am making myself a cup of tea. I am writing something, drawing something, making something. I am doing something later, seeing someone, going somewhere. I am healthy. Maybe it’s not sunny, maybe it’s raining and howling and I am curled up by the window, writing or making something, watching a Netflix favourite in the background or putting on a moody album. I’m threading beads onto elastic, I’m sipping coffee as I type one handed, I am mixing ingredients together to make a home remedy, I am connecting and disconnecting and contributing and inspired.


And that’s kind of the complete opposite of how I live my life………….


I am only on this planet for a finite amount of time (time that is already rapidly accelerating at a terrifying rate!) so how much time do I really want to waste on not living my life in a way that makes me happy. But to be happy how would I manage to pay my bills? Is there such a thing as a balance between the two? This is my goal. This is what has been driving my life for years now. It occupies my every thought and action, everything driving toward discovering the secret to this balance. Of course the secret and the answer is different for each of us, but perhaps this is the meaning of life? To find your own meaning, and your own secret to happiness?

Am I an adult yet?


Am I an adult yet is not necessarily a question or a statement, but more of a way of life. Not a way of life that I chose, but one that I, and many others, live. When I was little I had a frequent thoughts that started “When I am a grown up…” and I am still waiting for this magic event to happen to me. Happen TO me being the key. Now I do have the depressing knowledge that adulthood doesn’t appear during your sleep one night in your twenties, with a magic wand that transforms all your disorganisation into wonderful clarity. The ability to have one’s sh*t together isn’t granted by your fairy godmother, but I have also learnt that calling her a b*tch and threatening her doesn’t inspire her to turn up either.

The clarity I speak of is the mental kind, and I feel everyday I am a step closer, since I started studying psychology and counselling. Suddenly the world shrank for me. All those people, who before were alien to me with their quirks and different upbringings, were humans, suffering from the mental and psychological anguish almost all of us suffer from. In my first year (ok, maybe first two years), I was too scared to speak up in class, so intimidated by all these “grown-ups”, but bit by bit I realised that I wasn’t the only f*ck-up in the room. We are all f*ck-ups in one way or another. What truly sets you apart, however, is how you deal with it, with what life throws at you, what other people throw at you, and what you throw at yourself.

I have learnt so much about myself and others, that I barely recognise the person I used to be. In fact, if I could go back in time and meet my 22 year old self, I wouldn’t give her nuggets of wisdom. I would simply hug her and tell her that she is ok. That things will be ok, and that nothing is too much for her. But I know I am still only at the start.

Thank you


So this is something that I have often thought of doing, but been too scared to do. It is a very vulnerable thing, to put oneself out there for the world to look at, especially when the thing you are intending on showing is the worst and most hidden part of you. But I decided to do it.

Yes there is a benefit for me, but I also hope that there will be a benefit for others, that somehow this will serve to connect people who have had similar experiences, and to make people feel a little less lonely.

I have mental health issues. No I do not know what they are. Words and labels have been banded around, but I always refused to go to the doctors. I didn’t want to be officially labelled. I didn’t want it going down on a piece of paper somewhere, banded around computer systems in black and white; “There is something wrong with this one”. I didn’t want to end up having to take medication for the rest of my life. It is bad enough knowing that you are different; I didn’t want to have everyone else know it for certain. Now this might not have been the most sensible attitude to adopt, but I have never claimed to be the most sensible person. I can get away with being quiet, quirky, a bit weird, a bit socially awkward, those are labels I will embrace and throw back at people if I am ever questioned as they can explain away many things, without the need for medical notes backing them up.

I was convinced that whatever mental health problems I may have, were not impacting my life to any great degree, and, therefore, could not be serious. They must be mild, and I was coping fine. Which for the most part is true. I do manage, I have a full time job, I do well at it (sometimes) and I am a functioning person within society, and yet at the same time, I do struggle. I struggle with the simplest things that most people take for granted. But I also excel at things that others do not, because my moral compass doesn’t always point in exactly the right direction.

But I am so blessed. I have so many people that love me. I have people who believe in me 100%. I have never had to announce my troubles because I manage and I manage because of these people.

To them I owe a debt of gratitude that I do not show often enough.

Nothing is black and white, that is one of the biggest lessons I have learnt in life so far. Do not judge others because things are never black and white. Hold yourself accountable because of the same. We write ourselves as heroes in our own stories, but we may be villans, extras or the village idiot in someone else’s.  Always thank your supporting cast.

Thank you