The Lump of Anxiety.

I have always been the anxious sort which is a difficult thing to admit. I often think I was carved out of anxiety, small, ivory coloured bones scored and polished with fear whilst folded into my mothers womb so that when I left, eventually, it would be as a captive of an over-worked nervous system. For a long time … Continue reading The Lump of Anxiety.

Goodnight Carrie Fisher. 

​Like many, I too loved Carrie Fisher. Carrie was an intelligent, funny, straight forward, sharp, humble,  talented star who we shall all miss. From her iconic role as Princess Leia in Star Wars to her many candid but hilarious books to her constant work as a mental health advocate, she was an incredible lady who … Continue reading Goodnight Carrie Fisher. 

Does Your Mood Drop During The Winter Months? Here are 5 Ways I Cope.

Not so long ago, I sat outside in the garden, a swath of blue sky above my head, the warm sun on my face. I could smell the clove laden Viburnums and the softer Daphnes, see the papery roses zigzagging the fence, the Magnolia with its small creamy flowers stood in a bright ceramic pot. Fat little bumble bees fed on delicate flowers and Butterflies skimmed past like tiny fragments of silk floating through the hot air.

Nine Things Not To Do To Someone With Mental illness.

It's World Mental Health Day. I have to admit this year I might have forgotten, if I hadn't been on Facebook and noticed a friend saying she was trying to wrote something. I, in the interests of inspiration, then asked my friends what I should write about and found myself swamped with ideas. As I couldn't cover all of their insightful suggestions, I decided to pick just one. So here it is.

I Don’t Believe In Psychiatry.

I stood in the foyer. A woman sat at a desk behind me, cooped in by the glass partition that separated us. Her silver glasses hung on a cord around her neck, perched now on her sizable chest and she typed away at the computer with chipped red nails. ‘Can you stop doing that,’ I … Continue reading I Don’t Believe In Psychiatry.

Goodbye Sally Brampton

The double doors swung shut and I made my way out into the fresh air. I know it was 2008, that I remember, but what month, I don’t know. It was warm outside, people wore lighter clothing, shorter skirts, sleeveless tops, and men had their sleeves rolled up and suit jackets flung over their shoulders. I knew it would be hot, it had felt practically tropical inside, we had tried to open the grimy windows, but they would only open so far and the small amount we managed to wedge them open wasn’t enough to let any air in. It only added to the overriding sedation of claustrophobia that many of us experienced in their, we felt like battery hens packed in a crate waiting our eventual demise.