Being me is, for many reasons, frustrating. Being my friend is probably, for many of the same reasons and also many different ones, more frustrating. I had a rough start to friendship when it really counts (ie. at secondary school where, if you’ve read any of my blog, you’ll know that things weren’t exactly great) […]Read More are you my friend?
I have been weighed every week (at least once; sometimes twice) since December 2012. That’s approximately four hundred and seventy six times. Today – September 19th 2017 – I was weighed for the last time. I promised, when I started this blog, that it was going to be about neither weight nor me. You’re going […]Read More A Post About my Weight
This is a topic I keep returning to. It’s something that I think about in bed; in the shower; whilst I’m at work, and also something that my therapist asks me every time I see her. What do I want to achieve? What are my goals? This is scary for two reasons. Reason Number One is that I honestly […]Read More What is “Recovery”?
“Basically,”, says one of my besties and wise woman of the forest, “Your anxiety is actually a tiny weeny cat bitch in your head called Shahaznay and Shahaznay basically wants you to hate yourself and tells you everyone hates you and thinks you’ve been a dick. But, then, what you have to do it be […]Read More Shahaznay the Anxiety Cat
In which we learn that everybody makes mistakes and I am a stripy badger.Read More Tell them Daisy has changed her mind.
Pinpoint the beginning of the ocean. First, nothing special: A donkey and a cabled cream cardigan. Elephant skin sea and, on the same day, and ambulance, screaming blue, jigsawed with crayons on the living-room carpet. Then, lemonade bottles, emptied, filled with rituals and warm water, dappling Paisley between obediently outstretched fingers. Shortly after: Handstands on […]Read More Postcard