For nigh on fifty years I was like most people – very quiet and private about my personal life. I barely shared my inner world with myself, let alone anyone else. But now I live my life like the door to my house is wide open and everyone can see inside. And there are reasons for that profound change. Let me see if my humble words can explain a little bit.
I have a cycle. And it’s not menstrual (that ended 20 years ago). It turns out that every four years, something major happens in my life that changes me. Forever.
At 11:03 AM on Tuesday 03 September 2024 I developed a tremor. It hasn’t left yet. I think it highly unlikely it ever will now. It was triggered by shock.
Broken hearts have been around since mankind first walked out of the primordial slump. But for all the long and painful history of heartbreaks, there is still no tried and tested formula for navigating something that is so deeply personal and individual for every person.
Today my friend, I want to talk about grief. This is a hard story to write but let me start at the beginning.
January 28 will forever be a memorable day in my life. It is the day my mother was born. And it is the day my father died.
My house was spotless when I was growing up. I can take no credit for this – my mother was a meticulous […]
Becoming a grandma brings back all those beautiful memories of becoming a mum. Being a new mum brought me – without a doubt – the happiest times of my life. I love newborn babies.
A story for those who are long-recovered or want to understand more about the origins of eating disorders. For family members of those suffering. For women who have ever been worried about their appearance and how they fit into society. The unpleasant sexual experiences almost universally experienced by women. And the ongoing impact of childhood emotional neglect by parents who hoped to do their best but severely lacked the skills to raise happy children.
These past few months I have felt so exceptionally well. I am not sure if this is just a natural progression of psychological recovery combined with pharmacological support. Or if I’m just living in this deluded bubble of happiness because all my cards seem to be turning up trumps right now. But either way, I feel really well. Really, really well.
I wrote a book. You’ve probably heard me banging on about it over the past few months. Years even. But now we’re at the pointy end of the process.
You know how bad news comes in runs of three? That’s my superstition at any rate… Well apparently good news can do the same thing.
If you’ve known me for more than about five minutes, then you probably know I’ve written a book. It’s been an intense labour of love and like most labours, there have been some painful moments.
Once upon a time, I bought a pair of shoes. I bought a pair of shoes at 3 AM and when they arrived, I didn’t remember buying them. At the time of this unfortunate shoe-purchasing incident, I’d been taking pramipexole for around 5 years. I’d had no side effects and had yet to experience any augmentation (that would come later).
One of the first, and most prolific, things I do when my restless legs are restless, is to stretch. I find stretching offers wonderful – albeit very short-lived – relief and is something I can do anywhere, anytime.
