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.
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.
Dear Sleep, I’ve been thinking of you lately. About all that time we spent together – so comfortable with each other and […]
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.
Writing a book was a mighty endeavour – one I never really dreamed of but slowly as I wrote more and more, and was encouraged more and more, I started to think it was an achievable reality. And while I’m not yet holding a book in my hot little hands, I know I will be by the end of the year.
As an insomniac, I know I often use the words “never” or “none at all.” “I’ve been awake all night.” “For days on end.” But most of the time, an exhausting sleep still involves some sleep.
I found the most fabulous manuscript assessor for my book – the inimitable Julie Gray. She recently asked me to contribute a guest post on […]
Having restless legs syndrome (RLS) is not fun. It is, in fact, a right royal pain in the proverbial. I have it, so I know. The creepy crawly, wriggly jiggly, itchy painful sensations can be there all day and all night long, causing significant disruption to quality of life.
Grief is its own special kind of hellhole misery. Some of us experience it very early on, some are fortunate to be free of loss until later in life. But there’s no escaping the harsh reality of grief eventually.
Well it’s been a busy month or two – I think I can safely say that. Dad’s deteriorating health then his death. And organising the celebration of his life. All very time consuming and emotionally draining affairs. The decision to do a presales campaign for my book. Launching it, promoting it and tying up the loose ends. All very time consuming, exciting and nerve wracking.
When most people think of restless legs syndrome (RLS), they immediately assume it’s about having a sensation of restlessness in the legs. That is after all, what the syndrome is commonly called.
Let’s start by saying restless legs syndrome (RLS) is no fun. The irritating and incessant sensations beneath the surface, leading to an irritating and incessant need to move, is tiresome. It impacts sleep and restricts activities where being confined or staying still is essential.
