I live in a state of being permanently temporary. I guess we all do to some extent… But since ceasing paid employment at the end of 2017, my routine has been – to put it mildly – flexible. I like it this way.
It’s very bad for me.
Always reaching out for freedom.
Always chained.
Trapped.
My hands are tied and as lost as my soul is.
The past two years have shown that no matter the depths I sink to, I claw my way out. And as far as mental health recovery goes, I’m a long way along the path now.
I fell off the radar because, to be honest, I’m struggling to visit here as I’m not sure it’s doing me a […]
For anyone who hasn’t noticed, I have been struggling. Struggling with the concept of recovery. With freedom. With any kind of belief […]
I dream that one day I will be freed from the shackles of anxiety’s chaos. Freed from the pounding heart, shallow breaths […]
I live in a house, surrounded by nature. I sit in bed of a morning, watching native birds sing in the tree outside my bedroom window. I can see the water. I can hear the waves. I can watch the sunrise. These things are always here. They always have been. I’ve lived in this house for 16 years.
