Mum, moody, messy, manic. Retired musician and aspiring writer.
From dark, sordid, private journaling, this website became my greatest recovery asset for major depression and anxiety, and the eating disorder and self harm behaviours I used to mask them.
I imploded like a smashed egg, and from within I've found a fledgling bird, ready to spread its wings and fly.
I hope within these pages, you find a moment of connection, truth, revelation and understanding. This is my story. Perhaps it's yours too.
In order to successfully publish my memoir next year (hopefully next year) I need to have people to tell about it. So in a desperate and shameless act of self promotion, I've created an author page on Facebook and I'd be very chuffed if you liked it.
I am a master procrastinator. Yes. It's true. When I want to do something, or necessity dictates I have to get off my butt right now, I'm an amazing gogetter. But when I'm feeling a bit blergh about something, or don't really want to do it, I can out-procrastinate the world champion procrastinators. In fact I believe if there were such a competition, I'd be inclined to win.
Today I did some dream writing. It was a technique I learned through Joanne when I did her Seven Day Challenge. I was super teary and tired when I started the day today. It's been a bit of a rough road but you know - that's life. These things happen. It'll be fine. I knew I needed to do some writing and couldn't think of what I needed to write. So I thought I would do some dream writing - I want to mix and match a lot of writing over the period of this January challenge (have I mentioned the January challenge is to write a thousand words every single day? Which doesn't daunt me in the least. But I don't want to write the same thousand words in the same boring place every day.) So today I thought - dream writing. And I did. Dream writing involves setting a timer for a set period of time (just 15 minutes today), starting with a "prompt", and then letting your hand flow across the page for the entire time without stopping or resting or going back at all - just an unbroken stream of thoughts. I wrote the prompt "In the clinic I hope to…" and then my hand flew across the page for fifteen minutes with the following stream of consciousness.