I have lost count of the times a headline has flashed with a tagline that sets my heart racing and none of the details I need to actually understand the situation.
There’s too much to write about, to think about, to be worried about. And it can be so overwhelming that I end up unable to do anything.
In the end, there was simply too much to talk about. So I’ve decided to talk about scarves.
It took an internal war before I realised that these pills may be something that I would need for the rest of my life – and that that was okay.
I don’t want to be an interfering busybody lecturing on the rules of the train carriage, but I’d rather be that than the meltdown monster I become when it all gets too much.
Sometimes, when I wake up at night and my dogs are lying around me, I have to reach out and check they are still breathing.
I wish I could tell him how he took an angry, lonely, confused little queer autistic girl, and gave her the tools she needed to survive.
I’m fat. This isn’t a statement that is up for debate. I am beautiful. I am also fat.
Do you ever feel like someone has dropped a box of bees in your brain?