Over the past, oh I don’t know, decade maybe, I have become really ranty. Friends, family and those of you who have followed me for some time in my other blogs will know this. I can’t quite decide if this is cultural, or perhaps an age thing, or perhaps a social media thing. Probably the…
Tag: mental health
Letters to Little Sarah – 17.08.2021
Before you read this first entry in Letters to Little Sarah, I wanted to give some context of how this came about. In May 2020, I was diagnosed with Autism. I was 52. A diagnosis of ADHD followed a year later. Whilst I thought discovering I was neurodivergent would immediately make me feel better, it…
The self we cannot see
How did I get here? To this place, where I have no place? I look to the right of me and I see a ghost. A ghost of a person who has walked beside me my whole life – a child really. A ghost of a little girl who has been waiting for me, but…
A sense of place
Sitting at my desk in my craft room, making some cards for some friends, radio playing in the background, my thoughts turn to what it means to have a sense of place and with it a sense of belonging. I am transported to age 8 when I am catapulted from our small 2-up, 2-down council…
Project Hope
I have heard it said that some Autistics have an ability to feel so much empathy that they can feel extreme pain if someone else around them is in pain. This of course flies in the face of what many still believe about Autistics. I have always felt the pain of the others around me….
The Contract
“You’re not actually going to paint that?” “That’s exactly what I am going to do.” “It’s sacrilegious. It’s covering up beautiful timber.” There was nothing beautiful about this piece. The coffee table just sat there – worn, weather beaten from being outside for too long – as we discussed its merits. It was a dirty…
Worm
Hello little Worm. It’s been a while. I see you burying deep in the synapses of my brain. Thoughts on a loop. I can feel the darkness setting in. The pain, the hopelessness, the fear. Mostly the fear. I wonder how it would be if we had felt loved. Some shred of warmth. Would you…
Recovery is a dish best served cold.
{I wrote this post a few weeks ago. I’ve been immersed in my recovery and have not wanted to share this yet. I’m ready now. A few posts regarding my recovery – from alcoholism, addiction and depression – will be following shortly. What is important is that there is light at the end of the tunnel….
The phone call that starts a journey to recovery
I look at the phone. I pick it up. I put it down. I pace. I pick it up again. “Sarah, you need to make the call.” Mr C had said. Tears trickled down my cheeks. “I’m not that bad,” I plead, “I don’t need this. I can manage, I am FINE!” When I grew…
Horace and the train trip to death
I’m on the 2:30 train to Cranbourne. I’ve just met a new friend, Jane, in Melbourne where we spent three lovely hours wandering around the Art of Banksy exhibition followed by a wonderful lunch at Dymocks bookshop. I had vegan shepherds pie accompanied by ginger & lemon tea. I’m feeling tired but also a little…