Friday 3 February 2017


I sat in a meeting this week and my daughters Psychiatrist looked at me and said one day you should write all this down.

I smiled.

I've realised that blogging is my primary self care, it's where I put most of my thoughts. I spill out all my feelings, thoughts and ponderings.  Just doing that is often enough, ugly, beautiful, raw, funny and frustrating thoughts.

Then I breathe, I feel better.

So I cut and paste, edit and polish, sanitise and fashion into something that doesn't offend, something that raises a smile or brings some hope. I protect the innocent and guilty alike and try to be fair.  Then I release it into the wild,  the internet, and walk away feeling better. My blog is about me.

I always had a hunch that losing my anonymity would present challenges of confidentiality and consent or worse. Right now that all seems very real and I don't know what to write anymore, I fear eyes are watching and looking for fault, picking up on words or intention. I've lots to get off my chest, perhaps more than ever before but as I sanitise my posts to the point of being bland, vague and indifferent they there's no catharsis just indifference and frustration.

There's stuff I can post, #cpv,  DfE and the like, but that doesn't scratch the itch.

So, I'm waiting and seeing and writing boring posts like this, though I do feel a little better.


  1. Awesome I blog and get things out. I have to edit my feelings, journals are raw and messy, belongs there, relief comes

    1. I didn't realise how important it was to me til I started to feel scrutinised. It's nice that people read my posts but the best bit is spilling out my thoughts.

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  3. Boring posts are just what i need at the moment. No energy left for drama! :-)