This week has been an absolute rollercoaster of extreme emotions — mostly triggered by trying to eat more in recovery (you can read more about that here) — and then, just as the sun returned and spring wrapped everything in its beautiful light, the cluster headaches arrived.

The season change brought on one of my usual episodes, which means I’m now sleep-deprived and curled up in pain, likely for the next few weeks. The contrast has been surreal: the daffodils blooming, sunlight dancing through the windows, soft spring air — while my head throbs with sharp, relentless pain. I love this time of year. I love the gentle warmth, the still-cool nights that let me burrow under my duvet. But it’s hard to appreciate all that when I’m being woken every two hours by what feels like being stabbed in the eye with an ice pick.

And yet, even in the middle of all of that — grief, pain, medical frustration, biscoff-induced emotional chaos, and bone-deep fatigue — I still found things to hold onto. And when I couldn’t find them, I made them.

So here’s a little collection of the things that felt like life rafts this week, keeping me afloat through the emotional tsunamis and turbulent seas.

Coffee With My First-Class Son

If you’ve read my blog for a while, you’ll know I have severe vitamin D deficiency that’s affected my mobility. This week, for the first time in what feels like FOREVER, it finally started to ease up a little. I’m still wobbling around on jelly legs, and I do pay for it the day after doing anything — but I’m moving a bit more freely now. And after spending the better part of a week feeling like an inflatable tube man flopping about in the wind, that alone felt like a triumph.

On Thursday, I finally stepped outside. It was the kind of morning that would normally fill me with joy — bright spring sunshine, birdsong, the feeling of the world gently waking up. I hadn’t slept all night thanks to the cluster headaches, and I wasn’t exactly thrilled about seeing my dietitian — but still, I was going outside. And I was excited to meet my son afterwards.

The appointment itself was a whole situation, but seeing my son completely turned the day around. We headed to Starbucks, and the two of us — plus our plushies, obviously — sat down and shared coffees like it was one of those video game side quests that end up being far more meaningful than the main plot.

He’s recently discovered a love for white mochas, and I broke my usual rules and gave it a try (sorry Clippy). It was lovely, but nothing is ever going to beat dipping a Biscoff biscuit into a black Americano. That’s my personal kind of self-care: rich, smoky, bitter, with just a touch of sweetness — kind of like me.

Then he hit me with the BEST kind of news. He’d just submitted some of his end-of-year university assignments and had already received two of his marks back — both first-class grades. FIRST CLASS! I was so proud my inflatable tube man body almost floated away on a gust of pride. He’s worked so hard this year, through so much, and hearing that news was the lift I didn’t know I needed. I smothered him in love right there in the middle of Starbucks. He’s nearly through his first year already, and I can’t quite believe how quickly the time has flown.

I Love You to the Moon and Back

After Starbucks, we wandered off in search of a few treats. My son deserved something special for his brilliant news, so I picked up a little plant pot with a rainbow on it from our favourite shop, New Pastures Home. It felt like a small celebration in ceramic form. I also couldn’t resist a candle that said: “Calm the f** down.” on it. Honestly, it felt like the perfect companion for my nightly, Biscoff-induced emotional spirals. Mood lighting, the metaphor of it being a literal light in the dark and emotional commentary? Yes, please.

Then I saw it — a little necklace by the till. A moonstone shaped like a crescent moon. It spoke to the space obsessed nerd in me. I had to get it. It’s stunning — soft, glowing, and powerful in that quiet way that doesn’t demand attention but still draws it.

Before meeting my son, I’d also bought myself a few essentials: some new leggings and an oversized hoodie. I got the leggings in two different sizes — one for now and one for later, when my body changes again. The hoodie is a gentle cream, and the leggings are a soft green — both a deliberate step away from my usual all-black uniform.

Even when I was weight restored, I used clothes as a way to hide my body, not embrace it. Aside from the collection of gaming merch, I never really wore anything that felt like me. But maybe, as I move through recovery, I can start exploring clothes not as N7 armour, but as a way to express the me that’s still in here somewhere. A version of me that might enjoy colour, softness, and comfort without apology.

When we got home, I ordered my son a Jellycat Cherry keyring. He’s had his eye on it for a while, and I thought it would be the PERFECT little “congratulations” gift — especially since there aren’t many shops in our city that cater to his very adorable Gen Z aesthetic. I can’t wait for it to arrive.

I may have also ordered a Jellycat for myself. A soft thank you for getting through some hard stuff this week.

Diarly, the Pretty Day One

In a previous post, I mentioned that I bought a new journal to help me process some of my thoughts offline. I don’t share everything here — I do have SOME boundaries — and I’m always careful when it comes to content that might be triggering, especially as I’m currently struggling with anorexia.

But I think I’ve finally realised why journalling has never really helped me in the way it’s supposed to. It’s the perfectionism.

I can’t just write. I HAVE to make it pretty, aesthetic, and flawless. I end up spiralling into hyperfixation mode — obsessing over washi tape, researching the best journaling spreads, resizing printed photos so they’re just right, making my own stickers because why would my journal have someone else’s in it? By the time I actually sit down to write, I’m either worn out or stuck wondering how I’m supposed to cram ten pages of feelings onto one beautifully curated spread. If you’ve been reading this blog for a while, you’ll know I’m not exactly known for brevity. I have long-form thoughts. Always have, probably always will.

I even tried digital journalling. I gave Day One a go, but it was far too boring. Too sterile. I couldn’t use fonts I could actually read (Poppins FOR LIFE), couldn’t change the colours, couldn’t make it feel like mine. And then — in the depths of internet scrolling — I found it. Diarly.

It’s basically what Day One wishes it was. Clean, customisable, and pretty without trying too hard. I can use Poppins. I can change colours. The templates look like actual journal pages, not like I’m typing in DOS. I was genuinely shocked at how much more at home I felt in it. I’ve even started writing my blog drafts there — it’s become both my journal and my little creative den.

The best part? Each journal comes with a notes section — a beautiful, unhinged chaos zone where I can dump everything that doesn’t fit without cluttering up the main entries. It’s so neurodivergent friendly I could cry.

Also, the premium subscription is cheaper than Day One. I highly recommend it if you’re like me — fussy about fonts, picky about colour, and deeply allergic to ugly interfaces. It’s actually made journalling helpful for me, finally. And bonus: it’s been sparking so many new ideas for blog posts too.

Self Care Sunday

After a pretty rough Friday and Saturday, I decided to dedicate all of Sunday to self care. The first thing I did was make my living room cosy — I can’t relax properly when there are art supplies strewn everywhere waiting to jab me in the foot. Once everything was tidy and calm, I ran a bath and used one of the bath bombs my son had bought me.

I went with the Minecraft Diamond Ore bath bomb, and honestly? He did fantastic picking that one — it’s now my ultimate favourite. I stayed in the bath for over an hour, just soaking in the peace. The scent was divine, and the water turned a beautiful blue with glitter swirling through it. It looked properly spacey — and it really was that perfect Minecraft diamond colour. It reminded me of all those times my son and I played Minecraft together, getting excited when we found diamonds. A soft, sparkly kind of nostalgia.

My bear came with me too. She sat at the side of the bath, keeping watch, looking adorable as ever. I gave her my necklace to look after while I bathed — it felt important, somehow. I spent the time watching YouTube videos, playing on my phone, and occasionally just admiring how cute she looked perched there. It was honestly one of the best baths I’ve ever had.

Afterwards, I put on my new clothes, lit WeeGee’s candle, and hugged my bear. I made us a bowl of beans with cheese, took all my supplements, and then sat down to blog. There may have also been a Lush website “add to cart” adventure with a hot chocolate complete with marshmallows. It helped a little — not a miracle cure, but something real. Of course, there are still emotional rollercoasters, but I really loved my self care day. It felt gentle, and much needed.

Holding On

None of this week was easy. There were tears, meltdowns, frustration, pain, and moments where I nearly gave up. But in between all that — scattered through the darkness like little lights guiding you in the dark — were things that made me feel okay for a moment. A bath that felt like stardust. A necklace that glowed like a promise. A coffee with my son that turned into a prideful memory I’ll hold forever. A bear who wore the moon for me when I couldn’t carry it myself.

None of it fixed anything. But it reminded me that I am still here.

Because sometimes, while healing is messy and looks like meltdowns over beans, it also looks like moonstone necklaces, Biscoff-dunked coffee, and plushie purchases you don’t need to explain to anyone.

Minecraft ambience for this minecraft bath bomb post. Ahhh relaxing…. OH CRAP CREEPER.