Just a couple of Jellycat Bartholomew bears and some flowers. Come on a little fluffy walk with us.
Author: Absurd Rhio
Hello frens! 42 yo plushie loving mum from Wales, UK
Recovery Day 35 – Reaching the Messy Middle
This is the messy middle — not crisis, not triumph. Just limbo. A breath held. A rope bridge swaying in wind I can’t control. I’m scared, not failing. I’m resting. Gathering strength. One day I’ll step forward. But today, I make camp. I make tea. And I don’t go back.
The Biggest Light In the Dark – The Sun, My Son
He doesn’t fix my pain, and I don’t ask him to - but his love still reaches me, even in the darkest spaces. My son has been the Sun in my universe lately, shining warmth and light on days that felt impossible. I keep orbiting because his light still finds me.
How I Was Manipulated By YouTube Premium – A Story of Rain, Rage and Recovery.
I resisted for years. No Premium. No corporate sellout. Just me, my adblock, and stubborn principles - until YouTube broke my spirit at 4am with a Dutch ice cream ad in the middle of my 10-hour rain video. I cracked. I paid. I am now part of the problem. Enjoy my descent.
Day 29 – The Days Off I Was Forced To Take
Burnt out from recovery, grief, and just existing, I hit a wall - and my body hit back. This is the day I didn’t plan to rest, but had to. From chaos drawers and cereal trails to wax melts and Super Salads, this was the day off I was forced to take.
The Joy Of Jellycats – Daily Prompt
Recovery didn’t bring joy rushing back. It brought pain. Grief. The feelings I ran from. But I keep going- eating, walking, packing a Jellycat - because I want to be here when joy returns. Not the muted kind, but real joy. The kind that stays. The kind that wraps me in fluffiness.
Recovering Myself Makes Her Absence Hurt More
Every time I eat, I feel her absence more. The last time I recovered, she was here. This time, she’s gone - and now the grief is louder than ever. I’m eating, I’m crying, I’m remembering. Recovery isn’t separating grief from food. It’s learning to carry both, one bite at a time.
A Game That Did More Than Lift My Spirits – Spirit City Lofi Sessions
Spirit City gave me something I didn’t know I needed - a quiet space where my digital self could sit, eat, cry, and heal beside me. It’s not just a game. It’s a soft place to land when the world is too loud. Recovery, raccoons, and rain sounds included.
The Macchiato Raid Boss At Starbucks
I challenged a Macchiato at Starbucks today. It felt like fighting a raid boss with no healer—just me, my son, and two plushies. The drink was awful, but I did the thing. Recovery isn’t always rewarding. Sometimes it’s just surviving the fight. And sometimes, that is the reward.
The Funhouse Mirror in My Bathroom
I thought the bath would help. Galaxy glitter, soft water, space to breathe. Instead, the mirror warped, my legs felt like cement, and I didn’t recognise myself. Recovery is a circus, and this was the funhouse mirror moment. But I got out. I got dressed. I drank the macchiato.
Absurd Universe 