Grief, ED recovery, Mental Health and all the lovely things that give my Sisyphean rock meaning
I was in so much pain, exhausted, and honestly bored of it all. But I still went to Cardiff with my son anyway. It wasn’t easy, and I wasn’t fully present, but it was real. Sometimes life doesn’t hand you a good day. Sometimes you have to make one, even through struggle.
A day in Cardiff for appointments, coffee, and small joys - Lego dragons, plushies, and people-watching - followed by the quieter truth that comes after. A reminder that good days are real, home matters, and sometimes the recovery lasts longer than the outing itself.
Absurd Universe 