Grief, ED recovery, Mental Health and all the lovely things that give my Sisyphean rock meaning
Significant anaemia, an invisible surveyor, and an attempted betrayal of the sacred pistachio-crème snack plate: this week has been a lot. Between cleaning, iron tablets, cluster headaches, and a late-night chaos-goblin incident, I’m learning that recovery means rest, fuel, Minecraft ambience, and refusing to make cereal happen.
Sometimes when I wake up, my anxiety wakes up first. Before I’ve even opened my eyes my brain is already spiralling about weight, Welsh elections, quantum mechanics and whether Biscoff spread contains enough energy to power a small nation. By the end of the day, seagulls, Starbucks and my son helped ground me again.
Absurd Universe 