I put on my Cyberpunk 2077 hoodie, the one that once made me feel powerful—like I was V, ready to take on the world. But now, it drowns me. The fabric hangs loose where I used to fill it. I might be wearing it, but it doesn’t feel like mine anymore.
Tag: writing
The Little Stuff And Things Keeping Me From The Black Hole of Depression
Depression feels like a black hole pulling me in, but sometimes, it’s the smallest things that keep me from crossing the event horizon—a Jellycat bee gifted by my son, the soft glow of a wax melt burner, or a plushie left in my bed to remind me I’m not alone.
A Letter To My Son – For Your 20th Birthday.
I can’t believe you’re 20. Two whole decades of you in my life, shaping me just as much as I’ve raised you. Watching you grow into your most authentic self has been the greatest privilege. No matter where life takes you, you’ll always have me, quantum entangled, forever
The Lights Still Visible In The Void – A Weekly Report From The Event Horizon
This week was chaos incarnate. I had MANY meltdowns, became an anti-capitalist hero via a magazine subscription app, my son delivered an epic BBC takedown, and I spent a lot of time hugging Jellycats—when they weren’t in quarantine. But somehow, I’m still here. And honestly? I’ll take that as a win.
Bleaching My Sons Hair While Our Universe Succumbs to Maximum Entropy.
When everything crumbled — blood tests, eating disorder relapse, endless chaos — I leaned into maximum entropy. Physics couldn’t fix it, but it made sense of the mess. So, while our universe succumbed to entropy, I bleached my son’s hair. Order emerged in the chaos, his hair flawless, my new Jellycat pig, Hamilton, watching.
A Letter To My Best Friend – For the Anniversary of Your Death
I still visit you through your blog, your home in the digital world. The world got darker when you left, but you’re still a constant guiding light. I light this candle for you — not as a goodbye, but as a hello again. You’re always with me. I miss you.
I Tried Macramé, and Now My Entire Flat and Plushies Are Covered in It — My Macramé Journey
I started macramé thinking, “I could probably do that.” Fast forward to today, and my flat, my bears, and every plushie in sight are covered in knotted creations. What began as a way to save money became an unexpected act of love — crafting, knot by knot, for those I care about most.
AirlockED – My ED and the Illusion of Safety in the Airlock.
Navigating life with an eating disorder feels like being trapped in an airlock, caught between the crushing pull of a black hole and the safety of my ship. Recovery is about survival, fear, and the hard choices to step through pain for freedom. Let’s explore the illusion of the airlocks safety together.
I Can See Clearly Now – New Glasses and the Cosmic Alignment of the Moon.
The author shares a reflective account of their particularly eventful Thursday, starting with collecting new glasses from Specsavers. Excited about clearer vision, they enjoy a day filled with family moments, coffee at Starbucks, and an unexpected cluster headache. Experiencing beauty in small details, they find joy and clarity in everyday events.
Thoughts from the Moon – Escapism and Avoidance
Ever since I can remember, I've had this pathological compulsion for avoidance and escapism. I remember being a young school kid staring out of the bus window on the long freezing cold journeys to school in the winter, blasting "Muse - Newborn" from my CD Walkman, imagining that I was escaping, running away to never …
Continue reading Thoughts from the Moon – Escapism and Avoidance
Absurd Universe 