I’m not your “problem”
Time To Change is a UK organisation operating under the tagline “Let’s end mental health discrimination.” Ok, cool. No issues with that. On February 6, they’re running an awareness-raising campaign Continue Reading →
Author Archives: writehanded
More on Spoon Theory
I woke up yesterday with an odd thought, a phrase in my head. I think it might be a bit ridiculous because it was completely subconscious but here it is: Continue Reading →
What I wish I had known about SSRIs
I’m currently experiencing SSRI withdrawal – or what the doctors call Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitor Discontinuation Syndrome. To say that it is unpleasant would be somewhat of an understatement. SSRIs Continue Reading →
Zebras and Octopi
In my life, I’ve struggled with having a very black and white attitude towards many things. Things have always been either good or bad or extremely good or extremely bad, Continue Reading →
How to Deal with Triggers
I’m currently seeing a clinical psychologist. There’s a few things I’m focusing on with her, and one of them is distress tolerance. If you follow me on Twitter, you will Continue Reading →
Why the ‘Gigatown’ competition annoys me so much
I know this is possibly a controversial opinion. I know that, in some ways, I should get behind my town’s push to win ‘Gigatown’ – the prize being faster broadband Continue Reading →
How to say thank you when ‘Thank You’ isn’t enough
You know how when you write or say a word over and over, it starts to look odd, and then you start to wonder if you’re actually doing it correctly, Continue Reading →
Conversations with Wolves
Talking to you is like forcing myself through a very small hole in a barbed wire fence with the small brained certainty that the field on the other side is Continue Reading →
Fuck the fucking landscape
Considering the recent success of artists like Lorde and Eleanor Catton doing the exact thing I am about to criticise, – the exact thing I am guilty of myself and Continue Reading →
Evening
You out there sitting in the chill black grass just beyond the yellow fall of light from the kitchen window You know I’m watching wondering if the evening dew has Continue Reading →