I’ve had a whirlwind of flares of late. As soon as one issue eases another gears up. I’ve been chipping away at some projects very slowly. However, when unable to function these are some of the things that have helped me pass the time.
I got a free trial of Apple TV with my new phone whilst having a scroll and decided to give Ted Lasso a try. I knew that it was about an American coming to manage a football team. I thought it was funny. Other than that I was going in blind. Oh my god! What a show, I’m a wreck. It’s the most emotional thing I have watched in a long time. It is laugh out loud funny, but it also has the most heart wrenching moments. I fell in love with almost all of the characters. It managed to be truly hopeful without swimming in cheese. If you haven’t seen it, you must. Bittersweet and beautiful with a little crazy thrown in for good measure.
Talking of Lasso, the soundtrack is goooood. One of the gems I discovered is Strange by Celeste. It’s one of those songs I can feel. Celeste’s voice is haunting. She perfectly captures the weirdness of human relationships. We go from not knowing someone exists, to being the most important person in their life and sometimes, back to strangers again. It’s painful, but also inevitable. We all change, we grow, not always towards each other. It’s not an original thought, but it is uniquely expressed.
Yoko By Maisie Peters was a Tik Tok find. Someone used the music in a video and I was hooked. I love the idea of miscommunication described this way. I think as a woman we’ve also all met those men who loudly proclaim Yoko is to blame for the breakup of The Beatles. They’re usually of a type. I’m never surprised when more casual misogyny spills forth. Anyway, it’s a song about people misunderstanding each other and ultimately one party not making the effort. All encapsulated in the lines,
You know Yoko never broke up that band, You misunderstood The Beatles…
I’m not ashamed to admit I’d like to have written that couplet.
On a completely different bent, we have the H3 Podcast. As usual I am years slow in the uptake, but I have been enjoying it for the last few weeks. I believe it has been a controversial like. I care not. It’s a free form live podcast. Very funny, the team have a genuine camaraderie & I tend agree with most of their takes. There’s loads of nonsense plus coverage of current events. I love that Ethan is willing to admit his mistakes. Of course you know I’m a sucker for a real family man; which he seems to be. Love me some wife guy vibes.
Finally, my latest read was a winner. This Family by Kate Sawyer takes place at a wedding. The family members and their history are slowly introduced as the day unfolds. Sawyer correctly portrays how complicated family relationships can be. All the little betrayals, annoyances & differing opinions between a group of people bound together for life. I really loved it.
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Mother’s Day is always a tricky one for me. I love my Mum, of course I want to celebrate her. I have a lot of wonderful Mums in my life. All of whom deserve to be spoiled. I also feel incredibly fragile.
I’ve put a lot of time and effort into building a protective shell around myself. You can’t live if you wake up everyday confounded by what you have lost. It’s always there, but self preservation is an art you can learn. There are some thoughts that I don’t allow myself to examine. I push them outside of my armour and focus on something else. Unfortunately my shell is not impenetrable. There are dates, memories that crack the surface. Mother’s Day, is obviously one of those occasions.
Mothering Sunday is a trigger in the true sense of the word. It has the power to wreck me. Realistically, that’s not an option. I refuse to ruin a special day for people I love. Still, the whole process is hard. Shopping for gifts is painful. I find myself drawn to things that I’d like to have received. I both love and envy watching my niblings express their love for their Mummies. That bond between mother and child is unique. And oh so special. All of my siblings have children meaning my Mum is also Gran. They love her so much and always want to make/buy things for her too. It’s another little detail that I dreamed of, but won’t live. Each of these pierce holes in my carefully crafted casing.
For me, the solution has been creating a little emotional distance. I pull myself back from the feelings and do what I can to enjoy the day. When I’m alone again, I let myself feel it. What’s the point of this? Just to say that if you are struggling today, I get it. It’s ok to give yourself what you need. Go gentle.
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This month I continue to support the people of Palestine with my charitable donations. I still find it extremely difficult to believe that we are witnessing a genocide happen in real time, ignored by most of our leaders.
Watching the videos coming out of Palestine is unbearable. Palestinians are forced to live this horror, so we cannot turn away. This week I have been inspired by the amazing Robyn Boyle and her work with Gaza Genocide Emergency Committee promoting boycotts. To quote Robyn, a boycott is an easy thing to ask of people because in a sense, you’re only asking that they do nothing. Boycotts are a free and simple way to take action. BDS (Boycott, Divestment & Sanctions) are a great resource on who to boycott, with location specific information. Money talks, where you choose to spend yours can have a huge impact.
We must of course also keep pressure on our politicians. They work for us, public opinion is overwhelmingly in support of a ceasefire. It is incumbent upon us to make that clear.
For my part I have also chosen to donate to UNFPA’s ‘Mama Kit’ campaign. A Mama Kit provides essentials for women with newborns in areas affected by natural disasters and conflicts. Gaza is currently severely lacking in food, clean water and medical supplies. One of these kits really could mean the difference between life and death.
As predicted last week’s level of activity resulted in this week’s inactivity. I’ve been sore and exhausted. Tedious, but expected. The thing that has really been bothering me is my foul mood.
I’m extremely pissed off. Don’t ask me why because I have no idea. No one has done anything egregious. I have experienced no great wrong. Yet, each day I wake up feeling grumpier than the last. My baseline emotion is crabby.
The slightest provocation sends my simmering frustration to bubbling over. I lose a page in a book, spill my tea, forget a detail and I’m furious. My wrath is not solely directed inwards, everyone & everything annoys me. For no reason. I know my feelings are unreasonable. Consequently, it is best for me to be where others are not. I doubt all this seclusion is helpful. Turning all this negativity on myself is unlikely to produce much joy.
I’m at a loss for a solution. I’m accustomed to feeling sad or scared, but this aimless anger is uniquely discomforting. I hope it will pass. Perhaps when I’m less fatigued my mood will lift. Maybe the state of the world is getting to me. Or just life itself. Whatever the cause, I do not love it.
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Time to talk day has just be crept across my timeline. I’m hoping it’s a testament to how attitudes have changed towards what is needed in the mental health sphere that I’m only being alerted to it at 9.30pm. Despite my cynicism I clicked and perused the website.
Sadly, it’s the same old story. Like most other mainstream advocacy for mental illness, Time to talk fails in tackling the real barriers people with mental illness face. Of course it is important to dispel stigma around mental health problems. It is also great to encourage people to support friends, colleagues etc. The tips on how to approach such conversations are fairly helpful. My issue with this model is that I don’t believe it acknowledges the depth & breath of the problem. In fact, I would go further in saying that the offering a listening ear platitudes can even diminish the experience of many with mental illness.
I’m 43yrs old and I have managed various levels of mental Illness almost entire and life. In all of that time the NHS has been under resourced in the mental health sector. As the years have gone by funding has been slashed and the problem has grown. We have been at crisis status for a very long time. There has been an uptake in mental health awareness. Campaign after campaign successfully identified warning signs and urged us to seek help. Unfortunately, the help requested is most often not forthcoming.
At the moment just getting a Gp appointment can be an enormous struggle. From there referral to primary mental health services always results in landing in a very long waiting list. If you can survive that wait, the treatment available can be limited. The first line is usually a limited course of CBT (cognitive behavioural therapy). CBT can of course be effective for some issues. It is not an answer for more complex mental illness. Alongside CBT there are a variety of helplines and websites, which can offer valuable information, but do not constitute treatment. There are of course psychiatric medications. These can be life saving and do improve the lives of millions. However, they are not magic, most often they must be used in conjunction with other therapies.
A referral beyond the intial interventions already mentioned is difficult to obtain. Infuriatingly, not everyone merits a place on their waiting lists. Those who do make it are in for another privilege wait. The quality, duration & efficacy of what is available at the end of that line is unknown. There are excellent professionals, treatments & resources, but they are stretched beyond thin. There simply aren’t beds, funding or staffing to provide the appropriate treatment & support for everyone who needs it. The result is, most people are shirt changed. Problems that could be caught early are allowed to progress. Serious problems become emergencies. In short, our population suffers more mental illness and become trapped in illness for longer. Some, forever.
Beyond the personal tragedy, the social and economic toll this takes is clear. People become unable to work, care for their families, participate in their communities, they then are laden with whole new set of problems. This of course negatively impacts their mental health and round they go. More people end up in crisis with no where to turn but emergency services, which are not equipped to render proper treatment. Again worsening the situation of the individual and eroding resources available overall. Apply this cycle across the board and it becomes obvious how vicious it is. It is an enormous widespread problem that can not be solved without massive funding, recruitment and a re evaluation of government policy.
Atop those failings is the fundamental shortcomings of the message itself. Breaking down stigma is vital. However, I think the focus of these campaigns, asking how people are feeling, actually is listening to the answer and so on, don’t go nearly far enough. It gives the impression that all mental illness can be easily solved. The adverts and literature are always about depression or anxiety. They show the palatable side of these conditions; someone who has a difficult period and with a little help from their friends gets better. Images of people crying or holding their head in their hands distort the reality of living with such conditions. When someone can’t get out of bed or in the shower for days on end, when they can’t function or find relief despite those caring chats it’s a shock. A check in with the Gp & some anti depressants won’t cure everything. Mental illness encompasses a myriad of conditions. Symptoms can be extraordinarily distressing and debilitating. Some are enduring illnesses that require complex and specialised treatment. Conditions like schizophrenia, Ptsd or Bpd are rarely discussed. Instead they’re sensationalised & misrepresented in the media. Perpetuating dangerous ideas about those living with certain conditions. The fear and shame have not been dispelled. We’ve merely carved out a tiny category of ‘acceptable’ mental illness.
The recovery narrative presented in mainstream mental health advocacy is too simple. Not everyone gets better. Lots of people instead learn to manage their mental illness. Others have recurring episodes. They are still smart, loving, valuable human beings. When all society is presented with is neat stories of struggle, seek help, return to health forever expectations are unrealistic . Those who don’t follow that template become doubted. Compassion turns to thinking they’re not trying hard enough or maybe they’re exaggerating. Stigma persists. We need an informed public. Not only on the broader experience of mental illness, but on ways to bring about change. People should know why our services are failing. The power of our voices and votes must be understood. We also need education around navigating the systems that exist. Everyone should be aware of how best to advocate for themselves and loved ones. We do need to talk, it’s just a much bigger conversation.
If you like what I do you can support me here or on Patreon.
January’s charity contribution was sadly a very obvious choice. The assault on the Palestinian people has continued despite even the intervention of the ICJ. The resulting humanitarian crisis is overwhelming.
Health care & residential infrastructure have been decimated. Most of the population are starving. Malnourished mothers are giving birth to babies who can survive only a few days. The scale of suffering is hard to comprehend. If you can please consider donating to one of these amazing organisations.
Unicef provide essential aid to combat disease, malnutrition & injury. They are focused on caring for the millions of children impacted in Gaza.
Medical Aid Palestine works for the health & dignity of Palestinians living under occupation. They desperately need help in providing urgent medical care and developing local capacity to ensure long term medical services.
Hakini is working to set up an emergency hotline for people in psychological distress. They provide specialised training for volunteers to support civilians & aid workers.
I’ve never feared storms. On the contrary, I mostly find them comforting. Thunder, gales, torrential downpour all increase my sense of safety as long as I experience their strength from behind four walls. Nothing feels quite as cosy as listening to wild weather batter around one’s secure domicile. The sounds are soothing. The gratitude of having a comfortable place to take shelter brings a warm contentment. Similarly, I enjoy rough seas. I’ve always preferred a desolate winter beach to one that is sundrenched. I find a listing vessel thrilling. I hope for a crossing choppy enough to produce that I don’t know where my foot will land when I take a step sensation. Crashing waves, howling winds, angry skies; tick, tick, tick.
There is only one niggle. If Mother Nature is unsettled in conjunction with my mind things can get rocky. Only a very particular mood presents a problem. Clear cut emotions pose no threat. If I’m sad the rain feels appropriate. Angry and my dirt is matched.However, if a storm hits when my mind is in conflict with itself, batten down the hatches. Sometimes what I want to feel clashes up against what I actually do feel. Other times I can’t decipher exactly what I think or feel. Then there are the overlapping, opposing emotions running around up there. All of which are heightened by a natural uproar. Somehow nature’s dramatics heighten my confusion. I can’t straighten out my insides & the untamed outdoors gives the mess a false significance. Querulous suppositions that might otherwise pass are given weight. Being aware of this does nothing to lessen the frustration. One can’t logic their way out of a metaphorical brick in the stomach.
Thus tonight I am in flux. Craziness swirls beyond my bedroom window & behind my eyes. I can’t unpick the tangle. Perhaps I’ll know what I feel tomorrow
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In keeping with my ‘24 in, today is a little run down of words I’ve been consuming lately. If you’re looking for some literary fiction to dive into, read on.
Before My Actual Heart Breaks by Tish Delaney is an extraordinary book. It follows the life of Mary growing up amidst the troubles in Northern Ireland. A girl seeking a life diametrically opposed to one she is living. Delaney deftly evokes time & place that doesn’t really exist anymore. I marvelled at strikingly different experience of woman not much older than myself. A person existing in my lifetime, but living an entirely alien life. Aptly titled as I broke my heart crying at several points. It so beautifully how badly we can misunderstand the people we should know best.
Little Fires Everywhere by Celeste Ng has had people raving forever. The hype increased when they did a big name adaptation and I finally got around to reading it. I’m pleased it made it to the top of my read pile. I loved the layering in the story, how the themes unravelled slowly. Privilege, secrets, motherhood are all so cleverly intertwined. The setting & it’s history perfectly captured elements of life in America.
Lastly a re read, After You’d Gone by Maggie O’Farrell. One of my very favourite books. I must have read a dozen times and I devour it every time. It’s both the classic love story and the unexpected. Complete with big romantic gestures, star crossed moments, but still packs surprises. I have recommended this novel to many people and every single one has fallen head over feels for it. Give yourself a treat, read this book.
Bronan has very little interest in what I’m reading. In fact he’s much rather I stopped with the books and gave him all of my attention.
If you like what I do you can support me here or on Patreon.
Would you like to see some things I have been wearing lately? Excellent because that’s exactly what this blog is about. It’s all everyday fashion. I spend a lot of time with little people and in Dr’s waiting rooms; so comfort is paramount.
That doesn’t mean I don’t want to look cool. The keys to my winter 23/24 looks are layering & my Air Cloudies. I didn’t really want these boots, but they might be the best thing I have ever bought. Waterproof, fleece lined and cushioned soles. They are actually like walking on clouds. Also, you can fling them in the washing machine. Spoonie friends, you need these.
On the layering front, I like wearing my summer dresses with extras. Stick some tights on, tie up a t shirt & top with a cardi. You’re ready to face the Scottish winter.
This t shirt was a Xmas gift from my sister. I felt a bit teary when I opened it because it highlights how well she knows me. If you don’t want Joni Mitchell lyrics on your chest, fear not they are custom.
T- Shirt – Delicious Monster Tea
I love little floppy mini skirts, but since I cannot gracefully sit or bend, they would definitely result in a lot of flashing. Hence, this skort is one of my fav pieces. All the cuteness of a wee a skirt, with shorts built in to save my blushes. Tights & fluffy cardi make this winter proof. When it comes to tights, it’s always snags. They fit, they don’t fall down & I don’t ladder them on the first wear.
Skort – Simply Be T-Shirt – Curated By Girls Cardigan – ASOS Curve Tights – Snag
I’m 100% an outfit repeater. I don’t really understand the point of not being. I buy clothes that I love and feel good in. Why wouldn’t I want to repeat that experience? Most weeks involve repeats. This one was no different. I swapped my cardigan for a jumper and was good to go again.
Finally, I have today’s look. I fell in love with this jumpsuit the minute I saw it. I adore the zip and contrast stitching. I bought two sizes and even the bigger feels a tiny bit short in the body. Definitely one to size up on. If you have a longer torso, it might not be a winner.
Jumpsuit – Simply Be Tote Bag – Banksy Exhibit
I slipped on another Xmas gift today. This one is from my bestie & sums me pretty well!
I finally got a chance to see the film everyone is freaking out over. It would be remiss of me not to add my thoughts on the matter. Of course everyone is always just dying to know what I think.
I liked it. I enjoyed the weirdness. The attempt at class commentary was interesting, if shy of the target. I thought the cast turned in excellent performances. It is certainly worth a watch.
Now let’s get contrary. I’m at odds with most of the big talking points. Perhaps I’ve misinterpreted, but here are my thoughts.
The Bath Scene
I’m not even sure what I expected, from the furore, much more than I got. The way people have been talking, I anticipated a moral outrage. In actuality, it’s just pretty gross. Obviously there was the ‘oh my god, someone’s going to catch him’ cringe. It was the tongue near the plug hole that made me feel boaky. The rest wasn’t my idea of sexy, but hey, who hasn’t had some sort of a salty experience?
While we’re on the going nuts about sex topic; period sex is not a big deal.
Class War
I’ve seen a few takes on this. It was an attack on the upper classes, or the middle classes or social mobility in general. After a little thought I think perhaps it was meant as a critique of the privilege & absurdity of the landed gentry. Unfortunately it missed the mark because it was written by one of the ranks. The treatment of the scholarship students is suitably vile. As is the vying & back stabbing between the Saltburn residents. However when you compare the characters of Felix & Oliver you are directed to have less empathy for the plucky everyman. Instead you’re given the impression that perhaps Felix & Co are correct to guard against interlopers. Intentional or not, the last scene gives at last I’m one of them more than eat the rich.
The Confusion
I am constantly finding commentary on how confusing the film is. I even saw a review that described feeling as though they had fallen asleep and missed vital action. I do not comprehend what people didn’t comprehend. It gets really weird, but it remains clear.
Murder in the Dancefloor
Great song. Great body. Great ending. Why is everyone flipping out? Judging by tik tok discourse I thought I was in for Mark Wahlberg in Boogie Nights moment. Call me crass, all I saw was a standard big dick. Am I crazy, what is everyone losing their minds over?
In summation if you haven’t seen it, do. Don’t expect any earth shattering meaning. Just enjoy the freaky thriller.
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