Tell Them I Did It For Love
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When He Hit My Wall, I Hit Mine
The emotional impact of a car crashing into your house. I’m writing this five weeks later. And I wish (I wish) I could sit here and tell you that things feel lighter now. That I’ve been able to process. That life is getting back on track. Instead, I’m living on a diet of fries and…
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What To Do If A Car Crashes Into Your House: 10 Immediate Steps
If you’re in crisis right now because a car has literally just crashed into your house – welcome to the horrible club – but I’m not going to make you suffer and waffle on for ages, the TLDR (too lazy didn’t read hehe) summary is right here: If you’re like, dude, it’s too late for…
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An Introduction To The Blog
I feel like I owe you an explanation. If you’re anything like me (nosy af, wants all the gossip and the lore) then you’ll be a little more curious than what the front page of this site can offer, so I thought I’d do you the honour of telling you a little bit more. (Just…
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A Car Crashed Into My House And I’m Traumatised
When your whole world (literally) comes crashing down. It’s been a month of hell. I’m writing this post because at two weeks in at 3am when I searched ‘a car crashed into my house’, I was hoping to find support or understanding or I don’t know, a lanyard I could wear around my neck telling…
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Navigating Your Saturn Return As A Control Freak
And how to let go. I’m a sucker for anticipatory grief, fear and anxiety in general. It falls under a trauma-induced belief system I conjured up way-back-when that theorizes that if I can only plan out every single worst case scenario in my life (and thus plan out how I will respond to said catastrophes),…
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I Only Have Horrible Things To Say To You
You needed someone to blame for the horrible things that happened to us and you picked me. I was getting so close to feeling pity. So close to thinking ‘she’s a bitch, but it’s justified’. So close to not lugging around this rage every day. And then you go and do it again. (For context,…
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Daddy Saturn is Fucking Up My House Move
And my body feels like I’m going through a breakup. Our house move has been in limbo for several weeks [edit – months lol] now after a major hiccup in our upwards chain, and my body doesn’t know what to do with it. There’s a constant murmur in the back of my mind, wherever I…
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When Parenting Is A Form Of Therapy
No one tells you that becoming a parent can help heal your own childhood trauma. “Do you think parenting has brought up anything from your childhood?” the social worker asked. “Yes.” I paused, figuring out where to start. “In short, I just wish that I had a parent like me. And I wish the social…
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Buying A House Is Not Trauma Informed
Offer Accepted, with a sprinkle of anxiety and dread. We’re sat in the awkward in-between of “offer accepted” and “exchange date pending” of our dream house. I’m being hurled with well-meaning “fingers crossed for you”s, and “good lucks” which I didn’t even realise were necessary until recently, but have begun to fill me with dread.…
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The Baby Hates Me
Parenting is one of the only jobs in the world where the feedback you get does not represent how well you are actually doing the job. We look after tiny things who have been through horrendous trauma and pain. Foster care is a role I’ve fit into beautifully, emitting the kind of healing empathy that…
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Over My Dead Body
On the anger that’s eating me alive. This is part three in the Louisa series, find them all here. Maybe this is the end. Maybe my body really can’t handle any of this anymore. And I shall begin to waste away from the inside out, as I continue to reverberate this rage back into my…
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Living inside a trauma brain
And building a life around it. Every now and then I let myself feel pity. I let myself feel sorry for myself. I let myself wallow in the pit of WHY MEs and IT ISN’T FAIRs and NO ONE KNOWS WHAT IT’S LIKEs. I let myself have flashbacks of the rapes and my head being…
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Babe, you activate my nervous system
Why the fuck am I afraid of you? I just got a phone call from a senior work colleague. It’s been half an hour and my heart is still racing, my palms are still sweaty, and I’ve subconsciously popped my feet onto tiptoes, as if my body is bracing to run. I have, of course,…
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If I Wasn’t Sure Then, I Am Sure Now.
How do I outgrow her trauma? This is part 2 of a series, find all parts here. Louisa invited me to her baby shower as a peace offering. Perhaps feeling guilty for all the pain she’d put me through over the last six months, perhaps to shut my mother up, perhaps as a trick. But…
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To The Person Who Hates Me The Most
In your vengeance lies mine. I woke up to yet another Facebook announcement that should have been communicated in person and I think I might just be angry enough this time to finally share something of significance here. I have a sibling. Lucky me. We shall call her Louisa. And there will be many parts…
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The Summer Before She Got Sectioned
And all the things I didn’t do. This is part four of the Louisa series, find all parts here. I had not one, but two dreams about Louisa last night. I think our souls are trying to work this mess out in our sleep. An intervention perhaps. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you…