Mental Health

An Uncomfortable Paralysis

I got up from this chair and walked around the apartment 7 or 8 times before finally settling down to write. Even now as I type I can feel the discomfort brewing. Building up, trying to take away my focus and scuttle my intention.
 
It starts as a churning deep in my stomach. A thousand butterflies swarming. Within moments it manifests as an anxious throb. Heart pounding an elevated rhythm. Hands tingling. Blood pumping and thumping in my ears. I’m agitated and unfocused. Thinking is making it worse, fueling the squirming, wriggling dread.

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Mental Health

Fourteen Months and Counting

It’s been over a year since I found the courage to ask for help.

14 months ago I embraced vulnerability and walked into a doctor’s office.

I learned how medicine could give me the shield I needed to find the space between my anixety and my authentic self.

In therapy I learned that in this space there are practices I can use to ease my suffering.

I learned what I truely believe in, I discovered my core values and built a framework to keep me aligned to them.

14 months ago I realised I was not alone.

Many of you have been on this journey with me, loving and supporting me at every step. Many of you have shared your own journeys with me. This is more than social media my friends. We have made, and keep, real connections. You guys give me energy and you fuel my desire to succeed, you are often the source of my hope. With all the paradoxical disconnection of this over connected world always remember there are hearts and souls behind the screens and devices all aching to find belonging and genuine connection.

14 months ago I realised I would be ok.

In some of the hardest months of my life, through upheaval, heartbreak, grief and loss I’ve always known I would come out of this. That the suffering would pass. That I would be ok.

I learned that in every loss and every heartbreak there is a lesson to be learned. A way to grow and a way to become stronger.

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Creative Writing, Mental Health

Cry Pie

An experiment in tragic comedy (it’s true, I just think it’s funny)…. I call it “Cry Pie”

I had a girlfriend a while back. The first one since the end of my marriage. She was lovely, confident, caring and importantly – super into me.

Things started out amazingly. Our first date she drove an hour down from the coast to meet me and try my zoodles.

Our second date I drove us all the way to Byron Bay from Brisbane, stopping over night at Tweed Heads to attend a gratitude life class.

I sent her pineapples at her work instead of flowers and she bought me whisky and cheese from Tasmania.

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