Feeding Brain Soup

So word through the grapevine is, when a woman hits her thirties and goes through the horrific mental health tombola that NO ONE warned us about, she starts a blog, somewhere to document her trying to figure herself out, mind, body and soul.

“HARK!” I hear you cry, “Doesn’t thou sound like a wanky emo kid, circa 2005?” and yes, you would be bloody correct. There is something kind of isolating about being thirty three in 2024, it is like everyone and no one knows what you are going through all at the same time – a community of lonely, like minded, fuck ups who have paralysis about reaching out and working through our problems. If I see another TikTok clip violently pointing out my undiagnosed autistic tendencies, so help me god.

Why have I decided to start this blog? this drivel of a diary where I can bleurgh all my thoughts, feelings and struggles out for all to see? The dark, the grim, the ugly? Well, I have no expectations of anyone reading it to be honest. I haven’t told anyone who actually knows me, this was a spur of the moment idea when I went on my first walk (today) in months. This weekend, I needed to venture to my local town for an eye test, it was as I had one arse cheek in my car that I had the sickening realization that it was the first time I has stepped foot outside of my house since the Saturday prior.

As a permanent home worker I have long got used to the fact that I need to really dig from my boots to find the motivation to do anything remotely healthy for my mind and body but a whole week rotting within my four walls, oblivious to how detrimental it is for me, is no longer an option. Staying in my pajamas for days on end, not putting a hairbrush or toothbrush anywhere near my person and staring blankly at my work outlook app watching the inbox numbers creep up but with crippling procrastination paralysis preventing any further action – It is what is going to see me spiraling and doing something harmful and irreversible.

So there it is. A suicidal, lazy bitch in her thirties, fighting to claw herself out of the abyss and take small steps to improve her body and most importantly her mental health. I categorically cannot drag this ball and chain in to my forties.

If you have read this then, you clearly have wayyy too much time on your hands and If you have read this far and anything has resonated with you, then I hope you find some comfort that you are not alone and hopefully we can muddle through the shit show, together. ❤