Why dating and hypomania don’t mix

I have quit the dating apps. Yes, I know, it’s about fucking time, and certainly not the first time I’ve said I would. But, they are gone, and my profiles have been deleted. It’s made me realise how much time I wasted on swiping, on responding to messages that went nowhere, of being grossed out... Continue Reading →

Wise words from my friend

On Friday night I had a crash. Not spectacular by my standards but a descent into a pretty dark place. I was halfway through icing 100-plus gingerbread men for my family’s Christmas in July dinner (last night when he met them). Icing bag poised in mid-air, I couldn’t breathe. I dropped the bag into the... Continue Reading →

How to stop self-fuckery becoming sabotage

Last night I cried myself to sleep. It was mostly ridiculous but the tears came anyway. I tried to remember the last time I had cried over a man. It was probably Married but it feels like forever ago instead of four months. This year has flown and yet nothing has really happened. I mean,... Continue Reading →

How not to talk to a childless woman

It was six years this month since I found out I would never conceive using my own eggs. Six years since I fell into a deep depression, had weeks off work, starting drinking at 9.30am and cried every day. Next month, it will be six years since I started seeing a psychologist regularly to work... Continue Reading →

How to lose your self-esteem in four words

A boy sent me an unsolicited message. I call him a boy and not a man for reasons that will soon become clear. The boy’s opening message says “hey gorgeous, how are you and why on earth are you single?” It’s Monday morning and I’m forever too open. “The same reason that anyone is single, I guess.... Continue Reading →

When your greatest strength becomes your weakness

It’s no secret that I’ve been struggling lately. Like many of us, I’ve found myself turning to professional services for support and advice. Last night found me on the Lifeline website, which strangely I have never visited before. They had a text line that didn’t appear to be working but I found it interesting to... Continue Reading →

Zombieland: a life without

What seems like only a short time ago, there was a period of time that I didn’t leave the house of a weekend. I spent most of the day in bed, alternating between staring at my phone and sleeping. I slept long into the afternoons, rising to shower, and retiring again to my lounge to... Continue Reading →

Growing older not wiser

I feel old. It’s ridiculous to say at 35 but I feel my life passing me by and I don’t feel in control of it. I got an MRI today on a bung knee. I have no idea what I did to it originally, way back when I first noticed it in 2017, but it’s... Continue Reading →

All the butterflies are dead

For the first time in a long time … Not a fuck buddy, or a fling, dating that goes nowhere or a string of messages that peter out because we have run out of inconsequential nothings to talk about and the effort of being witty is just all too much to be bothered with. I... Continue Reading →

The subtle art of knowing everything is fucked

I usually leave book reviews for my book club meetings but I’m going to make an exception for Mark Manson’s follow up to The Subtle Art of Not Giving a Fuck, aptly titled Everything is Fucked. I’m about two-thirds through but something I read has cut to my core and I can’t seem to get... Continue Reading →

A diagnosis for dating failure

My doctor told me I need to stop giving parts of myself away to people. I thought that was a pretty insightful observation from a man who was checking out my tonsils for infection. The appointment had been made several weeks earlier for a time after work, but as it turned out, I came down... Continue Reading →

I am not myself these days

I’m procrastinating today, which is often the case when I write. I’m avoiding uni work, ignoring my looming deadline to complete my ethics application and research proposal. The fact is my research topic bores me. I mean, I can see the merit in it, but it’s less interesting to me than drinking coffee in the... Continue Reading →

Thinking of me, thinking of you

It took me days to realise I was actively not thinking about you. I could feel the mania setting in – the insatiable need for distraction, to be busy, to be occupied. I spent hours on social media, trawling the same stories again and again, refreshing apps impulsively looking for a hit, a rush, something... Continue Reading →

Hope is a dirty, not a mother, fucker

The problem with people, is that we hold on to hope when there is none. Hope is so much a part of our psyche, that to give it up entirely would be to give up on humanity. That is to say, to give up on hope, we need to be dead. But having hope when... Continue Reading →

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