blood nerve and bone

  content warnings: [parental] suicide, incl. discussion of methods, abuse [domestic and psychiatric], drugs i'm not sure why, but it feels appropriate that i'm writing this huddled in a corner in the waiting room at shrewsbury station. all i've got keeping me warm is a not-very-helpful coat and a £3.25 cup of mediocre tea. i wish i could like winter as much as i'm still convinced i do. genuinely, it did use to be my favourite - especially around december and january. it makes me feel small now, though. it makes me remember all the times i wanted my dad to be dead. there were more of these times than i'd ever really care to admit. but i wanted it. i believed my life would be better, and i wasn't wrong. i was right - it is better. for nearly six years now, i haven't been abused by anyone to even nearly the same level. i haven't been scared in my own home, or at all reasonably afraid of being watched. i haven't come home to paramedics, or police, or th...

2025 was... a year. it wasn't the year i became celiac - at least i'm pretty sure it wasn't - but it was the year i put the pieces together. it was the year a very stressful a&e trip, or coming off of testosterone, or a myriad of other possibilities, gave me symptoms that i actually recognised. not a lot of people know that most of my education and career ideas until recently were in health and social care. i remembered being seventeen or eighteen and learning about the mechanics, diagnosis, and diet for celiac disease for my physiology exams. [if you need the revision: celiac disease is an autoimmune disease which causes the immune system to attack the villi - little finger-like structures which help with absorbing nutrients - of the small intestine, whenever gluten is ingested. gluten is a protein found in wheat, barley, rye, and oats. it isn't an intolerance, nor an allergy, and no, not even a tiny bit. yes, forever, it's the only treatment.] i don't know...

tw / death of a parent, suicide, drug use, psychiatric abuse, self harm, brief mention of suicide methods i'm sat in bed, in a position my hip really doesn't like, eating one of the few foods i can for the next few days. it's an aero mousse dessert thing, if you were wondering. yesterday, i got an angry wisdom tooth pulled, and yesterday, i got diagnosed with bipolar disorder on the way to getting said angry wisdom tooth pulled. i knew it was coming - there was no way even the stupidest psychiatrist on their angriest day could see anything else in me. well, except autism, but that's a whole other ballgame. when i went into that long-awaited appointment, in the psych-ward-not-quite (no bedrooms, but certainly a psych ward), i knew what was going to happen when i got out. i would wait a few days, he would consult, he would prescribe. that's exactly what happened, he was right when he said i seemed clued up. bipolar affective disorder type two and lamotrigine tapering ...

twenty two years old and on the internet for over a decade, yet somehow i've never tried my hand at this thing. surprising for someone who likes to talk as much as i do about myself, my life, my interests, my anything at all! i don't know what i'll get up to here, honestly, if anything. journals are just not that fun to me when my brain works faster than my pen. but, in my journal is a lot of vents, some love letters (to people and to things), some essay ramblings... maybe that's what i'll get up to here. having a space where i can just talk for ages about literally anything, outside of uni, without getting out of bed? #NeedThat most of the time at-slash-for uni, i'm writing about something that, sure, i take a general interest in. i study international politics, i'm interested in that! but anyone who has/will have a degree knows that sometimes, you've got to do shit you really don't want to do very much. that's been me this past semester, but i ...