Tag Archives: Therapy

On Knowing When And Not When

Had to make a judgement call about what my body can and can’t handle this morning and, sadly, decided it’s not capable of achieving what I’d have liked to achieve today. My plan was to have been in Dorchester for … Continue reading

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On Purpose

As a teenager, even when I professed to be nothing more than a drifter, aimlessly  meandering through life, I wasn’t really drifting because there was always a grand purpose forging the greater narrative of my existence. That purpose was music: … Continue reading

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A Real (Fake) Nephew Of My Uncle Sam

Gazing back at this past week through the sun-smeared spectacles of bank holiday larking around I feel rather fondly about it. It is true that as I write this the muscles in the entirety of my torso are screaming at … Continue reading

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A Cricket Full Of Pocketknife

Wakey. Brekky. Washy. Clothey. Walky. Rehabby. Therapy-y. Lunchy. Shoppy. Homey. I did all of that today and it’s only three of an afternoon. Yes yes, YOU can do all of that and so much more any day you like but … Continue reading

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How Tickled High Ham

What a blessed relief, after a long weekend of being immobilised by pain which was further exacerbated by being quite depressed about the levels of pain I was in, what a blessed relief (I’ve said this already but the bit … Continue reading

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Bang Bang My Own Negative Self-Projection Shot Me Down

Homework from therapy this week is a new angle for me. Having recognised that focusing on the loud noises of anxiety which often masquerade as an internal dialogue makes me depressed and feeling like I’d rather listen to audio of … Continue reading

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I, Arsehole

Therapy. Sometimes it makes you feel shit-kicking good. Sometimes it makes you feel ass-wiping bad. Today it was the latter. I was unfocused, maudlin, and filled with self-recrimination in conversation with my therapist today. Wouldn’t happen to be pretty much … Continue reading

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