Eating late. I went to bed with a fully full stomach, felt a bit sick. Life had been very hectic. In good ways. I’m getting married. I couldn’t sleep and my mind was racing a bit, after a while, uncomfortable with two great big numpty dogs lying on me, I still couldn’t sleep. Sleep is a capricious bugger- unpredictable and unreliable but wonderful in his kinder moments.Bit like the devil. Undeniably desirable. The ultimate bad boy. Irresistible. Whilst I waited for him not to come a rather unpleasant man came instead. His face was white- ghoulish. Bony and leering. Right by my bed. He’s been here before. I closed my eyes and he came nearer. I closed my eyes and he grew bigger. I closed my eyes and he said I.Will.Kill.You. I Stopped closing my eyes. I woke my soon to be husband, often it’s been my daughter, and tried to tell him we had company. He didn’t seem to mind. He really helped me, I felt so unsafe. I do not feel safe. Eventually the man left, just as sleep rocked up, late. Well I thought he’d left but it seems he and sleep were on rotating shifts. Bit of medication and the swine backed off. Hung around but got bored of being ignored. Not a lot of point putting the fear of God in someone who has a bodyguard. Made himself look a bit silly really. Made me look a bit silly too, granted, but who’s still here holding fort? Holding court? Yep, me. 

The Monkey In My Tree

They have cut down my tree with the monkey in.

I’m not sure why they have done this but I feel bereft. As usual. There is more light and a clear view of the view but I don’t want to look at the view. I want to look at the monkey in the tree.

Trigger Warning


Just Gushing

Screen shot 2015-03-17 at 19.25.56

How do you like my latest trigger warning?

On a serious note – tw for suicide stuff.

Remember the local bipolar guy who attempted suicide? He’s still in an induced coma and has run out of medical aid. Apparently he took a month and a half’s supply of whatever meds he’s on, washed down with alcohol. They suspect there’s brain damage from it all. Fucking awful for his loved ones.

What could have been said?

Everybody tries to prevent suicide and frequently with slogans like
Hang in there.
Keep on keepin’ on.
It’s gonna be ok.
I’ve said ‘em all myself and heard them said to me too. Maybe they’re not working, maybe we have to rethink the strategy. There’s no stick on the planet that’ll work on someone whose deepest and most desperate desire is to end it all as soon as possible. The carrots don’t seem to be…

View original post 1,405 more words

Lauren E. Simonutti


Lauren E. Simonutti, 1968, passed away due to complications from her illness. On March 28th, 1966 she started hearing voices and was diagnosed with “rapid cycling, mixed state bipolar with schizoaffective disorder”. She felt she was going mad and spent her last years almost in isolation. She turned the camera on herself and the space she was living in. She has left us with an impressive, honest and strong body of work. With her photographs she gave a voice to those that suffer in isolation. I feel terribly sad when I look on this photograph – I wonder how many hours I have spent in the darkness. Depression is debilitating and tormenting as is mixed and rapid cycling. I often lay with something over my face – blocking everything out. Xo

View original post

Grey Areas

So would I.

Just Gushing

A brave gush from Kahanski. A story that’s sadly so familiar but never any less infuriating. Kahanski is a incredible, funny and cool woman who lives and works in London. We are very grateful for her story.

It is the first week of university; freshers week. There is a party on the 5th floor of a tall block of student accommodation. A girl at the party is very drunk. She is drinking to make friends, she is drinking because it’s fun and it feels good and tonight freedom tastes like vodka. She is not a confident nineteen year old. She’s a little chubby and has glasses. This bottle of vodka traveled with her to from the sticks to the city, it’s her gateway to making new friends, she shares it around but keeps filling her glass, it feels good to drink and dance with all these new people.

Things are…

View original post 784 more words