The Shanghai Gesture*

One characteristic of manic depressives is a tendency to become obsessed with people, subjects or things.  Have learned about a variety of subjects because of my disorder: from Robbie Williams to Akitas and from Michael Ballack to the Icelandic horse.  These obsessions can become expensive, and tend to last for the duration of a hypomanic […]

Gin and Daggers*

This year am participating in Ginuary: a different gin-based drink for each day in January.  Am not a detox fan and it’s the opposite of a detox.  It’s also a fun, creative project and a friend does it too.  Read about it here: Www.ginuary.com Started with a French 75 on New Year’s Eve: gin, champagne […]

In Cold Blood*

Needing a wee, pushing, awaiting the magic of the catheter where the feeling disappears as the liquid goes down the tube into the bag, I’m suddenly soaked with warm water.  It’s all over my legs and tummy, the sheets and duvet.  Oh no.   Ringing my buzzer, I’m shaking.  This is horrible.  The nurse comes […]

Mystery In White*

   Normal service will be resumed tomorrow.  Mood has gone quite high so am going to meditate and rest. Tomorrow am dog sitting all day for the fluffy Keeshond.  Can’t wait.  Have cancelled all my more-stimulating plans as am not up to them.  Need to rest. The attached photo is the elephant in Seb’s Mum’s […]

Never Leave My Bed*

 “It’s difficult having a conversation with you at the moment as you can’t follow it,” Seb says yesterday.  We’re walking back to the flat from the coffee shop where Seb has consumed his coffee, whilst I spilt my one all over the floor.  “We’re not communicating: you’re just wrapped up in your thoughts.  You’re not […]

Sleeping Murder*

“Everything is ready,” MadFatRunner says.  She’s making a new dish for us: warm quinoa salad with halloumi and roasted red peppers.  “We need an easy thing to cook that isn’t the Omelette,” she says,  “Do you want me to do anything?” I say, as I rest in the nest, eating pickled cucumbers and drinking gin […]

The Appearance Of Murder*

“Rather a lot of parcels have arrived for you,” Dad says. “Oh, good,” I say, looking at the pile of boxes and padded envelopes on the dining room table. “What are all these packages?” Mum says, looking at me with that you’ve-gone-high-again-haven’t-you look.  Or as a friend once put it: “Your mother looks terrified: as […]

The Beast Must Die*

4.15pm and already it’s almost dark outside.  Am writing this on my bike at the gym.  Didn’t make it here this morning, due to an unusually late night last night with my writing chums.  So am here now, despite epic levels of can’t-be-bothered.  Know that will be pleased with self, even if just write this […]

The Sleep That Rescues*

“What’s going on?” Mum says, walking into my room, sitting on the edge of my bed.  “It’s six o’clock.” Sitting up in bed, rubbing my eyes, I say: “what time are the guests coming?”  Wow.  Six o’clock: I’ve been asleep for three and a half hours. “Seven.  And you’ve got to have a bath and […]

High Anxiety*

I’m going to try to describe Anxiety.  It’s much misunderstood I think.   There’s a wren flying around the house, trying to get out and she can’t and you’re chasing after her, trying to coax her towards the door and you’ve got to got to got to chase her out because you’re off on holiday […]