I feel as though I’ve been having the same conversation with The Bear since last November… Continue reading “Confused, Or Just Not Listening?”
It can be difficult, nigh on impossible even, for the chronically ill to find a real sense of peace. On a daily basis, our bodies refuse to obey the most basic rules of human existence, while our appearances give no outward indication of why our lives can be so difficult. We often exist in-between worlds: too able-bodied to be considered truly disabled, yet far too ill to participate in life the way we’re ‘supposed’ to. Finding a place to escape the heavily polarised ‘pull’ of opinions that people are often all too willing to share could be considered to be an essential part of self-care. Even with the various activities and hobbies that I love, the one thing whose absence sincerely affects my psychological wellbeing is going to the cinema. Without these periodic excursions into ‘otherness’, the emotional cracks start to become chasms – it is the sanctuary of the cinema that prevents me from falling in. Continue reading “The Sanctuary Of The Modern Day Zoetrope”
I felt my energy ebbing away and knew that I was destined to experience yet another unproductive day. I’d had so many of those recently; and despite the fact that most people understand that the very substance of the term chronic means I will never fully recover, I still get asked if and when I will be ‘better’.