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Listen Very Carefully (But I'll Say It More than Once)

Falling this year on February 1, Time to Talk Day is dedicated to countering the stigma surrounding mental health. Last year, I discussed some of the reasons we might not want to talk about how we’re feeling. This time, I want to explore something that’s rarely discussed in the context of conversations about mental health: repetition. UK readers of a certain age may recall a catchphrase from the sitcom ’Allo ’Allo! , which ran from 1982 to 1992: “Listen very carefully. I shall say this only once.” Sometimes, though, our message isn’t fully received at the first attempt. Being prepared to say things more than once can make all the difference. These thoughts were inspired by a recent video call with my friend and fellow mental health blogger Aimee Wilson, who blogs at I’m NOT Disordered . We were talking about her experiences with the crisis team, specifically the initial conversation with the person who answers the phone. At times, these conversations have not gone well and we dis...

Lessons of the Night

By Fran Houston Sometimes I wake up. Sometimes not. I hold onto the bed for dear life. I am familiar with the night and its darkness. As a child I lived in the basement of our house as a mole does in his tunnel and could navigate through the narrow path of jagged, stacked boxes to the bathroom in the dark. The lights didn’t work. Wrapped in my blanket of night, I am safe and warm. In the night are dreams. Dreams of all the things that can’t be done in my body because of its restrictions of fatigue and pain. I indulge my soul’s longing to fly. The day hurts my eyes with its stinging brightness. Music hurts my ears with its loudness and overstimulation. I like the quiet of night. I have chronic fatigue syndrome, fibromyalgia, and bipolar disorder. They operate as independent sine waves. At any time, I can be exhausted and manic, energized and depressed. Every combination imaginable. The cycles can last for days or months or even years. It’s an odd assortment. I had a mate. I ha...

The Last of the Irish Rover: A Tribute to Shane MacGowan

Sad to say I must be on my way So buy me beer and whiskey ’cause I’m going far away (far away) I’d like to think of me returning when I can To the greatest little boozer and to Sally MacLennane — Shane MacGowan, “Sally MacLennane” This is written as a tribute to British-born Irish singer-songwriter and musician Shane MacGowan who died November 30, 2023 at the age of 65. I have no privileged knowledge or insight into the man’s life or work, indeed I knew little about him until recently. I want to focus on the impact Shane MacGowan has had on my life. His death has given me a great deal to think about in a number of areas, including political history, national identity, resilience, mental health, and addiction. If you’re interested in more, I’ve included a list of resources at the end of this article. Fairytale of New York I must declare up front that I was never into punk rock, though it broke onto the music scene in the mid-70s when I was in my teens. To the extent that I ...

I Wish Our Friendship Could Keep You Safe But I Know it Can't. And That's Okay.

TW: Mention of suicide

Our Top Posts of the Month (December 2023)

Check out our top posts for the past month. Posts are listed by the number of page views they attracted during the month, most popular first. Shhhhhhh! A Friend’s Guide to Secrets The Box on the Shelf: A Strategy for Handling Difficult Issues and Situations How to Use a Spreadsheet for Wellness and Self-Care 2023: My Year in Photos and Blog Posts I Hope We All Make It Present and Correct: How to Do the Right Thing at the Right Time Time Management for the Stationery Lover (One More Filofax for the Road) Our Top Posts of the Month (November 2023) I’m Weak and What’s Wrong With That? How to Write the Best Acknowledgement Page for Your Book Our most visited pages were: Contact Us Resources About Us Our books News and Appearances Testimonials   Photo by Koushik Chowdavarapu at Unsplash.  

2023: My Year in Photos and Blog Posts

I used to spend hours with my diary each December reviewing the year that was coming to a close. I’d recall favourite moments, examine things that hadn’t gone so well, and summarise my key relationships and friendships. I still write a daily journal, but I’ve not done that kind of end of year review since I posted my 2016 retrospective here on our blog. For a few years, I shared a “things I’d quite like to do” blog post in January, with a review at the end of the year. If you’re interested, you can check how I got on with the Six Things I’d Quite Like to Do in 2017 , the Seven Things I’d Quite Like to Do in 2018 , and the Six Things I’d Quite Like to Do in 2019 . Any plans I might have had for 2020 were overtaken by events. That December, I shared one photo and one blog post for each month of a year that no one could have predicted . I did the same thing at the end of 2021 and at the end of 2022 . Continuing the tradition, here’s my personal look back at 2023 in photos and bl...

Time Management for the Stationery Lover (One More Filofax for the Road)

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair. — Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities In a recent blog post I discussed how people have different ideas about the most appropriate time to do things. This led me to ponder how people keep track of time. Specifically, how I keep track of what’s going on in my life and the things that have happened to me. As we approach the close of the year, I thought it would be interesting to review some of the time management methods I’ve employed over the course of my lifetime. This post was further inspired by me buying — and almost immediately regretting buying — yet another Filofax planner. More on that later! Personal Diary Regular readers will know that I’ve kept a daily diary since I was fourteen ...