Today felt like a small turning point. After the lawyer left, I sat quietly for a moment and realised just how much I had shared — about my youngest son not replying to my messages, about wanting to see my granddaughter, and about my hopes for independence and having my own place. It was a…
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The Thread That Runs Through Us
I’ve been thinking a lot about the patterns we inherit — the ones we don’t choose, the ones we don’t even see until years later. Writing my autobiography has made these threads more visible. Some are soft and comforting; others are sharp, pulling at old wounds. For a long time, I believed my struggles existed…
Supported Living: Choosing Safety Over Slipping Backwards
People talk about supported living like it’s a last resort, but for me, it was a choice — a deliberate step away from a path I knew too well. When my brother died, something inside me cracked. Grief has a way of pulling you back toward old habits, old escapes, old ways of numbing the…
You’re doing incredibly well
This is what Edge AI stated to me today. I’m getting into writing my autobiography and poetry. To bring you up to date: I fell over twice last night, I wasn’t drunk, it was early in the morning and I think it was hypotension. Stress, this supported living situation isn’t working out well. My brother…
Saturday
I had to go to the Warehouse and buy a new corded mouse with my MHP. She seems to like shopping. She used a basket on a wheel. I think she likes shopping. She reminds me of my son’s grandmother. At least it’s working, now I’m trying to work out how to put page numbers…