Phew. Well, this is fun, isn’t it? It was nice that we were briefly able to tell ourselves that 2021 would be less of a pile of dried out dog turds in the corner of a muddy garden, but that was but a dream. The world is fucked! Completely fucked. I don’t even really know how to talk about it; I’m kind of out of words.

It certainly feels weird right now to try and write smut: to write it or promote it or expect people to read it. Instead I am going to write about the things I do and have done to help me stop spiralling when I’m feeling anxious. None of this is rocket science; it isn’t even really for the people who might read this (although obviously if any of it is helpful that would make me very happy)- it’s for me, to remind myself that, whether the issue is fascists running riot in the Capitol or the gremlins amok in my brainhole, I do know what to do when things start feeling tough.


Good food. Delicious, mildly (but not wildly) nutritious, ribsticky food. I don’t eat processed sugar at the moment, so I’m not into chocolate or sweeties, but I believe in the restorative powers of carbohydrates with all my heart. Yesterday my dinner was wholewheat pasta with tomato sauce, roast vegetable and goat’s cheese and it was transcendent. I know brown pasta can feel a bit worthy but combined with fat steak-y chunks of mushroom and cheese it just felt toothsome and comforting and… Pasta gives me joy.

see also: felafel in fluffy toasted white bread with loads of garlic sauce and sweet potato chunks! Muesli with hazelnut milk, apple sauce and cocoa powder! Dal and Naan and salad! Rye bread with claggy dunes of peanut butter, a banana and a half of litre of cherry diet coke because I am increasingly developing a dependence on that shit and I am absolutely fine with this development because it’s not heroin or cheap vodka!

You’ll notice that none of these meals involve any amount of cooking beyond the odd bit of chopping. I do like cooking for other people, I don’t really much care for doing it for myself. These are all low stakes meals that I know will make me feel like I’m looking after myself when my batteries are running low but which I won’t binge on until my trousers hurt and I hate myself (this is also important!)


I think this speaks for itself. I have written about my lovely pastel nest- it is absolutely serving its purpose.


Some of my friends are very funny and will make me laugh at the Horrah of It All even despite myself. Some of my friends will remind me to place my feet on the ground and breathe deeply until I’m feeling less horribly high- pitched. Some of my friends will tell me I’m doing really well when I feel like I’m not doing *at all* well. Some of my friends will send me pictures of their cats in comical costumes. Sometimes my friends will need any or all of the above from me and I do my best to be of assistance wherever I’m able (and I’m so excited about the prospect of having my own cat to dress up!)


I am by no means the Dalai Lama: I joke that I once made up an entire new meditation called the Mindfulness of Fisting after realising I must have spent probably fifteen minutes of a twenty minute meditation thinking about sex. Other things I have spent too long thinking about when I should have been focusing on my breath: Anton Du Beke from Strictly Come Dancing, the children’s TV Programme Justin’s House and why, on one particular morning, my hair felt so much like a hat.

I’m not great at meditating. I don’t do it often enough, I get distracted and horny, I fall asleep, I drool on myself, I fidget. But I do it anyway: put on a timer or a guided meditation (Insight Timer is great), put my phone down, and just do it. It doesn’t empty my brain, I don’t have amazing visions or go into incredible transports of rapture (I kinda did in the beginning? But that was just to get me hooked, I think; the human brain is crafty!) But it does give me more of an ability to keep my gob shut for a few seconds when I need to not tell someone to go fuck themselves on a rusty pole- which is 40 hours a week at least, I work in customer services- and I’m much, much more likely to be able to say nice things to myself when I’m flailing if I’ve been meditating lately.


I specified D3 because otherwise you might think I meant banging! HaHA as IF. Seriously though, vitamin D3 is the ABSOLUTE shit. I’d be on the floor this winter if it wasn’t for Vitamin D3.


Blindboy, You’re Wrong About, Adam Buxton, American Sex, Multiamory (although it’s very earnest and I can only do small doses), Love and Radio, The Bald and the Beautiful.


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