I've moved over to medium

You can find all my latest posts here.

See you on a different side*.

* Last time I wrote 'see you on the other side' I had at least 5 messages from people thinking I was literally checking out. This was before I told anyone about my depression. Maybe it was more obvious than I thought.

What if I fall?

Call it an amicable separation or a good natured parting (f you need to channel your inner Gwynnie it's a conscious uncoupling and our friendship will follow this path) but however friendly the end of a relationship, there's no guarantee it will be pain free. If anything the pain is intensified - after all if you still care for someone, love them even, saying goodbye is bound to be hard. 

There are lots of thoughts spinning around in my head this week.

"Am I doing the right thing?"
"Is this a big mistake?"
"Will I regret this?"
"Do I now have to cook all the meals?"
"Why didn't I take custody of the Sky box?"

All perfectly normal I think. There's really no right answer, only a right for now answer and this situation is exactly that - right for now.

Sitting in my brand new box - small and almost perfect - it does get lonely as the light fades. Fortunately I don't currently have a sofa to miss curling up on and beanbags might be fun when you're 8 but when you're 45 they're simply another reminder that getting up from the floor is difficult to do with any semblance of grace. There's nobody here to laugh at my clumsy 'tuck and roll' technique. Aside from the neighbours who could look through the window because I don't have all my curtains up yet. So far they don't seem that interested.


With week 1 of 2017 now done and dusted, it's fair to say I've packed a lot into it. Bring on the next 51 weeks; I'm ready for you. And although I'm terrfied that I might fall, the alternative is worth the risk.