Latest Posts
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Writing is my therapy—a way to untangle the chaos in my head. It lets me process emotions, make sense of my thoughts, and find clarity when life feels overwhelming. Sometimes the words pour out raw and messy, other times I refine them—but always, writing helps me be honest with myself.
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I got some great news yesterday — it seems my ex has finally put the wheels in motion for the divorce, and the caravan has now been listed. Honestly, I can’t put into words how good it feels to know this chapter is nearly over. No more contact, no more excuses. Just done. Looking back, it still amazes me how quickly everything collapsed. One moment we were “fine,” the next I was being treated like the worst person she’d ever met. I’ll never fully understand it, except to say her behaviour was classic narcissism — gaslighting, projection, control, casting me…
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The past few weeks have been a turning point. I’m calmer, happier, and starting to feel like myself again. I’ve been reconnecting with people, building stronger bonds with my daughter, and even pushing forward at work. Life still has its challenges, but I’m determined not to let the past define me — instead, I’m using it to grow stronger.
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When Jeremy Corbyn and Zarah Sultana announced they were forming a new political party, the predictable response from political commentators was to warn of “splitting the left vote.” But here’s the thing — Labour hasn’t been left-wing for a long time. Under its current leadership, it has become a centre-ground party, a watered-down version of the Conservatives, seemingly more concerned with appeasing hostile media outlets than representing the working class. Calling today’s Labour “the left” is an exercise in nostalgia, not accuracy.
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I can say this with absolute confidence: Every single thing I’ve written on this blog is true. Every experience. Every feeling. Everything I said she said. Everything I said she did. Not a single word was made up.
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Despite what stories she wants to tell people to justify what she did. I’m a good fucking person. I’m not the monster she wants to frame me as. I took her on with a newborn child and a toddler. I helped bring them up. I provided and nurtured. When the relationship broke down and she convinced me I was the problem, I let her stay in what was originally my home, because that was the right thing to do by the kids. I went and looked for somewhere else to live, I started again so she didn’t have too. All…
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There’s a funny thing that happens when you tell your side of a story — especially when it doesn’t paint someone in the best light. People who once claimed to stand for truth, fairness, or loyalty suddenly become very selective about when those values apply. Especially if the person they’re defending is the one who did the damage. My most recent post hit a nerve. I know that, because the reaction wasn’t just emotional — it was strategic. Fake ratings, automated downvotes, deliberate attempts to tank the visibility of something that simply told the truth. Not slander. Not rage. Just…
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Looks like one of my posts struck a nerve — someone’s been using bots or automated tools to review bomb my blog with 1-star ratings.
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I’m at a point now where I both love her and hate her. And the part of me that still loves her? I fucking hate that too. Because yeah, she had good qualities. She was amazing at planning things — days out, holidays, birthdays, Christmas — all the things I’ve always been crap at. She managed the house, looked after the kids, kept everything ticking over. Financially, I was a disaster, and she handled all the bills. We were in a good place because of her, and I never failed to tell her how much I appreciated that. Did I…
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After three weeks off work to deal with everything going on, I wasn’t sure I was ready to return. My head was still full — looping over everything that had happened. But that final weekend before I returned, something quietly shifted. There wasn’t a single moment I could pinpoint, no lightbulb epiphany. But I was out with friends, laughing, talking, smiling — and I suddenly thought: this is me. I recognised myself again. I’ve always struggled in social situations — I’m autistic — but I showed up. I made the effort. I could enjoy things once I found my rhythm.…
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