Into Africa

Once more into the breach.

Which is to say, I’m off to Africa again for the next couple of months, so intermittent to nonexistent posting will continue for the foreseeable future. Imma try and update with stuff from there, but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯




“When he tried later on to piece his recollections together, he learnt a great deal about himself from what other people told him. He had mixed up incidents and explained events as due to circumstances which existed only in his imagination.” – Crime and Punishment, Fyodor Dostoevsky.

The waiting room was good, as far as these things go. The hospital was a new one, maybe a year or so old, and everything in it, bar the people, seemed just as new. Chairs of all shapes and sizes, firm and soft and high and angled and reclined, some modicum of comfort for every type of ailment or disorder, all laid out in neat rows on gleaming plastic not-wood. There was wood panelling softening the harsh lines of walls and whiteness, soft blue colours masking the clinical efficiency hidden behind the low desk.

Everyone was astonishingly helpful. I was asked several times by passing nurses if I wanted to go into a room and lie down. Every time, I shook my head to clear the fog, muttered something noncommittal. The chairs were fine.

They weren’t fine, but at least there was no risk of me passing out when I was sitting.

Continue reading “Translucence”


Just a quick note to say I’m currently recovering from surgery, so won’t be posting anything for an indefinite period. I’m fine, just incapable of really writing.

Although maybe a morphine diary could be the avant garde stream-of-consciousness piece the world’s been waiting for.

In Zambia

Sorry, y’all, didn’t really mention that I was going to be doing volunteer work in Zambia from November to February.

So, greetings from the real Africa! In the meantime, find some of my ramblings over at the official team blog here.

Because internet here is hella expensive and slow, so I can’t be arsed doing more than one blog at a time.

Talk to Someone

You’re always told to talk to someone about mental health stuff. Don’t let it stay bottled up, let it out, don’t let it all fester. Go talk to someone.

There are phonelines to call, people whose entire job it is to sit and listen to concerns and neuroses and worries. Others who get training, have years of experience listening, understanding. There are levels of service, all sorts of professionals who your doctor can point you at, therapists and psychiatrists, counselors and psychologists. There’s so many people out there willing to listen, paid to listen. Go talk to someone.

For some, there’re family and friends, people who care and worry and want to help. People who’ll notice when you’re not yourself, who’ll realise something’s not right. People who’ll insist that they want to listen, that they’re there if you ever have anything you need to get off your chest. Go talk to someone.

Maybe you don’t. Maybe you find some other way, you start a blog or a journal, you pour your thoughts and your feelings out and try to explain what it is, what the problem is, why you feel so terrible. Maybe you paint or draw or sing or run or whatever, trying to drive the thoughts out of your head and into somewhere else, somewhere they aren’t constantly circling one another in your mind like a flock of vultures waiting to tear into the barely breathing body of your psyche.

Continue reading “Talk to Someone”