This week, I would like to introduce you to Nikki Albert who runs the brainlessblogger blog. Nikki manages chronic migraines, fibromyalgia and major depressive disorder. Here’s her frank and insightful account of her story.
This week is an anniversary of sorts.
An anniversary of sorts that coincides with a famous horse race, The Melbourne Cup.
It marks the time I last skipped in front of the TV!
Here’s an update from that memorable day in November 2015….
This is me. The dreamer. The hungover. The fatigued. Daily specials on my menu of life. Here’s a taste…
Every morning, to varying degrees depending on how busy my day was previously, I wake in a fog. A pea soup kind of fog. Feeling like I’ve been somewhere half the night.
In another mad dream. With people I don’t know, writing the story as I go. Continue reading My daily specials of dreams, hangovers and fatigue
Adrenaline, my adrenergic tendencies and I have become very acquainted. It’s my side kick in life.
It’s a bit like your favourite tipple at the pub when someone asks ‘what’s your poison?’. You lap it up at the time but suffer from the effects of it big time when you’ve done it to excess. And having had to live with the excess side of things since 2014, when my body just went completely haywire, I’ve become quite knowledgeable about its impact.
I am a mother. I am a wife. I am a freelance consultant. I am actually quite a lot of bloody stuff. Now with a health doo dah thrown in.
As I continue to understand this thing I have, I continue to make strides (in a somewhat haphazard way) to battle against the old expectations of myself and to carve out the new me. Whatever that is. This week was another one of those weeks where I continued to make progress in rewriting my book of life…specifically my work life.
It was another one of those ‘old expectations’ weeks. The ‘old chestnut’ that pops up a lot. Continue reading Why breakfast events are history
Frustrated. Angry. Disappointed. Bloody over it.
Woke up this morning not in the best mood (can you tell?). Too many expletives to mention exited my mouth. Husband has slunk off to a quieter place. Though he did make me a cup of tea first. All because of my invisible illness. Continue reading Dealing with the invisible