Blog

Lately, life seems to be settling into a rhythm that actually feels good. I’m still waiting to hear back from the doctors about my ongoing exhaustion, and that uncertainty can be exhausting in itself.

It’s a strange old feeling when your head finally starts to feel lighter, but your body still insists on playing the world’s longest soap opera.

New meds, new mindset, same knackered body. But progress is progress. A brutally honest update on mental health, meds, and learning to celebrate the small wins.

I’ve been at some low points in my life, but the past few weeks took me to a place I haven’t seen in a long time.

This morning, I walked into the local village hall and, for the first time in thirty years, sat down for a Sunday church service.

There were three months last year that, on the surface, looked like something out of a soft-focus film.

I’ve always believed in free speech. Always. It’s a cornerstone of any decent society — the right to speak your mind, challenge the status quo, ask difficult questions, and have your say. But yesterday… yesterday tested my patience with that principle.

There’s a certain kind of fear that comes with putting yourself out there.

I’ve been circling this truth for a long time, and it’s time to stop pretending I don’t see it.

Yesterday I tackled my first ever live football commentary, and somehow it was a success despite a few chaotic moments. No major disasters, no dead air, just a lot of nerves, a lot of heart, and one very relieved commentator.