Tag Archives: mental health

Finding the right rhythm for blues

You know you’re not quite yourself when music isn’t offering much solace. That’s some serious shizzle if, like me, your lifelong love affair with melody is currently dialled down to a low peep. A recent trawl through some all-time favourite choons (and god knows, there’s a lot of them) couldn’t locate a single soothing rhythm

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Sleepwalking in small business

Blurry, foggy and fuzzy. Everything feels so indistinct these days. It’s difficult to grasp anything tangible, let alone find a break in the clouds to gaze at distant horizons. Never mind taking the long view, when it comes to commerce I can barely see into next week. No, I’ve not ground to a halt or

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The Covid cling on

Throw me a lifebuoy FFS, I’m drowning. Well okay, then not drowning, but definitely doing a lot of treading water to keep the auld napper above the waves. Some days my personal pandemic psychology is rock solid, buoyant even. However this week, spirits have taken a bit of a dip, partly because the sun has returned

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The birdsong blues

It all began with a blackbird singing in the dead of night. Last night, to be exact. Not content with living through the disruption caused by the biggest global crisis known in my lifetime, my menopausal combustion engine is firing on all cylinders, causing restless, energy-sapping, sweat-drenched sleep. And so it was at 3.05am in the deep, dark night

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Missing in action

Two weeks on the Dalmatian coast did wonders for this old wordsmith’s suntan, but a long overdue holiday unexpectedly left me with a yawning gap in my life. This spiritual hole is not so much existential crisis, simply a severe case of ennui. That feels a bit wrong. Holidays are supposed to invigorate and energise, aren’t they? I’m

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Pretty vacant

February might mean that love is in the air (for those who are lucky enough to be wrapped in its warm, adoring embrace), but this is also the month when this wee one-woman enterprise always starts to run out of steam. As the natural world suddenly springs into action with crocuses and daffs turning their radiant

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The busyness business

Frazzled, fried and fed up. Truth talking, sometimes this small business malarkey takes a heavy toll. There are episodes in enterprise which are just not a laugh. Times when you’re clinging on by your fingernails and praying your shredded nerves can last just long enough ’til the next chance to draw breath presents itself. Times when

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ACEs high

Don’t look back in anger. Or so goes the Oasis song. And they’ve got a point. For the sake of our our mental health it’s probably not a good idea to dwell on the past.  Maybe more of us should open those cupboards and let the skeletons loose. Maybe we ought to find ways to forgive those

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Attention, mes petits…

Ecoutez, mes enfants. In other words, listen up kids. Cos here’s something a wee bit different from the Word Up blog HQ for the New Year. It’s not a blog as you know it, it’s a phog. Yep, a phog. See, I’ve been torn between writing up a storm about the merits of being a

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A solid state of mind

It’s no laughing matter. Getting sick when you’re running your own business, that is. Touch wood, cross fingers and rub a rabbit’s foot but in the year since embarking on the insanity that is self-employment I have been tickety-boo healthwise. In fact, I have been feeling a whole lot better in body and mind since

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