Nylon and Mirrors

I was recently hospitalised, and bestowed upon by a new diagnosis. One that has bubbled away for 2 years or more, un-named. Whilst you probably don’t need any more updates about my life, this is my first attempt at getting linguistic about the matter. Life has changed drastically, and with it  the content of this blog has altered once more. I am focused on keeping it real, so whilst I never wanted to exert too much written energy on the pitfalls of living with chronic illness, we must both be here for a reason? I suggest reading it if you’re feeling bored, or linguistic, or perhaps just strangely curious about matters of the mind and stomach.

I took in the length of the full bathroom mirror, jolting at my emptiness. Light reflected in pointed pits. Hips, ribs, collar. Angles leering out like frail, sour sailors. A gown stitched of bone, and skin. Retreating to the shower, hot water ran down my back as I drew the curtain around myself. Hidden from glass by nylon. Hidden from myself, until downward glanced back up. Drapes, denial. Hope. Hope Hollow. Coming and going. Wilted, and sprouting. My skinny secret, half digested and weary. Outside the mirror blushed with steam. Reflections waiting hungrily. Inside, trails of salt turned shower water milky on my cheeks. But in the shower tears aren’t really there.

I took in the length of the full mirror, jolting at my emptiness. Light reflected in pointed pits. Hips, ribs, collar. Angles leering out like frail, sour sailors. A gown stitched of bone, and skin.

Nature has cloaked my adversities in appearance. They are well lived, but hard to live in. Well hidden, but well felt. My story is a secret one. My history, a lean one. But for a bum that teases the next size up. Tits that seem to oscillate like small lilies, confused in the moonlight.  An in-tact body you could say, just a playground for the insecurities that plague many young things. But now, my carefully crafted illusion, my expert proficiency, crack-hiding, weakness-wrapping, is not so hidden. My exterior ‘normality’ has been encroached, my interior shambles scrambled. My bones in the mirror have not lied. I no longer just feel it, I can see that I am sick.

Mental Health Campaigns: Enough Corner Crouching

Here’s your weekly dose of public toilets, hideously gleeful people and wee smelling mental health campaigns. Ugh. Enjoy.

If you’ve ever sat on a public toilet and stared at the back of the cubicle door, you’ve more than likely seen the hastily taped poster of the mental health sort, wee-pheromones and all.

More specifically though, you may have seen the infamous  posters of the ‘sad people’. Typically sad looking people crouching in dark corners. I swear every second public toilet has at least one sad croucher. And by now, like me, you may be beginning to wonder whether there’s a sub species of human out there. One that gets off on dark corner crouching or something. Or maybe it’s just me. 

A Mindful Garden

The beautiful Mind Garden grown over at Fiddle & Spoon

This week Mud & Bralettes stumbled upon a beautiful Mind Garden, propagated by the inspiring lady over at Fiddle & Spoon.  This divine lass approaches her image-making, designing and writing with a sensitivity and intelligence I’ve long admired. Whether her subject is pie, a sweet feline, inspiring objects of design or components of the everyday. If this collection sparks your curiosity, taste buds or cat lady (or man) tendencies, sidle over and check out the stunning internet boudoir of Fiddle & Spoon and read about her experience creating a Mind Garden.  I was truly humbled to see such a beautiful and personal creation join the campaign to help spread awareness, hope and support for those suffering from depression.

“Illustrating the mind image was beautifully therapeutic, and encouraged me to think more about my own mind”. 

To learn more abut  Fren Garden and how to get involved with the campaign to help dissolve the stigma and stereotypes surrounding depression, pop by my earlier post. I encourage you to download the mind image template and create your own mind masterpiece! Everyone’s Mind Garden is unique! Follow Mud & Bralettes on Facebook or Instagram to keep up with the latest Fren Garden developments, or email me at mindgarden@mudandbralettes with any questions or feed back! I always love hearing from you!

XS

Sentenced Sweetly

Yesterday I was sentenced to an extra 30 years of life.                                                            

It was dusk on the final eve of our 6-day trek through the wilderness. Golden clouds turned viscous in the steel waters of Australia’s deepest lake about us. It was there on the shores of Lake St Claire that I turned to my Endocrinologist and asked him about my likely life expectancy.

You were probably hoping for something a little more romantic. But truth be told his socks were just as smelly as mine and we have a purely professional relationship. So what was I doing in the middle of the Tasmanian wilderness with a smelly-socked Endocrinologist?

Golden Spiced Oats with Figs, Blueberries and Macadamias

Porridge is a blank canvas.

I probably afford more attention to creating a delicious bowl of oats than other things like creating delicious assignments. Despite this, it’s a small preparation that has slowly become a weekly morning winter ritual. I experiment with different spices and milks and  come up with some form of yummy experiment. Below is the steaming bowl I inhaled this morning.  Why is it yellow? Well ground turmeric is the key to it’s beautiful golden hue! Previously I only used it in savoury dishes, but have expanded it repertoire and subtle flavour to  include sweeter things like porridge and fresh  chai.