Editor's Journal

How I Turned Into a Pot Plant and Suffered My Own Neglect

How I Turned Into a Pot Plant and Suffered My Own Neglect

How I turned into a pot plant and suffered my own neglect™ 🌿
This month’s mood: blanket burrito. This month’s sponsor: definitely not SheWee™ (but it should be).
Bugsy ate something he shouldn’t have. I avoided the dishes and my soul is on a hunger strike.
But hey, the plants are thriving.

Kate

Kate

I’ve spent two decades navigating chronic illness, mental health, and self-recovery. This blog is where I share what’s real—no perfection, just honesty, growth, and community. You’re not alone here. 💛

“It’s taken me over a decade of stumbling, growing, and sometimes even breaking, but I’ve finally reached a place where I can honestly say—I’m proud of who I am. All the hard work, the lessons, and the mess? It’s all been worth it.”

How I Turned Into a Pot Plant and Suffered My Own Neglect

How I Turned Into a Pot Plant and Suffered My Own Neglect

How I turned into a pot plant and suffered my own neglect™ 🌿
This month’s mood: blanket burrito. This month’s sponsor: definitely not SheWee™ (but it should be).
Bugsy ate something he shouldn’t have. I avoided the dishes and my soul is on a hunger strike.
But hey, the plants are thriving.

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The Comfort of a Clan: Why It Still Takes a Village

The Comfort of a Clan: Why It Still Takes a Village

Feeling overwhelmed, exhausted, or like you have to do everything alone? This heartfelt post explores the power of community, the struggle to ask for help, and what it really means to find your tribe when living with chronic illness.

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Fatigue, Bugs, and a Midday Nap I’ll Never Get

Fatigue, Bugs, and a Midday Nap I’ll Never Get

A doctor once explained it like this: if someone without a chronic illness wants to understand what MS fatigue feels like, they’d need to stay awake and upright for three days straight. Then try to function like a normal human. That’s the starting line.

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The Quiet Feels Different Without Bugs

The Quiet Feels Different Without Bugs

My dog, Bugsy, is at my mum’s this weekend. He’s being absolutely spoiled, no doubt about that. She’s probably made him scrambled eggs and is reading him bedtime stories while feeding him snacks off a Royal Doulton plate. He’s living the high life. I know he’s happy. I know she adores having him. And he loves her too.

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