Take Care – a self-care post

I was inspired to write this after reading Girly Juice (Kate Sloan)’s excellent post on strange self-care in a time of terror.

Self-care (or coping, as they are sometimes one and the same) as Kate points out, is unique from person to person. What works for you might not work for me, and vice versa. With that in mind, here’s some of the shit that’s helped me in the past two weeks – hopefully, some of these bits will inspire you to do what you can do for yourself or even help you with finding something new.

I love you.  You matter. I’m with you in this fight.


Confession – I am not the greatest when it comes to drawing things. And I’m also not the greatest at allowing myself to do something for me. But that mindset took a bit of a shift recently, when I discovered the work of Ruby Etc.

Her stuff made me pick up pencil and paper, and lemme tell you, I’m still shite at drawing but fucking hell it feels nice to just let go and doodle what I can’t put into words.

Challenge (and general retro TV)

This is a very UK thing – there’s a channel called Challenge which is basically a treasure trove of UK game show repeats. The other day, I watched a Wheel of Fortune celebrity Christmas special in which they all wished me a happy 1989.

It’s similar to watching random episodes of old TV shows. A visual comfort blanket in the form of Tequila and Bonetti or ER.

Nail polish

Red lipstick is self-care. And so is nail polish. In any colour, really.

Scary media

Whether in book form or in film form, horror can be helpful with alleviating anxiety for some of us. It’s a genre I’ve turned to time and time again (along with sci-fi/fantasy) for a strange kind of comfort. Hit me up for recommendations, if you’re feeling getting lost in something spooky.


Film. The other love of my life. The day after the referendum, I went to see The Secret Life of Pets. In the last week, I’ve barely held it together through Arrival and Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. Film is, along with music and books, essential. I could write for the rest of my life and far beyond that about how film matters, but for the purposes of this post I’m keeping it simple. It matters. Entertainment is not (and will never be) a mere trivial distraction from outside shit.

Hot chocolate and a book to read

Speaks for itself.

The “My Dad Wrote a Porno” podcast

I have gone on record on Twitter as saying that My Dad Wrote a Porno basically saved my life, and that is no fucking lie. If you’re new to it, MDWAP (for short) is the brainchild of Jamie Morton who, after discovering his dad had written and self-published a hilariously bad erotic novella called Belinda Blinkeddecided to share his misery and embarrassment with his two mates Alice Levine and James Cooper. And also the world, in podcast format.

ILB and I started listening to MDWAP not long after the referendum. It was a laugh we both sorely needed, and we binged season one at a breakneck speed, finishing in time for the start of season two. It is horrifying, cringe worthy, hilarious, wonderful fun;

Let me know if you have any unconventional self-care methods, if you want any horror recommendations or if you’ve joined in on the fun with My Dad Wrote a Porno. Similarly, let me know of any fundraisers, charities, people and places you want to give a signal boost to or come on here to talk about.

And I will say so again: I love you. You’re not alone. You matter.

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  1. I just wanted to say thank you. Ive been reading your posts for a while now and it really helps knowing that im not alone in how I feel! Please keep writing, I look forward to the emails popping up on my phone! Becca x

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