Monthly Archives: January 2025

What do you mean ‘slightly fictionalised’?

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I thought I should fire this one out as a quick follow-up just so it’s very clear where honesty starts and stops:

If it’s funnier to embellish a conversation, I will.

I don’t want to hurt other people. Identities are kept private. I mean, I’m also pretending that I am completely anonymous. Sometimes these little lies help to tell a better truth. And keep me out of legal trouble.

I don’t owe anyone my mental health. I’m not really sure exactly what that means, other than I have boundaries. Some may argue I am not boundaried enough. I guess what I mean is that I will strive to maintain a healthy level of honesty. As in, healthy for me.

I’d like to think I err on the side of overly honest. This isn’t necessarily an enjoyable virtue. It doesn’t feel very virtuous. But it is what it is.

And voila: source of my avoidance. I just don’t see the point in being anything less than honest in a blog, and that is >shudder< I mean,
🥺*vulnerable face*🥺

>whispers< Social media.

Which is why I guess I needed some sort of YOLO moment to get going.

So yeah, mostly honest. But slightly fictionalised.

Oh, and speaking of social media:

https://www.instagram.com/p/DFBMHYIs1hF/?igsh=NzB3NzFqdmJjMTZ2

Ok, I think I’ve got it.

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I’m not sure what made today different.

Maybe it was the microdose of mushrooms. Museum dose.

Maybe I noticed how quickly I hoovered back three unmeasured doses of prescription cannabis that I cannot honestly say I have been using therapeutically. But still, it was prescribed.

Noting the speed felt familiar. An old equilibrium I used to chase. Or just like it.

I think somehow, even though it’s not a story I can remember reading. Even though it hardly feels like a story anyone would want to read. I just feel like it’s a story I have to tell.

Something just broke. I think it was my face hitting some sort of recovery/emotional rock bottom. Or I’ve got the dopamine just right.

I just think, fuck it. Yes, the world needs a neurodivergent, very honest (yet slightly fictionalised), let’s-call-it-compassionate variation of a recovery story.

Live! As it happens!

And if the world doesn’t need it, I still need to write it. So help me god I do not know WHY, but I honestly think I might explode if I don’t STOP thinking about doing it and START doing it.

SO. Here we are.

I think I’m good with that. Essentially…yes.
Right then, this is the first post.

Cheers,

Moppy