Petal and stone

Soft and hard, like my day. Three long conversations with people in differing stages of mental ill-health, and some shorter ones. All the usual admin. Sitting in the dark cupboard all day: my choice, but a tough one. I work better in there than at home.

When someone tells me nowadays that they can’t sleep, I feel my way into asking, gently, how much they are eating. Often it’s just one meal, or one item of food, once a day. Disordered eating is much more prevalent than I realised a few years ago. It’s part of what I might call a silent tsunami of undereating. We have food security in the UK as a whole, but precious little emotional security.

After work I walked home, noticing it had been raining. I made chicken soup, ate too much nougat, and watched Pilgrimage on the BBC. Steve doesn’t seem to be getting any better. I’m busy googling flights for my next little break ….