“I hold my own with gibberish. I hold hands with donkeys.”

I’ve had a pretty full-on day. A summary of it would look a bit like this:

Travelling, laughing, banging, confronting, sobbing, regrouping, eating, reflecting, relaxing.

But I suppose as a blogger I should put in a bit more detail, so here goes.…

Just in case you thought my tics had moved away from the subject of Christmas, here’s a selection of new festive tics for March:

“Happy Christmas Harry Enfield.”

“Buck up Christmas tree.”

“You’re under arrest on suspicion of being a Christmas tree.”

I’m having a difficult evening tic-wise. I’m saying ‘fuck’ over and over again in the same monotonous voice, and it’s been driving me mad. Leftwing Idiot and Poppy were here, and I’d desperately wanted to enjoy a relaxing evening hanging out with them.…

Earlier on I was working at the nature garden. My job for the afternoon was to help the children finish a den they’ve been making out of willow. Leftwing Idiot was there helping. Most of the children who play regularly at the garden are familiar with me and my Tourettes.…

I explained a couple of days ago that I’d been thinking a lot about psychological factors that influence Tourettes. Thinking about my own mental wellbeing has meant that some of my archaic attitudes have been exposed. For example I find it hard to shake off the idea that there’s some sort of shame in having a mental health ‘problem’.…

I described in an earlier entry how I’ve been ticcing, ‘Mystery’ whenever I hurt myself. I’ve now started saying it whenever I see other people get hurt. Leftwing Idiot told me earlier that when he was watching a tense thriller with Poppy yesterday, she’d said, “I think they’re about to get mystery’d”.…

This afternoon I had another session of Habit Reversal Therapy (HRT). I’ve found the last couple of weeks of this difficult, not because of anything I’m being asked to do physically, but because of how it challenges the way I think about my tics.…

Fat Sister is currently working as a paediatrician in a hospital. She’s just told me that she’d called a baby a squirrel earlier on. It slipped out without any warning and she had no idea why. The baby’s mum hadn’t minded though, and she’d laughed as Fat Sister added, “Cute little squirrel”.…

“Russell broke the shower.”

Russell broke the Microwave.

The first of these is a genuine tic, the second is a description of what King Russell did this evening.
In fact he didn’t just break the microwave, he blew its door off.…