Showing posts from 2023

Triggers: One More Light not Last Resort

“Should have stayed, are the signs I ignored.” Triggers. A “trigger warning”, normally a very short one if you’re listening to a podcast, is to let you know that what is about to be mentioned might upset you more than other people due to either your past traumas or a weak constitution. So I thought, and in a way I was right, but I'm wrong. Trigger warnings always seemed like pandering to pussies, to me. I have seen death, I’ve seen cancer, shootings and old age rip the life from people. I survived mentally, mostly, until I tried not to, but I lucked out and didn’t die. Grow up, make a joke about it and move on. It all goes away in the end, both meta and physically. Recently I had a friend kill herself and as someone who tried the same thing and apparently isn’t very good at it, it hit me much harder than I expected. People die, it should be a right but it shouldn't be one mistake. Anna’s death was a gut punch worse than any other and that includes my closest (although he was

A Eulogy

“Hello lovely.” A fellow “mature” philosophy student, Anna adored alliteration. Even, dare I say, found it sexy. Sorry I could only manage three words my dear. Fiercely intelligent, a fellow philosophy graduate from my Uni and a person who would, I hope, have liked this reflection, recently had a full stop on breathing. Anna loved dogs, much like Hitler. She’d a sense of humour too and would appreciate me making that comparison. Anna was bloody funny. Brave yet wayward, my pal was always passionate: boasting a son she couldn’t love more, but struggled with the realities of. He was an excellent kid last time I saw him, despite her motherly complaints. Anna’s dog died recently. Her ex died recently. These things take their toll, and I know she loved them both deeply. Her dog was amazing, I never met her ex but her love was unconditional and everlasting. We tended to speak and meet between partners and/or mental health troubles. That was our bond and I now regret it wasn’t firmer. Posthum