My mom would probably tell you it started with “Maddie Fatty.” That’s what a few kids in grade school dubbed me at the height of my chubby years. It’s true: my mother had to make special trips to Sears to buy my extra-large jeans; it’s also true that I’ve unconsciously blocked this first cut to my self-esteem from memory. I actually can’t remember…
For much of my life, alcoholism and depression alternately masked and exacerbated each other.
I worked in the music industry for over a decade as a writer and editor in San…
I’ve always been a glass half full kind of person. Of course I carry baggage around with me—things like, the death, depression, and suicide that were part of my family environment, or drugs and alcohol, relationships with parents, or just (as a British person) the pervasiveness of class…
I first felt it in the summer of 2014. I must have looked so strong back then. I’d just returned from a long trip to Japan, was working with high-profile clients, preparing to do a stint in New York, was getting my sailing licence — and every day, I felt a…
