The village I grew up in was small and isolated — there was a pub, and one single shop. All my friends, bar one, lived in surrounding villages that were on main roads and bus routes or surrounded by houses. But for us, every time we needed to get home from school, or college, or a late shift at work, it meant facing this road. There was a big farmers field on one side, full of long grass and a stretch of woodland on the other. Whenever I was walking on it alone, I’d count on the fact that the…


I am a worrier — I imagine that anyone who knows me knows this, or anyone who follows me on Twitter.

Once my old boss said to me “everything you tweet about seems anxious”, well, that’s because it generally was.

I’ve had this my entire life, sometimes it’s fine and I can live with it and once it became pretty much all consuming to try and sit on it and just function day to day, but more on that later.

It’s strange because I worry about everything I think so that bad things can’t creep up on me — they…

Helenwhitehouse

Worrier, writer, forever a bleeding heart

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