May. 11th, 2017

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I haven't been writing in my paper journal. Not sure why, might have to sit down and write about it to find out... Haven't been posting here either, although the reasons feel different to me. Maybe a sense of feeling less connected, or having less to say that's important to broadcast or get feedback on. Anyway, here are some links.

The Realities of Going No Contact with Abusive Family by Miranda Jayne Boyd. I exchange email with my mom once a year. Haven't spoken to my dad in decades. Nice to see the occasional piece of writing that acknowledges that no-contact is a thing.

The glass of dirty water: working with shame sociopolitically on racereflections.co.uk. Powerful metaphor for working with shame in a social rather than personal context.
I have used the above ideas in my practice by asking women, to think of shame as a glass of dirty or unsanitary water that has been and, indeed continues to be handed to them to drink. The choice of the word handed here is purposeful. It aims to establish a boundary or some distance between shame and the person who experiences it.


Previous two links via [personal profile] silveradept.

How to Embrace Living in the Unknown by Rachel Barenblat. She's writing about the process of divorce, but it's relevant to the US political situation as well.

How to Spot Fascism Before It's Too Late by Maia Kobabe. Beautifully drawn, gentle comic about an old person who grew up in a fascist country, and a young person struggling to understand what is happening in the US.

Blood Trauma by Nadia Owusu. A 30 year old woman writes about her mother leaving when she was 2 years old and its effects on her, in a way that's emotionally connected and not overwhelming (for me).

On being a fat medical student, at the start of our metabolism module at Raspberry Stethoscope.
And to those reading this who are fat patients, I want you to know that I see you. I see the times your heart sank as the new GP asked you to jump on the scales. I see the aches and pains you’ve put off getting treatment for because you know just what the doctor will say, and I’m so sorry. Medicine is not always a kind, compassionate profession when it comes to interfacing with people whose bodies look like yours and mine. But there are many wonderful doctors, nurses and students I’ve encountered since starting medical school who are trying to change that.

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Sonia Connolly

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