Tag: writing
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The Sign That Broke the Silence..
The Sign That Broke the Silence. It wasn’t just a sign. It was a tipping point. Yes, it was a ridiculous, passive-aggressive, glaring little monument to dysfunction but on a deeper level, it was a mirror. It reflected back all the things I had been swallowing for years. Not just the injustice or the inheritance…
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Episode 58 – An Idiot’s Guide to Identifying Evil Relatives (Without a Priest)…
It’s a well-documented phenomenon in certain bloodlines and mine’s no exception – that one poor sod is born rotten to the core. Not a lovable rogue. Not a harmless gobshite. No, this one’s a proper, Grade-A certified b*****d. In our house, we affectionately call him Bully. Now, you might be thinking ‘Every family’s got one‘.…
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The Day the Playbook Came Out…
I remember the day my dad died. Not the way people usually mean when they say that. Not the moment itself, not the news or the numbness or the weird, hollow ache that settles somewhere between your chest and your stomach. I mean the room. The way the air felt. The way the so-called mighty…
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Episode 57 – The Long Con: Nurse Fanny and Bully’s Big Score…
The Long Con: Nurse Fanny and Bully’s Big Score ‘Or’ How Two Adult Siblings Outsmarted the Naïve and Overwhelmed(But Only For a While). You know what they say, hindsight is 20/20. But in our case, hindsight had prescription bifocals, a flashlight and still missed the plot entirely. It wasn’t until my brother Saul and I…
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Confessions of a Failed Nurse and Future Rebel…
The Ones Who Didn’t Fit the Box… When I was growing up in Ireland and I won’t say how many years ago because some of you might faint, it was a very different world to the one we’re in now. Back then, every family had a few solid ambitions for their children. You didn’t need…
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I Asked for a Day, They Offered Me the Door…
Families have a way of shaping the truth to suit themselves. Sometimes it’s subtle. Other times it’s right there in front of you, dressed up as kindness, practicality or ‘what’s best for everyone’. And over time, you start to realize that what looks like help is often just a polite way of saying we’d prefer…
UNDER THE WILL... OVER THE DRAMA... 