Ash Ford-McAllister

  This week, I've been feeling anxious with no observable reason - literally, waking up in an anxiety spiral that continues through the day. Yesterday, I realised what was going on; this specific week of the year - not "the run up to Christmas", but specifically "the 18th-22nd of December" has been the scene of several major life impacts over several years: . 16yrs  ago on the 18th December was the date of my first testosterone injection - and the beginning of the end of any semblance of a good relationship with my mother. . 12yrs ago on the 20th December, having had to move back home after almost a decade away to care for my terminally ill father, my mother assaulted me at knifepoint, causing me to have to flee, with just a backpack of what I could gather while she was trying to kick in my bedroom door, and leaving my dogs behind. I ended up sleeping rough, calling every local friend I knew might be able to get out to me and help me, for two days continuously -...

  There's a special kind of anger, resentment, frustration, and sadness - a conglomerate, holistic feeling we don't yet have a single word for in English (the Irish "fearg" - pronounced 'fae-rak' - would be a close option, being the word for "passion-driven anger", which includes resentment; the Irish word "br ón" - pronounced 'brone' - translates as "sorrow", so "fearg-br ón" would be an appropriate word, and will be the one I use for this particular set of emotions going forward)   that comes from seeing, in real time, with highly personal impact, that you're being passed over for meaningful, well-paid work by people who, apparently, either can't or won't read key reports. I read the Cass Review  when it was published - with no one paying me, no opportunities for paid work, or even a role as a Trustee or Non-Executive Director, as a recognition for doing so. I read the Cass Review even though it cau...