Inside My Head
May 24, 2026
Welcome to another edition of Inside My Head, where I give you a snapshot into the chaos of my brain.
Each week I’ll share a story a spiral and a moment of honesty as well as occasional photo’s and any other nonsense my brain throws into the mix.
Enjoy the ride!
Admin (sorry)
I’ve got some of my own pieces I’d like to shout out this week.
I wrote about my relationship with masculinity and how I’ve never felt a part of it. You can read this here.
Secondly, I wrote about my early experience with sobriety. The highs, the lows and the guilt I’ve felt about my own version of it. This is here.
Finally - I wrote about the feeling of being trapped by fear and watching life pass you by. It’s called Watching Through the Window, available here.
Likes, shares, comments, all that good stuff would be hugely appreciate!
I’m also going to leave featured writing submissions open for one more week. I have some time off coming up where I’ll be able to sit down and read your amazing work. If you’ve written something you’d like a spotlight on, you can submit it via this note.
I’ll choose some of my favourites to be featured in June 7th’s edition!
With that out of the way, let’s do this!
The Spiral
It’s really quite nice this, walking along with Nala sniffing the grass. Breathing in the morning air.
Yes. Who knew nature and fresh air were good for you? Crazy.
But at least he’s actually enjoying it though.
Nala looks like she’s enjoying herself too, that’s good to notice.
I wonder why I make it so hard for myself.
If I leave my brain unchecked for long enough it will eventually land itself on “you’re a piece of shit”.
Just checking in Tom. Remember the nice walk.
Yes I know, grass, bird noises. It’s all very nice.
Gratitude. Gratitude. Gratitude.
Is this what life feels like for normal people? This is madness.
Imagine allowing yourself to enjoy things.
He is enjoying this though.. I think.
Good. There’s no glory in suffering.
Guys? This one is totally one you. I was just having a nice time walking Nala.
You’re both so dramatic…
Us?
The Story
Nala turned 1 on Monday.
I’ve been on full time dog duty this week alongside my full time job.
I’ve been sleeping on the couch.
My whole life feels like it exists in the living room.
That was the spiral I was in danger of being sucked into.
Then on Monday morning, I woke up.
My back complaining about my current sleeping arrangements.
My mind running simulations for the week’s schedule that only ended one way - disaster.
Then she stretched.
Then she yawned.
And I was back in the room.
The birthday girl.
I opened her crate and she ran straight past me, jumped on to the couch and rolled on to her back.
Belly scratches!
Before I knew it, it was 5am and I was singing Happy Birthday with full sincerity to a dog who was just waiting for it all to be over so she could go for a wee.
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how much my mind looks for meaning in everything.
And how it’s a fucking exhausting way to live.
I’ve been making more of an effort to feel life in the moment.
Croaking out Happy Birthday at 5am to a dog who couldn’t care less?
That’ll do it.
The Honest Bit
I’m slowly starting to accept how important creativity is to me.
Which means,. I’m also realising that the shame I’ve felt around it my whole life is ridiculous.
You can’t fight your nature.
I’ve always had a creative side.
When I was at my lowest, I felt both shame that I wasn’t allowing that side of me to express itself, through fear of being seen. There was also a quiet desperation that it would one day be the thing that rescued me from the life I was living.
So you could argue, my relationship to it was pretty unhealthy…
Almost exactly a year ago, I was having a conversation with my therapist. We were discussing how I could approach creativity again in a lower stakes way.
Stand up?
Too much history. Too much baggage. Too much risk.
Podcasting?
Do I have anything interesting to say? Can I produce something good? Too much pressure.
Writing?
My childhood passion. 5 year old me. Reconnection? That sounds less scary.
I walked around the park one day not longer after the conversation and I wrote my first piece.
I had to sit on a bench because it made me emotional.
I remember this feeling.
In the year that’s followed, as my life has experienced grief, sobriety and a quiet determination to find peace, writing has become an integral part of how I survive my humanity.
I still have dreams of creativity one day buying me freedom.
Right now, I’m just enjoying the fact that I committed to writing for the last year.
I’m not famous (yet!).
But I’m allowing myself to accept that this matters to me.
Brain Debris
My first words of the day were “fuck off” x 2.
The Boys Finale may have become more of a priority than logging in to work.
My Nespresso machine would be one of the 3 things I rescued from a fire.
7 nights on the couch will upset your spine.
Sometimes it helps to remember there’s a whole word outside your head.
Nala likes grass. I like grass. Two peas in a pod.
Being knackered has become my full time job.
Sometimes freedom is just breakfast without a schedule.
I overheard an elderly woman use the word “fuck” 4 times in a sentence. I immediately liked her.
Sitting outside drinking coffee in the sun may be the best it ever gets.
500 people subscribe to this. What a scary thought.
Sudden urge to finally learn to drive. I think I’m becoming a real boy.
The Visuals
Final Thought
This week I slept on the couch, existed in one room and felt like every time I sat down it was time to take Nala for a walk again.
It was all quite nice actually.
Tom x
If you’ve enjoyed my strange little thoughts and would like to support me in keeping my dream alive, there’s a buy me a coffee link below.
(Will probably be spent on actual coffee…)
An interesting read from a very different perspective to myself.
Also, don’t shy away from podcasting. If I can entertain people with my bullshit, you can absolutely entertain them too. At least you’d have a message 😅😂