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I sat staring at my psychiatrist. I was thinking—God I hate coming here. 


“Koky, I know that you hate coming here. And I know that you think I don’t care about you”.


OMG he could read my freaking mind! I hated him even more. 


“But I want you to know that you are wrong—I do care—and I am very worried about you, you’re not getting better.”


I kept looking at him and remained quiet. But I could feel my heart starting to skip beats. 


“So I am going to ask you to do two things for me. Just two things. It’s my last effort to get to you. I’m going to be honest, I’m not sure what else I can do—to get you to talk.”


Now I can’t breathe.


“I want you to go home. And for homework, write down what you are feeling on a piece of paper. Next week, bring it in and do what you normally do—which is say little—then slide that piece of paper across the table, and I will read it.”


I stopped staring at him. Actually, I was having trouble looking at him. Why can’t I look at him! And why can't I breathe. Did he just give me a panic attack?!? Damn him! 


I did somehow eventually look at him, briefly, then lowered my eyelids, and squeaked out, “…and what’s the second thing you want me to do?”


“The second thing I want you to do, Koky, is stop lying to me.”




And so I starting writing.


And I stopped lying.


I discovered I liked it. It helped me to organise my feelings! So I kept writing and writing and writing. Everyday I wrote. My own personal olympics.


Until on the 28th of November 2016. As a birthday present to myself, I finished the first draft of my first novel. 


It is about a boy who runs away from home with his little sister. To find a cure to save her life. 


I hope when the time comes to share this story (the biggest I will ever tell) that you find some time to read it and let me know what you think.


* A lot of my time in the shop, is spent writing bits and pieces of my novel. 






I’m working on the second draft of my first novel now. It is twice the length of the first Harry Potter book.


Sometimes because I want to and for practice, I write all these little short stories. Usually 300-700 words. I have over 200 of them! Not all of them are about grief and time and sadness. I promise! These stories are actually snippets, a window, into my heart and soul. They are a collection of some of my greatest life lessons, learnt from moments in my life. Sometimes significant moments and sometimes seemingly mundane moments.


The feedback I’ve recently received from sharing my stories has been just so beautiful and it gives me so much energy and inspiration and energy to write and share more of them. So if you do like them let me know by commenting. And if it inspires you, please share. That would mean the world to me.  


I will share one story a month.  I hope you enjoyed this bonus story about my psychiatrist.

Much much love. Koky x

Mental Health Novel

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  • Do we share a birthday? On the 28th November 2016 I was in the city with a group of year 10, 11 and 12 special needs students. We were looking at the Christmas decorations. It was also my 60th birthday but I hadn’t told anyone at work. I had finished the chemo and started the hormone treatment. The day before my immediate family had come to our house for afternoon tea which was all I could cope with. My day was ordinary and I love that on that same day you achieved something monumental.
    Much love xx 🌟🐝

    Linda Bentvelzen on
  • Loved reading your bonus story & looking forward to reading a story each month. It is one thing I always wanted to do was write a story although my dream was to write a children’s story. I used to have so much fun making up stories for my grandsons when we were doing long trips in the car. They used to say tell my a story about “such & such” & off I would go & their little faces would light up. It was a great time.
    Keep up the writing.

    Jacqui on

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