Therapy, for me, is writing. Always has been. I hammer out my thoughts, not just for my own sanity, but also for this blog series. It is more than that: I write my daily blog posts to make my husband laugh and to keep our community updated. This saves me from answering the same question 300 times a day, “How’s Matthew doing?” from the well-meaning masses and our community centre members. This way, I don’t spend my afternoons feeling like a broken record or, worse, a shit-stained tea towel, wrung out by the end of the day. Exhausted and drained from saying it and feeling it many times over.

Plus, Matthew gets his wish. Which is no sympathy, please and plenty of laughs and positives only, thank you. Matthew starts his mornings laughing his arse off at my posts, and it pumps him up ready to take on another day.

We’ve clocked up fifteen years together, facing down all sorts of trouble and misery, think of us as the Ant and Dec of adversity. If there’s one thing my husband insists on (besides a constant supply of Pot of Expensive Joys), it is the unvarnished truth. No sugar-coating, no pretending, just raw, sometimes difficult, honesty. I respect him for that, even when the conversations are so uncomfortable you’d rather stuff your head in a sandpit and join the local ostrich colony. But this is our life, warts and all, and everyone copes in their own peculiar way.

If you’re living this experience yourself, know you’re not alone. There’s no right way to get through it, just your way, with as much laughter as you can muster, and the occasional expletive thrown in for good measure.

A prime example of my husband’s sense of humour is that he called Greggy-Kins (This is Gregg, another new character, to this series, his long-time geeky friend and best man who lives in Norwich). Greggy-Kins didn’t answer his phone, and it went to voicemail, where Matthew left a calm, serious voice message. “Good morning, is this the penis reduction service? I have read online that you help with reductions in manhood size if they are too big to carry. Please could you call me back at your earliest convenience, so I can book an appointment. Thank you so much. I hope to hear from you soon. Bye.

Welcome to Matt’s dry wit and sense of humour. The kind that shocks folk into a mouth-opened face expression and questioning, “Did you really just say that?”……Yup, he sure did.

That is him all over, so I paired my writing with his wit, and we came up with this blog series together. If you have read my work before, you will know it is not my usual style of writing, so for me, this is all new too. But, I have to be honest, I am kinda liking what we are both birthing together, it’s kinda great!

And the most important thing is that it makes Matthew laugh every single day. These blog posts and the introduction of Mighty Morphine Power Stranger have had an amazing effect on him. He has gone from painful days and sleepless nights to bouncing back to the 75% of being the cheeky chappy we all know and love him to be. Which is a win-win. Plus, it is really helping me mind dump my thoughts, be creative on a project I have never done before, stay level-headed on important tasks, and be the manager our staff deserve at work.

Today is Sunday, so for me it is carpet shampooing, mopping the kitchen floor and sending home grandchild number one before we tackle a new week. Will there be a Nana nap squished in there? Quite possibly, an eye flutter while watching something on Shit-Flix.

Right now, Matthew is singing and sounding like a screaming cat, and full beans, which I would usually tell him to shut up cos my ears are bleeding. However, on this occasion, it is the sound of him being happy, positive and ready to take on the day.

So, thank you, Mighty Morphine Power Stranger, you can stay rent-free, for now! Thank you, Matthew, for your dry wit, and thank you for my God-given writing skills, because today we are doing really well and helping people smile along the way.

Have a wonderful Sunday, Folks

Kate x