While it may sound a lot like a ‘crap boast’, one of the things that used to wow my friends was how quickly I could go to the toilet. I used to pride myself on my powerful pissing – I could be in and out of the bathroom surprisingly quickly thanks to my strong stream.…

It’s Sunday, I’m lying in bed, and I woke with the first light creeping in around the edges of my bedroom blind. A moment ago I pulled it up to let the light fill the room. Then I sank back into bed.…

Just after Christmas my friend Lottie told me about a product she’d seen at a trade fair – a wearable hot water bottle. She thought it might be useful in helping me to manage the pain I’ve been having in my hips and back, and she was right.…

Touretteshero’s had a birthday party in the past, and has delivered lots of events, but we’ve never had a team party before, and that’s because until recently we were mainly just a team of two, Leftwing Idiot and me.

Not anymore though.…

This is hard. Really fucking hard.

It’s 4.18am and I’m awake again.

I’m sore and tired and lonely. I feel sick and fed up.

For months and months, pain and nausea have been eroding my sleep, which was already fairly bad thanks to my tics.…

When we set up Touretteshero almost eight years ago one of our big aims was to put on exciting inclusive events. I know from my own experience how important it is to have positive experiences to draw on when things feel tough.…

My niece is now three months old and she’s an excellent being. I see her most days and my surreal ticced songs have become part of her bedtime routine. But for the last week we’ve been busy with previews of our new show ‘Not I’, so I haven’t seen her or Fat Sister for a few days.…

I remember the first time I ever used Twitter – it’s etched in my memory. It was almost eight years ago on a sunny weekend in July. I didn’t use it to share information – I used it to find some.…

Yesterday something incredible happened – Fat Sister’s bump became a baby.

I’m now the exceptionally proud aunty of a beautiful wiggly niece.

Fat Sister, King Russell and the little wiggle are all doing well.

As I held her in my arms for the first time, I looked down at her and ticced:

“You’re parents fucked to make you.”…

Usually my “ticcing fits” are characterised by my inability to speak for the duration of the fits. But sometimes it works the other way round and my tics rattle on all the way through. That’s what happened this afternoon, during a hectic email catch-up session, when my tics clearly decided that a mere fit was no reason to stop being productive.…