Exploring mental & spiritual health with a dash of goofiness. Scrambled thoughts.
In 2010, a group of Dutch researchers led by Dr. Jaap Peen found that living in a city doubles the risk of schizophrenia; urban living was also in charge of raising the risk of anxiety (by 21%) and mood disorders (by 39%).
„În primul rând, musai să spun că îmi place mult campania voastră! Se pliază atât de bine pe activitatea mea de zi cu zi, fie că lucrez la cabinet cu clienții mei, fie că lucrez cu diverse companii, scopul meu este să ii ajut pe cei cu care mă întâlnesc să își construiască un astfel de #mentalhealthkit personalizat.” (...)n
A few years ago, personality tests to find out your learning style were extremely fashionable. This is how I learnt that I was a visual learner and definitely not an auditory one. Listening exercises were, indeed, a pain in the ass. That didn't change in time. (...)
I’ve never met you and still, I have to say those words that we usually say to a presumable soulmate whom we meet in a bar on a Friday night, and whom we (think we) want to marry, four hours later : I feel like I’ve known you all my life (...)
With so many options and not enough guidelines, how do we know that we found the one?, I'm hearing *Esther Perel talking through the screen of my computer. Of course, it made me think (...)
It never took me such a long time to write an article as this one. Maybe it’s the anxiety to write about anxiety. I am attempting one more time to finish it and, weirdly enough, I’m currently googling "time on Mercury” and ending up reading about how long a year lasts on the other planets. (...)
One thing I would really want to explore more is the panic attack room. That’s why we are launching an invitation to talk about what’s in our mental health first aid kit, survival kit, secret box, whatever you want to call it (...)
When a friend of mine told me her friend is doing this challenge of not sleeping with any man for a year, therefore calling it a no dick challenge, I was intrigued and quite excited. But then I thought (...)
I had been caught in a platitudinous celebration of Women’s Day for a long time. Like really long, two decades maybe. They never explained us at school what March 8 really meant, instead, we were encouraged to (...)
They say that the age of personal essays is over. Well fuck them.
London is a scary place. It’s like a pair of glasses that you don’t (...)
“Once you can tell a story - you can find people with similar stories and you can build a community. I guess writing is a tool for me to find people.”
A couple of days ago, I was chatting with a friend about the labyrinthal path to self-confidence, dragging through it and having to deal with its sinuous serpentines, flooded lanes, gloomy caves, soggy mud-holes. (...)
Did you notice that facebook has now got a setting that lets you choose a legacy contact just in case you die? (...)
I find myself once again in the panic attack room, sitting as still as I can with an angel on the right shoulder and with a devil on the left one. This scene is familiar to everybody, (...)
I've been single before, but never in my thirties. In fact, when I moved to London I had recently broken up with my first girlfriend ever. I was 28...
WELCOME TO HEARTBRUNCH, a creative, judgement-free space where we explore mental & spiritual health with a dash of goofiness.
Running between languages and cultures, we're trying to figure out scrambled thoughts, anxiety lattes, whole grain gender issues and relationship smoothies. Inviting you to join in from wherever you are and share whatever's in your cookbook!
When I write, I do it in a pretty unorthodox way: nesting in the couch, with my notebook as a faithful lapdog, a dozen of pens, a cup of cooled coffee, and a hodgepodge of post-its (...)
I remember being a curious kid, eager to absorb everything and he always treated me not as a little girl, but as a human in progress: he respected my choices, he praised my curiosity and he never told me that I couldn’t do something because of my gender.(...)
If feelings had different colors, I would definitely be the Coastal Scents 252 Color Ultimate Eye Shadow Palette. As Feist says, I feel it all. I almost feel pregnant (...)
A book that I consider to be one of the very best memoirs that came out in the last few years. If 2016 was Zadie Smith’s year, this is the book of 2017. And I’m completely going crazy about it.
Ever since I’ve started to share photos on HI5 (a social media network from the Pleistocene era) I’ve been fascinated with the connection between self-expression, identity and image. (...)
I’ve been diagnosed with MVP (mitral valve prolapse) two years ago. Statistic show that 2 – 3 % of the population has it. While it can be risk-free, (...)
I once read that Capricorns are creatures of two worlds, they are goats with fish tails, they can climb the highest mountains, but they can also dive into the deepest waters.(...)
When the category « No sex and the city » was still in our brain’s belly, I was discussing with Diana about the most fervent subjects related to love life...
This time last year I was digging Insecure, one of the most empowering shows I’ve ever seen. I completely and irreversibly fell in love with the story, the characters and the music (...)
"We are so focused on criticizing the way it looks, that we forget its main functions: skin both protects us and gives us the opportunity to experiment sensations."
Of course, to fully understand what E.T. is saying here (and I just noticed how his initials made me think of the famous animated character, and that’s probably not completely wrong)...
One of the reasons I cherish late December days is the frostiness of the air that stops dead the oily secretions of my sebaceous glands. It’s a Christmas miracle: (...)
The winter solstice or the rebirth of the Sun has always been celebrated and marked in the wheel of life as the shortest day of a year. Today, the hours of daylight are at their least (think 7 hours and 49 minutes).
some mornings I wake up to a different time in history
a different place from what I already knew is there (...)
It was the 14th of February 2003 and there he stood, tall and looking sheepishly at the door of my grandparents’ house with a fleecy, heart-shaped stuffed toy.