Gloriously Ordinary Sundays - 22nd February 2026

[Image description: Turquoise background with white text reading: Caterpillar: "Who ARE You?" Alice: "I hardly know, sir, just at present - at least I know who I WAS when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then." White silhouette of a caterpillar in the bottom right corner.]

You all know me as Tricia Nicoll – Gloriously Ordinary Lives. You know me as Mum to Ciaran and The Girl, as daughter to Barbara.

You know me as the woman who loves cats, swimming in lakes and the sea and getting to Kefalonia as often as possible.

I have found myself a bit Alice in Wonderland-ish over the past few weeks. There have been several occasions where I’ve wondered who I am today.

I make no secret of the fact that my head is sometimes not my friend or that I’ve seen more than my fair share of the inside of locked psychiatric wards. I’m perfectly comfortable with my wiring being slightly different (as I like to describe it). Sometimes my wiring short-circuits, and there can be a bit of a bang. I deal with it.

Psychiatrists don’t talk about wiring; they’ve got lots of diagnoses for how my head works, all of them referring to me being more than a little bit broken. For the sake of argument, let’s call my diagnosis, ‘Black Cat Syndrome’ … or maybe BCS. For the last 10 years or so, I’ve had a pretty amicable relationship with BSC without the support of what we call ‘secondary’, or ‘specialist’ services – you may have heard me describe myself as a long-term avoider of the mental health system. I have had a series of pretty fantastic GPs who have been there for me when I needed them and who have gone over and above to support me (BCS and all) and enabled me to continue to be a Mum and to work.

These last couple of months, to stick with the wiring analogy, my circuit board has been tripping irritatingly often.

A couple of weeks ago, after some nudging by friends, I went to see my new GP who I’ve not met yet. Here’s how it went.

‘You present classically as someone with BCS’

‘Do you have good support? What about from other people with BCS? It’s important that you can talk to someone like you – someone who understands.’

‘I see you are not taking any medication – is that something you will consider now?’

‘Not wanting to take medication is also a typical response from someone with BCS. Do you think you are lacking in insight?’

‘I need to refer you to the specialist team as they know about BCS and will be able to help you. Someone will be in touch’

Who am I?

Five days later, I had repeated calls from an unknown number that I couldn’t answer because I was facilitating a Gloriously Ordinary Lives session. After 6 calls, the person left a message,

‘Hello, I’m Ed, I’m from the specialist team, and I’m calling to triage you for support.’

I had a small moment of panic.

Who am I?

I called back.

‘We’re going to call you next Tuesday between 2 and 4pm to triage you’.

I explained that I was working and couldn’t do that time. We then had a back-and-forth conversation where Ed offered me a series of two-hour slots that I couldn’t make work because of my own two-hour slots facilitating things that are gloriously ordinary. We eventually found a date, 10 days later, that he said he couldn’t put in the system because they had to triage me within a week. There was a bit of a silence at this point as we realised that it left us in a bit of a predicament. Eventually, (and good for him), he said that he would try to override the system and put the date in.

On Tuesday afternoon (incidentally not during the two-hour slot I’d been allocated), I had a phone call.

‘Hello, I’m Mary from the specialist team, and this is your triage call’.

‘Can I confirm your diagnosis – BCS?’

She was a kind and polite woman, and she asked me a series of BCS related questions that I have answered approximately 563 times in my life.

‘Well, if you don’t want to take medication, then there is no point in my referring you to the psychiatrist.’

I asked if I might be referred to someone for chat (they like to call it talking therapy) as even with the BCS, I do have a bunch of funky stuff going on in life at the moment that would be good to unpick….

‘The thing is, you won’t qualify for talking therapy …because you have BCS. That’s a different pathway.’

Who am I?

Three different people. None of them found out that I am a Mum, that I created Gloriously Ordinary Lives, that I love cats, swimming in lakes and Kefalonia.

I had an email at the start of the week from somebody who had heard me speak about Gloriously Ordinary Lives, seen my work with Bryony about Gloriously Ordinary Language, and really liked it. Brilliant.

Then this,

‘I see from your website that you also have lived experience. Would you be able to come and present to our teams from a lived experience perspective for Social Work Day?’

Who am I?

I sat on the email for 24 hours before responding in a slightly quizzical fashion, offering up the fact that I’m actually not bad at some stuff. That people usually pay me pretty well to facilitate, to help them think stuff through, to train people around all things gloriously ordinary… or maybe I could tell a story of good or maybe crap support that I’ve had, so people could feel good …or be ashamed or embarrassed about the system they are part of. Was that what they wanted? Oh, by the way, BCS can make you cynical sometimes (that’s a lie – it’s just Tricia Nicoll).

Who am I?

BCS can be a pain in the arse. The furball can be debilitating, decisions about how to deal with fleas and worms …not to mention the whole bunch of mythology around black cats. Given all of that, it’s part of who I am, and I’m quite at peace with it. To be honest, I never feel the need to tell people I have it. It’s a part of who I am, much like my left leg is. I don’t feel the need to draw attention to it.

I am Tricia Nicoll

I am a Mum.

I created Gloriously Ordinary Lives.

I love cats, swimming in lakes and Kefalonia.

I have BCS, but if you’re on a call this week with me, I won’t mention it, and you probably won’t notice …I’ll definitely bang on about the swimming though.

PS. Did you see? The Gloriously Ordinary Sundays Podcast episode 14 is here. You'll hear that I am absolutely thrilled to introduce you all to the lovely ⁠⁠⁠Marianne Selby-Boothroyd⁠⁠⁠, who's joining the Gloriously Ordinary Lives team... that's right, the Gloriously Ordinary Lives team! How exciting is that? Have a listen, and we'd love to hear what you think!