The Dream

And one day, in 2018, the princess woke up and realised she had everything she ever wished for… a house, a dog, a boy and even an Audi TT. But she still wasn’t happy and reminisced over the days when she had nothing but a sense of sorrow. How do you leave that sorrow behind?

The princess still wasn’t fulfilled. When would she win the love of the one she missed so much? x 

Where did this expectation come from?

A really weird thing has been puzzling my brain lately and it’s about expectation. I think it’s popped in there because I’m nearing my 32nd birthday, I feel old and young at the same time and I’m probably even more directionless than I was at 22. Sure, at 22 I was just finding my feet in terms of a job and I was still living at home, dating a guy I knew I didn’t want to be with and wishing something, anything would change. Now I’m nearing 32, I’m much more confident, (in some ways) I have a better job, a MUCH better BF and a house to call my own…but I feel even more lost than I did before.

At 22 I felt the burden of expectation, I had big ideas and grand plans for my future, I was going to make it. What “it” I was going to make was a little hazy, but I knew I was going to get there. I was comfortable with my discomfort, I needed it to get me out of bed every morning and I wanted to live up to all of the expectations I had placed on myself.

Now, I question whether I was trying to live up to my own expectations of myself or the expectations others had, that I took it upon myself to live up to. Most of the decisions I made were made by carefully weighing up which boxes I could tick in other people’s minds if I did certain things. I made almost no decisions because I felt that gut-wrenching urge to do something. When I look back on that time now, I realise that I probably failed in delivering on the one expectation I’ve always had of myself; living honestly.

If you fail to do what’s true to you, over the years you’ll find yourself becoming more and more enslaved to the expectations of others. Personally, I believe that sometimes people break down when they have the epiphany that actually they can choose which expectations to live up to…but they realise this so late that they crumble under the pressure of change. At 22, I was bumbling around making erroneous decisions and ignoring what my intuition was telling me but I never worried about the consequences because I knew that I could change things at any moment, and I was sure I would.

Today, I can’t even hear my intuition. I’ve buried it so deep that I’ve almost completely lost it. Sometimes I meet a person and it shouts at me, a strong warning that I don’t need that individual in my life, but other than that, it seems to be speaking a different language. So I’m directionless. I don’t even have the direction to ignore in favour of other people’s expectations, all I have is my adopted set of expectations and the awkward feeling that I’ve gone wrong somewhere. On paper that’s not the case but the endless babble sitting in that void in my core tells me otherwise. But I’m nearly 32 now. I have a mortgage. I have a dog. I have a significant other to consider. I don’t know what the rules are and whether I can break them yet; the expectation seems to be that you need to have midlife crisis for that to become permissible and that just doesn’t sound like something people would expect me to do.

Saying goodbye to my 20s

Yes, I know, I haven’t quite said goodbye to my 20s yet but I’m a mere week away from turning 30 now! Even as I write that, I feel a little anxious flutter at my core and what I can only describe as nervous anticipation. I think I’m going to do well at being in my 30s but I’m also terrified in case I spend the next decade making the same mistakes again.

30s.

Hmm…

Me, in my 30s. That’s a grown up age. Lots of people in their 30s are married with kids and the idea of doing those sorts of things is still TERRIFYING! If I think too much about the fact that I’ve just bought a house and have a dog I freak out, never mind actual lifetime commitments.

Anyway, the real purpose of this stream of consciousness spiel is to reflect on my 20s because I think it’s a difficult decade to get through. Some people sail through it and love it and the rest of us look on, wondering why our lives are a pile of poo by comparison. So if that’s you doing the wondering, don’t worry about it because I’m about to explain why that’s a good thing.

If I look at my 20s as a whole, there are just 3 main themes to the journey I took and the lessons I learned and the ratio isn’t great, 2 bad : 1 good. Here we go…

Theme 1 – Depression

I still can’t really admit that I have ever been depressed because my background tells me that depression leads to suicide, which leads to other depressed people and I refuse to accept that. What I can admit is that I spent months following this routine:

Wake up – cry – stare at the wall – go to work – hold back the tears – come home – cry – stare at the wall – cry – go to bed

I can also admit that when I managed to stop the staring at the wall behaviour, I still spent an inordinate amount of time crying. The reasons for the tears were varied, but in reality I had a huge sadness inside me that I couldn’t confront and it was ruling my life. This sadness sapped my confidence and stopped me doing and achieving as much as I wanted to but I realise now that it was a process I had to go through. It sounds so cliché to say this but I know now that it really doesn’t last forever, as long as you’re prepared to let the good stuff in.

So, if that’s you right now, let it happen. Sometimes the only way you can move on is to fully embrace the problem, let it flood your mind and then mop up the puddles slowly but surely.

Theme 2 – Debt

During those depressed years I racked up a heck of a lot of debt. Tens of thousands of pounds spent on utter shit that I didn’t need but which I thought might change my life and make me happy. A small portion of the debt was spent on fun, but it really was mainly on junk, oh and some bad car choices. (Never buy a used Corsa VXR!)

That level of debt when you’re on a relatively low salary is crippling, so what I did was bury my head in the sand and keep going. I’m hugely fortunate that I was dug out of the hole by a very generous inheritance, else I would still be in that hole now. It was a good lesson though and I’m glad I learned it at a young age. If you’re struggling with a similar situation, please seek help; just Google it and you’ll find places you can turn to for support.

I sound like an old person now, namely my father, when I say that money really isn’t everything and the stuff you think you need, it won’t make you happy. You’ll have the moment of joy looking at those new shoes but you’ll spend far longer worrying about how you’re going to pay off the cumulative sum of 10 new pairs!

Theme 3 – Good Times

Here’s where the biggest lesson lies for me…the good times are there, they are happening no matter what your situation is, it’s just up to you to decide whether or not you want to be part of them. I feel such gratitude toward all of the people who kept dragging me into the good times and showing me what I was missing. The people I feel this most strongly about are my parents who have been through some really tough times themselves in this last decade, but who remained strong enough to pick me up every time I fell, cuddle me and then invite me to start enjoying life again. Without them, I’d probably be rocking back and forward in the foetal position on my bed right now!

I’ve achieved some stuff too and I’ve managed to build up something of a career, even with a couple of redundancies along the way. I’ve just climbed onto the property ladder, I own my car outright (even if it is 12 years old),I have a beautiful dog, a wonderful boy and many friends. I’ve been on girly holidays, I’ve read loads of books, been out for unbelievably delicious dinners at lovely restaurants and generally smiled and laughed loads, all despite themes 1 and 2.

A huge number of the good times have been in the last 3 years, exactly coinciding with the time that I realised that I can’t find my own happiness in other people, it has to come from within. I can’t tell you how many times people said that to me and I poo-pooed their advice, thinking that I was sorted and other people were making me miserable. I was wrong. I was miserable and as soon as I fixed my own misery, my life transformed and I flipped the ratios:

Happy Days : Blue Days – Sam until age 27
1 : 10

Happy Days : Blue Days – Sam post age 27
10 : 1

Well, I think I have rambled on long enough now so I’ll leave this post where it is. Watch out for some interesting changes to the blog; I can’t be a 20something freak forever 🙂

30s – I’m comin’ to getcha!!! x

The Fear

This weekend just gone, I was sat happily watching a film when something hit me like a tonne of bricks; I’m scared of change. Let me explain further…

I spent the first ~27 years of my life terrified that nothing would ever change, that I would always be miserable, that I would always want to wake up and be someone else or not bother waking up at all. Now, don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t suicidal and I certainly didn’t present myself as somebody who was so blue to the outside world. In fact, many people thought I was a happy person during that time and for many milliseconds dispersed throughout each day, I was. The problem I had was that for every millisecond of happiness, I had another when I realised nothing had changed. 

I could never live in the moment and I never appreciated all of the wonderful things about my life because at my very core, I was unhappy, I was discontent and I was very, very unsettled. The obvious solution to this problem would have been to change things, shake up my life until it suited my needs but I couldn’t because I didn’t know what needed to change and I was scared of making things worse. On and on this went, year after year until it just vanished without me even realising it.

This weekend, I was watching The Theory of Everything, the film about Stephen Hawking and because I was on my own, I allowed myself to feel the emotion of the film. (Usually this is a no go because I HATE crying in front of other people so I tend not to risk it.) As I was watching, I realised that the reason it was upsetting me was because I could empathise; for once I could feel the heart wrenching fear that something wonderful was about to change and it was out of everybody’s control. That was the moment. That was when I realised that I have the same fear; I am scared of significant change in my life which isn’t affected my me because I’m there. I’m bloody well happy with what I have, I’m content and I’m settled and it happened without me even noticing.

Somehow, somewhere, the discontent and the feeling of being unsettled just upped and left me. They’ve been replaced by much less aggressive feelings that just bubble away under the surface, giving me a reason to get up in the morning and a feeling of real happiness that keeps me grounded when things get tough. So, if you’re in that bleak place that I used to be, don’t give up, things can and will change, you just need to give it time. When you stop looking for the happiness, it will find you x

Life After Suicide

Hello, hello!

Whoa there, another post about depression / suicide / dealing with these taboo topics…yup, I’m afraid so! I don’t know if any of you watched it but there was a brilliant programme on the BBC last week, called Life After Suicide and it really got me thinking so I thought I’d share my thoughts with you. (Incidentally, I caught the show on iPlayer and it’s there for another 22 days.)

The programme took us on a journey through the after effects of bereavement by suicide, through the eyes of Angela Samata whose own husband took his life 11 years ago. She talks about her own experience and also meets others who’ve been affected by loved ones taking their own lives.

It was interesting to me for obvious reasons and one such reason was talking about the stigma that is STILL attached to suicide. When my mum died, my grandmother, (dad’s mum) told me to lie about what had happened. Clearly she was ashamed of the situation but luckily my dad wasn’t and enforced an “honesty is the best policy” approach. I could blame it on the fact that past generations had a very stiff upper lip, but I know that many people in later generations also feel this way about suicide.

Outside of these obvious things though, the programme stimulated a lot of thoughts that had just never occurred to me. If you watch it, you’ll find one of the people Samata speaks to vocalising her anger at the fact that her husband has left her with all of the things he couldn’t deal with. Not only that, but she now also has to deal with his death and all of it on her own while continuing family life for her children. Well that just plain old never occurred to me; I never stopped to consider that my dad had to deal with so much more than I did, because there’s a whole heap of stuff that happened that he shielded me from. I never went to the open inquest; he did. I never identified the body; he did. And I most certainly didn’t have to arrange the funeral, but guess what? He did. 

Somehow, the amazing man that he is, he managed to do all of that with virtually no support from family or friends. He just stuck his head down and fixed our lives, all the while dealing with another huge worry which surfaced in this documentary: “What if my girls follow their mother’s footsteps?” Being one of the girls, I’ve never really thought about that either because I know I’m not about to take my own life, but watching all of the people in this documentary talk about exactly this fear really hammered home the fact that this is very real and many people carry the burden of this fear forever as a result of another’s actions. The most significant revelation that’s come from this is the beginnings of an understanding of why he and I feel so very differently about the events of the past.

There really is very little support for people who find themselves left behind after a suicide. As my dad has said to me, no social workers called, no nanny state took care of us, there was almost nowhere to turn. Luckily, there are some organisations which exist to help people affected and one such, which featured in the programme and also in my dad’s life, is SOBS. SOBS is a support group for normal people who find themselves in this situation and like any support group, they provide an open forum where people can express themselves but that’s the only one I know of and it was the only one featured in the programme. What else is there?

This remains something that annoys me on an almost daily basis. Once you have found the strength to tell people what’s happened, often you’ll find they know someone else who has been left behind in the same way. Depression is a real illness and suicide is a very real killer. Nearly 6,000 people committed suicide in the UK in 2012* so that’s thousands of people impacted and left behind in just that one year; yet when it happens to you, it’s surprisingly difficult to find support. The internet goes some way to combating this but it’s not enough. So here’s my plea to everyone reading this – please be open, please point people in the direction of others who’ve been through the same when they reach out and please, please don’t ask anyone to lie in order to save face. As in an situation when you’ve lost a loved one, people who are left behind following a suicide just need love, support and ideally someone to speak to who’s been through it and come out the other side.

Thank you.

Now go and watch the programme because I’ve barely scratched the surface of it! x

*Samaritans Statistics Report 2014

If you’re struggling with depression or thoughts of suicide, here are some organisations which might be able to help:

Maytree Sanctuary
Mind
NHS
Depression Alliance

The Eureka Moment!

Hello hello!

I can only sa29y it feels like forever since I last had time to post on here. I’ve had so many ideas pop into my head and pop right back out again when my work and social lives have taken over. Here I am though on 5th December 2014 and I’ve realised that I’ve been 29 for 5 days and not done my annual changing of age post.

In previous years my posts have been about things I wanted to achieve, fear of my age or reasons I should be positive about getting older. This year is, in some ways similar but in others it’s completely different. Over the course of this calendar year, something changed about me and I want to share it for those who are also hoping for a similar change.

I can only really remember my true thoughts and feelings as far back as when I was about 9 years old; before that it’s all just vague memories of events that happened. From the point I really remember onwards, the thing that really sticks in my head is how blue I’ve felt. People have often described me as a happy person or someone who’s always smiling but that’s never been me under the surface. Sure, I have always been game for a laugh and have found pleasure in things but it’s always been overridden by the core feeling that I wouldn’t really mind, or even at times, that I would quite like it if I didn’t wake up tomorrow.

It’s a hard thing to fight when there’s nothing really wrong but you just don’t have the zest for life you think you should have. My battle was fought by simply pretending I did, apart from those few days here and there when it was apparent to everyone that I didn’t. The days when I couldn’t get out of bed, when all I could do was stare at the wall and wish I was someone else.

Those days still come BUT the difference is that when they go, I have this overwhelming feeling of wanting to live forever. It’s like I’ve finally woken up and I’ve realised that if I never woke up again I’d be gutted, absolutely devastated, because it would mean the end of my days with my family and friends. That’s the message I wanted to share. I never thought I’d get there or feel that way but finally, at roughly age 28.5 this all clicked into place so I have entered my final year of being a 20-something with no silly objectives, no pretences, just a feeling that I’m happy to be alive. At bloody last!

So for anyone else who feels the way I felt for so long, things can change. Keep fighting and you will get there, life absolutely is worth the effort and it will all pay off.

Right now, I have 1 year left of being a 20-something and I’m going to make the most of it. What I do need to think about now is new names for my blog. I never thought I’d keep it going this long when I started it but at times it’s been a lifeline, something connecting me to the world when I was struggling to do so in reality.

Happy December everyone! Enjoy “the most wonderful time of the year”!!! x

A State of Balance

This one’s for you, mum and it’s to mark the date that for me represents half my life lived with you and half lived without you.

It’s a bit of a tricky post to start, really; you’ve missed 14 years of my life and a heck of a lot’s happened in that time. In fact, it goes beyond that because you’ve missed 14 years of baby sister’s life as well so you’ve missed absolutely heaps.

Part of me wants to write this sympathetically and fill you in on what you’re missing so you don’t feel so far away but another part of me hates you for the fact that you aren’t here to know it all already, so I can only apologise for what is most definitely not my best writing. Another problem I’m having writing this is that I still can’t think about you without crying and I mean really crying, big, sploshy tears landing on the keyboard. It’s not just that I miss you, it’s that I feel so guilty for being happy when I never succeeded in making you happy and that hurts. A lot.

Anyway, let’s get started on filling you in…

School – as long ago as it seems, sis and I were both in school when you buggered on off so I should probably start there. We both did ok. Well, I did ok because I did sod all work and sis did incredibly well because she worked her little bottom off. I bet you’d never have put money on sis being the one to get the better grades but she did and we’re all really proud of her.

Uni – we both went and we both ended up at Southampton. Again, sis worked hard and got a 1st; I didn’t and got a 2:1. I did leave with more confidence though and I was in a couple of plays. Hopefully that makes you smile after you spent so long trying to make me quit Kendrick and go to drama school instead!

Work – Sis is an Audiologist; she’s properly driven by her own hearing and ear-based problems and she’s incredibly good at what she does. She set out to achieve this and she’s done it. She was asked to go back to uni and complete a PhD but she hasn’t taken that path yet (though I keep trying to persuade her).

Me, I work for a small software company. I’ve had lots of different jobs and I’ve never really wanted any of them. Finally, this one is one that I actively chose rather than landed in and I’ve been there for nearly a year with no intention of leaving. It’s a record! I knew it would happen one day but I did start to lose a bit of faith along the way!

In fact, I’ve found it pretty tough making decisions since you left. I’d never really realised but I used to just aim for what I thought you wanted me to aim for. When you weren’t there, I was pretty lost. The trouble was, it took me 10 years to realise I was lost. 10 years of up and down depression, 10 years of eating any old junk food just because you’d never know and 10 years of following the crowd. I had some rubbish relationships in those 10 years too! In the last year or 2, I’ve finally got some kind of a hold over my life and luckily received a very generous inheritance to wipe away a lot of my mistakes. I’m definitely on the up now 🙂

Umm…ooh, how about boys??? I know you’d want to know! I know you used to listen to my phone conversations with boys so you must want to know! We’ve got mobiles now by the way – dad finally relented after you left. He’s been awesome by the way, like really super amazingly cool. I never really thought he had it in him before but now I’ve got to know him, I couldn’t be happier or more proud that he’s my daddy!

Anyway, back to the boys…

Sis had a few short-term things with a interesting mix of guys, ranging from articulate and intelligent to stereotypically grunty and spotty! Then she met the guy she’s with now. He’s lovely! Very quiet but also confident enough not to take too much shit from her. They live together and it all seems to be going very well. The rest of us are guessing about when they’ll get married!!!

I’ve also finally found a boy that I really like. I didn’t think I had it in me to be a cuddly, caring type and I’m sure you’ll remember that I never really did ask for cuddles as a kid either. Well, turns out I am like that but only with him. We had a bumpy year on our way to where we are now but he’s awesome and he’s the only person who makes me feel as safe as you did when he cuddles me. I absolutely promise you that you would have loved him. He’s a Libra too, so you’ve already got something in common!

There’s so much other stuff you’ve missed: driving tests, holidays with friends, holidays with family, moving out of home, some of our cousins getting married, friends changing, family changing. You weren’t there when I moved in with a previous bf, or when he moved out; you haven’t seen Sis’ flashy new car or the lovely flat I’m living in. You wouldn’t even know who my flatmate is even though she’s been a friend for years now.

I couldn’t possibly fill you in on everything.

I will just highlight the family changing bit though. Dad re-married so Sis and I inherited a step-mum and an older brother. In fact, we are both aunties because he’s even started building the next generation of our family. Luckily, dad made a good choice so we’re all very happy and family occasions are both fun and funny!

So I guess that’s it really, I’m not sure what else to say. As angry as I am at you, I’m much more angry at myself and you should know that I don’t really blame you. I still love you, I always will but I don’t understand it and that causes me a few problems. I know I haven’t visited since 2006 but that stone in the ground just isn’t you. What I want from you is a cuddle and an explanation but I know I’ll never get them so I’ve learned to accept that some things are just unknown. I like to think you’re still doing your best to look after me and that’s enough to keep me sane but it doesn’t make me miss you any less. Really and truly, I hope you are happier now because when I am reunited with you, I’d like you to be smiling!

Lots of love,

Me xxx

 

 

A Midlife Crisis at 28

Future Car???

Future Car???

Stuff’s been bugging me lately and I mean a lot of STUFF. The more I think about it, the crazier I get and further away I appear to be from an answer. All I can do is assume that this is an early midlife crisis.

Let me set the scene:

I’m 28, I have a good job, I live in a lovely flat, I go on a reasonable number of holidays, have some lovely friends, an amazing bf, a brilliant family and I even have a car thrown into the mix too. For a 28 year old who just a year ago lived in a house that was lonely, had no real job, no bf and a mountain of debt, I’d say that things are changing pretty rapidly and they’re changing for the better. So why am I so discontent?

I can only put it down to a form of midlife crisis. What I actually think it is, is an “I’m approaching 30, FML, this is terrible” crisis but that’s not especially catchy. You might now expect me to panic about the fact that while my life is moving in an upward direction, I’m not yet married and I don’t have children and the clock’s ticking, etc, etc.

NO!

What I’m panicking about is that I’m getting close to a point where I might be expected to “settle down”; people are going to expect me to get married and have babies, just like everyone around me is doing and I don’t want to. Not only that, but this panic that’s setting in is giving me a major case of the old itchy feet. Suddenly I’m craving travel like never before, I’m struggling to see how I’ll get through the next year without taking at least 3 months solid out to go exploring. I’m looking at sports cars; what can I afford and which cars only come with 2 seats to be sure that there’s no space for buggies or babies???

Don’t get me wrong, it took me ages to find a job I like and the bf is truly 1 in 6 billion or however many people there are in the world; there’s no way I’m going to just dump and run. That doesn’t stop the feeling of panic though, it just makes me want to pack him in my suitcase and work from China or Australia or New York…anywhere far flung! 

The biggest problem I have right now is how to resolve this. I don’t want to put up and shut up and wake up in 5 years tied down to a marriage, mortgage and motherhood but I’m not bold enough to risk it all in case I lose everything I’ve worked for so far. Where’s the middle ground? Should I just buy the sports car and be done with it? Deny my age? Paint my bedroom to look like a jungle? (My bedroom is sorta like a jungle anyway in that you do have to watch where you put your feet but it’s far less leafy.)

HELP ME! I’m getting old(er) and I’m scared. I’ve got a liney face and cellulite in the bum/thigh region and things are changing and my life isn’t like the books I read and films I watch. I’m living in reality and I don’t know what to do with it!!! x

A Controversial View on a Controversial Subject

I can’t imagine a day when talking about suicide won’t be a controversial topic but once again it’s been thrown into the air as something people are openly discussing on the back of the recent passing of Peaches Geldof. There’s no current evidence that her death was a result of suicide but due to the Tweet she posted the night before, speculation seems to be rife. I’m not especially interested in discussing what happened to Peaches as I think rumours are rather disrespectful when somebody’s family are grieving. However, the wider topic of discussion that this throws up is something that is always going to be interesting to me.

Today in the office, a couple of the team started talking about this and then discussing how selfish it is for a mother of young children to commit suicide. While I can see their point, I popped my opinion out there and I’m popping it out here again to see if I receive anything other than shocked responses. My opinion, and I promise this is the honest truth, is that it is more selfish for someone who is that seriously depressed to carry on than it is for them to move on to whatever comes after the life we know.

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not suggesting this is a decision that should be taken lightly and that human life should be wasted but I do believe that people who have spent long enough wishing they weren’t alive will never truly come back. I’m talking about those who can’t get through daily life without throwing the lives of all others around them into disarray. Essentially, I’m talking about people who are like my own mother was. For a good 10 years, (the entirety of the time I remember when she was alive) she wasn’t right. The tiniest things would cause her world to collapse; the sausages not being defrosted leading to hours of tears and anger is one of my earliest memories of such behaviour.

As a child, this is distressing. You’ve no idea what to expect from your parent, no understanding of why they’re so different to everyone else’s parents and no idea what it is you’ve done to deserve having it all taken out on you. Now multiply those confusing feelings by 10 years and factor in physical violence but also mixed with a huge amount of love and I hope you can start to understand why my opinion on this is the way it is.

How can one person love you so much and be the absolute centre of your world, pushing you to be the best version of yourself you can be yet also be the person that screams at you when the car won’t start? Or the person who cries and then screams and then slams doors, punches worktops and shouts at you because they spilled their dinner. It’s a very strange world to live in, is that and to be perfectly honest, life is a lot easier without it.

So, for those on the outside looking in at a world they have no experience of, I challenge you to say that it’s always better for a suicidal person to keep pressing on now that you’ve had a glimpse of the reality. Yes, when a mother leaves her young children, they’ll probably never get over it but they’ll probably also never recover from the damage she could inflict by sticking around for an eternity. So what’s best? My opinion is that every situation is different and requires a resolution unique to itself but sometimes, the controversial answer is the right one.

I’ll never change what the masses think but I’d like to at least challenge it so here’s hoping I’ve achieved that today! X

 

P.S. – All of the above is an extremely moderate version of real events, so if my viewpoint seems extreme, consider the words I haven’t written as well as the ones I have.

Packing Up and Moving On

For those of you who don’t know me personally, I’ll give you a little bit of context which is essentially that I am moving house at the end of this month. Anyone who would recognise my face on the street probably already knows this as I may have mentioned it once or twice 🙂

Anyhow, as a precursor to moving, I have rather a lot of packing to do; a whole house and 2.5 years worth of packing to do if you want to be specific about it. Packing is one of those things which as a whole is a pretty dull task but actually, as you are doing it, it can be like a form of therapy. You look through things you’d forgotten were there and remember how you came to have them and what they meant to you at the time. Some of those things you decide to keep so you can relive that memory again and again and some you decide to say goodbye to as the significance of the memory has somewhat faded over the course of time. This is the process I am going through at the moment. I’m incredibly excited to be moving in with a friend and the flat we’ve chosen is lovely but even the walls of the house I live in now will be hard to say goodbye to.

You see my current house is the house where everything fell apart so spectacularly. It’s the place where I had to dig deep and find a strength I never knew I had so that I could rebuild my life in a way that actually worked for me. It’s also a place where I’ve been happy, honestly happy and without relying on anyone else for that happiness. I feel like the house has witnessed and supported me through a transition that I had no idea I was going to make when I moved in. It’s been my comforting shell, my safe place and also a sign to me of my independence. I chose to stay in this house, I chose the furniture that’s in it and I’ve chosen the people that have been allowed through its doors.

When I moved in I was pretty much walking along a tightrope of sanity, literally one little wobble and I was over the edge and completely floored. I didn’t really realise it at the time though, it was how I’d been for most of my life and I hadn’t noticed the tightrope getting thinner and thinner. I’m pretty sure it had started as a full on bridge but each fall had chipped away at it and the falls had been getting more and more painful. I was waiting for the day when someone would come along and fix everything, tell me that things would be ok and take control of my life for me. It was only during my time in this house that I had the realisation that I could re-build my tightrope each time I climbed back up and now it’s a huge platform, I haven’t even found the edge yet because it’s that big. Seriously, massive! I can lose my footing any number of times and still not fall. 

So now I’m clearing out my house and it’s reminding me of how I was when I moved in and how much more content I am now. To leave feels a bit strange and a tiny bit of me worries about finding the edge of my huge platform, but the majority of me is looking forward to finding the edge so I can look over without fear. Thank you house, you’ve been truly awesome and I hope the next people to live here appreciate just how comforting your bricks and mortar are. It’s time for me to move on up now but I’ll be sure to stop by and check they’re treating you right every now and then x