Sometimes I forget I have a blog, or feel like I have nothing to write about and then other times I feel like I must write about everything and I get overwhelmed because what exactly do I write about?! The last month has been a muddle of both of these things and finally, I have time, energy, motivation and brain space to sit and type.
I started writing this while being sat by the doors that open on to our back garden so I got to admire the gorgeous autumn sky while staying warm under a blanket. I'm finishing this post sat on a friend's sofa while I babysit for the evening. I was staring out the window earlier thinking about how gorgeous the day was and how thankful I was that I was able to enjoy it. I'm thankful now that I can be curled up on this sofa knowing it's a place filled with love and that things can change but I still have my friends. I love these little moments of joy that remind me there is so much good even in the difficult times.
The last couple of weeks have been really eye-opening for me. My job has changed things. I've loved jobs before but this is a whole new experience- I could write a whole post on just how much I love my work so I won't get carried away but this has brought new realisations.
I am content. There I said it. Things are good and even when they aren't, it's ok.
I was at a friend's work event the other day and I was totally thrilled for her. Genuinely thrilled, without any hint of jealousy that I wish I could do cool things like she is doing or regretting all the choices I've made to this point. I cannot wait to see how her new job pans out and what awesome things she'll see happen. My eyes maybe possibly welled with tears of happiness, but I can't completely confirm this.
This past weekend a friend got engaged and I was totally happy for her. I haven't spent a single moment wishing it was me, or hating the fact I'm single. This is a huge change for me. I haven't spent hours in tears about being left behind or forgotten about. I cannot wait to hang out with her and hear all the details.
Doing new things has helped; I am sure of this. I'm in a new environment where I can be me, not me with a history, and it's been a valuable change. A really scary step to start with- I left my comfort zone a long way behind but really I haven't lost anything. I've gained so much in such a short space of time and I want to desperately hold on to this. This week has probably been the toughest in a long time, but it has totally reminded me of the things in my life that are precious to me.
It certainly hasn't been an easy journey to get to this point, and I am certain there will be huge bumps in the journey ahead but I am learning contentment no matter the circumstances and it's so satisfying.
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Friday, 27 October 2017
Monday, 17 July 2017
It is well
It was my birthday 8 days ago. One of my friends presented me with the gift pictured below. I don't think she had any idea how much my inner being is saying this at the moment. Despite the turmoil and the uncertainty of the past few months, I feel at peace currently.
2 days ago Gilbert joined the house. Gilbert is a one year old tortoise. I've wanted a tortoise for almost 2 years now, but it has never quite been the right time. Last November was a real battle for me, but I promised myself if I survived til spring time, I'd be allowed a tortoise. In March, I got permission from my landlords, but life was still a bit shaky. After turning 27 and managing, for the first time in at least a decade, not to have a birthday-related meltdown, I couldn't see a better time. I cried happy tears in the car driving home with Gilbert, because buying him was me committing to living. A tortoise isn't like a dog or cat in lifespan. The whole likelihood is Gilbert will outlive me, but he will outlive me when I die of old age, not by me ending my life prematurely. My housemate has already nicknamed him Dr Gilbert, because he's my new therapist, and yes he will keep me alive and somewhat sane, but he's also my reward for surviving until now. He will be the reminder of the promise I've made to myself. I don't break promises to others, and I'm praying that now I can keep this promise without external accountability. Meet Gilbert...
There's another reason I'm blogging today; not just to be excited about life and tortoises, but because it's an anniversary. 10 years ago, I was awoken by the phone ringing at 4am. My dad answered. A phone call from New Zealand, my uncle had cancer. He had days to live. I went to school that morning. I remember snapping at a friend who offered me Haribo, because how could I eat sweets when my uncle was dying halfway across the world? Less than 10 hours after the initial phone call, the second came with the worst news. My dad picked me up at the end of the school day. My family only seem to be able to deliver bad news in the car (I can count at least 3 more times I've been told bad news while either mum or dad were driving). The next weeks were a whirlwind. This happened 2 days before mum's birthday, he'd been diagnosed on mine. Flights were booked to the funeral. I realised I'd never speak to my cousin again. I met people who weren't who they said they were. I'd hugged my uncle at Easter for the first time in years, did I know then it would be the last time saw him alive? The mask I'd been hiding behind was rudely ripped off. My mental illnesses exposed after 5 or so years of being hidden. Everything was attributed to my uncle's death but it was far more than that. My diary entry on this day 10 years ago read "It shouldn't have been Graham. It should have been me." These sentences repeated in entries for at least another year, but it wasn't the first time I'd contemplated not existing.
My uncle was like a second father to me. I remember fondly the times he'd take my cousin and I shopping. The times we'd drive him crazy. His baseball caps. His sunglasses. The way he'd never raise his voice, just change the tone if we were in trouble. I notice it in my own voice now when telling children off. When I spoke to him on the phone and he'd ask me how learning Latin was going. He was one of the only people who I felt ok talking to on the phone. His visits were special. Christmas dinners with the compulsory brussels sprouts. Nana and Grandad's joy at having their son home for a little while, mum spending time with her brother. His love of travel became mine. In a couple of weeks I'm going to Canada. I always remember Graham speaking of Vancouver and it's been on my bucket list since he went. It seems fitting to be going this year. I remember when my uncle first bought his car- it was so exciting that he didn't have to hire cars anymore so always knew it was him when the car pulled up outside the house. That's my car now and while I want to replace it, it does still hold a special place in my heart. I knew he loved me dearly.
So much has happened in 10 years. I think he'd be surprised to see where life has taken me. But I think he'd be proud of me too. I've fought hard, faced challenges I don't think anyone could have expected. It's taken 10 years for me to be able to feel ok with life again. And for the first time since depression hit me, I want to live and live well. I want to enjoy every moment for now on and hope I make Graham proud.
I'm finishing this post with the title. An old hymn (by Horatio Spafford) that's been in my head for a few weeks.
2 days ago Gilbert joined the house. Gilbert is a one year old tortoise. I've wanted a tortoise for almost 2 years now, but it has never quite been the right time. Last November was a real battle for me, but I promised myself if I survived til spring time, I'd be allowed a tortoise. In March, I got permission from my landlords, but life was still a bit shaky. After turning 27 and managing, for the first time in at least a decade, not to have a birthday-related meltdown, I couldn't see a better time. I cried happy tears in the car driving home with Gilbert, because buying him was me committing to living. A tortoise isn't like a dog or cat in lifespan. The whole likelihood is Gilbert will outlive me, but he will outlive me when I die of old age, not by me ending my life prematurely. My housemate has already nicknamed him Dr Gilbert, because he's my new therapist, and yes he will keep me alive and somewhat sane, but he's also my reward for surviving until now. He will be the reminder of the promise I've made to myself. I don't break promises to others, and I'm praying that now I can keep this promise without external accountability. Meet Gilbert...
There's another reason I'm blogging today; not just to be excited about life and tortoises, but because it's an anniversary. 10 years ago, I was awoken by the phone ringing at 4am. My dad answered. A phone call from New Zealand, my uncle had cancer. He had days to live. I went to school that morning. I remember snapping at a friend who offered me Haribo, because how could I eat sweets when my uncle was dying halfway across the world? Less than 10 hours after the initial phone call, the second came with the worst news. My dad picked me up at the end of the school day. My family only seem to be able to deliver bad news in the car (I can count at least 3 more times I've been told bad news while either mum or dad were driving). The next weeks were a whirlwind. This happened 2 days before mum's birthday, he'd been diagnosed on mine. Flights were booked to the funeral. I realised I'd never speak to my cousin again. I met people who weren't who they said they were. I'd hugged my uncle at Easter for the first time in years, did I know then it would be the last time saw him alive? The mask I'd been hiding behind was rudely ripped off. My mental illnesses exposed after 5 or so years of being hidden. Everything was attributed to my uncle's death but it was far more than that. My diary entry on this day 10 years ago read "It shouldn't have been Graham. It should have been me." These sentences repeated in entries for at least another year, but it wasn't the first time I'd contemplated not existing.
My uncle was like a second father to me. I remember fondly the times he'd take my cousin and I shopping. The times we'd drive him crazy. His baseball caps. His sunglasses. The way he'd never raise his voice, just change the tone if we were in trouble. I notice it in my own voice now when telling children off. When I spoke to him on the phone and he'd ask me how learning Latin was going. He was one of the only people who I felt ok talking to on the phone. His visits were special. Christmas dinners with the compulsory brussels sprouts. Nana and Grandad's joy at having their son home for a little while, mum spending time with her brother. His love of travel became mine. In a couple of weeks I'm going to Canada. I always remember Graham speaking of Vancouver and it's been on my bucket list since he went. It seems fitting to be going this year. I remember when my uncle first bought his car- it was so exciting that he didn't have to hire cars anymore so always knew it was him when the car pulled up outside the house. That's my car now and while I want to replace it, it does still hold a special place in my heart. I knew he loved me dearly.
So much has happened in 10 years. I think he'd be surprised to see where life has taken me. But I think he'd be proud of me too. I've fought hard, faced challenges I don't think anyone could have expected. It's taken 10 years for me to be able to feel ok with life again. And for the first time since depression hit me, I want to live and live well. I want to enjoy every moment for now on and hope I make Graham proud.
I'm finishing this post with the title. An old hymn (by Horatio Spafford) that's been in my head for a few weeks.
When peace like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to know
It is well, it is well, with my soul.
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to know
It is well, it is well, with my soul.
It is well
With my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.
With my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.
Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.
My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!
My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!
My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!
Saturday, 26 December 2015
Christmas
I feel I need to blog about Christmas, to remind me really what it is all about.
Christmas is not about:
*how many times my mother can comment on my weight/eating habits
*how many "joke" arguments my parents have
*how many presents I got
*how many Christmases in a row Santa has not bought me slippers despite me taking Santa to a shop each year, pointing out the pair I want and saying "buy these now please so we don't have a repeat of last year"...and it still happening. I was so confidentmum Santa had bought me slippers this year that I even bought my old ones so they could be replaced. You'd think I'd have learnt after 5 years...
*my grandparents believing they'll ruin Christmas if mum has to pick them up
*lamenting that it's been x amount of Christmases without *family member* (8 without my uncle and cousin now)
*how quickly I can get away from the dinner table to retreat back in to my own space
*how quickly I can get back home to Oxford
Christmas is about:
*Jesus and the amazing gift that God gave to the world
*reconnecting with family
*using the phrase "calories don't count at Christmas" as much as is possible.
*Christmas socks and Christmas pants and new pyjamas
*welling up at the Queen's Speech because it is exactly what you need to hear
*the Light of the World winning against the darkness
I know so many people who struggle with Christmas for many reasons. There's one particular friend this year who is in my thoughts almost constantly. Something really significant happens and suddenly Christmas is changed forever. In my family, this year has been relatively low drama. No-one died, no-one was in hospital, there were no screaming matches, and no arguments over whether phones/laptops/tv are allowed to be used on Christmas Day.
Christmas for me is not easy. As an only child, there's no special extended family gathering. My grandparents don't even come over any more (I'm pretty sure if I didn't venture to Kent, my grandparents wouldn't even acknowledge Christmas exists). So Christmas Day, except for the presents, is like any other time my parents and I get together. Mum and dad bicker, mum comments on/criticises my life in some way, dad just sits silently or hides on the computer and I end up crying myself to sleep in the early hours of the morning because why can't my family be normal?
I tell people I hate Christmas. That's not entirely true. I hate the fake festivities that Christmas is expected to be. I love that Jesus came in to the world, I love that no matter how many times I screw up, I'm still forgiven because my sin was taken when Jesus died on the cross, I love that God loves me (even when I can't quite understand why!). I just hate the hype and the family expectation and the "everyone look at what a wonderful Christmas we're having" thing, especially on social media. In the build up to Christmas I cannot cope with the discussion over "what does your family do for Christmas?" "oh I've got this extended family and that extended family and even though a few years ago this happened, we still love having them at Christmas time" GREAT but it doesn't work for everyone. And apparently it's not limited to Christmas with my parents, but also this year we had Christmas as an intern house. I cried my way through the whole entire day because it's overwhelming. Christmas has never been a big family thing, it hasn't involved lots of games, and I definitely am not used to "protected family time but we can bend the rules because it's x" Maybe when I have a family of my own it'll be different. We'll make new traditions, we'll actually go to church on Christmas Day, and midnight communion the night before, and it'll be a day free of arguments no matter what happens. That's my hope for the future. Right now I have to suck it up and admit Christmas sucks, that being poorly is actually a really good way to survive it because I can "need a lie down" when I can't face anything more, and just remember that it isn't about family but about God. There is hope, because Jesus is light. Jesus brings life where there appears to be none. Right now is hard, but the future will be worth it. To look back and see where God has brought me, through all this rubbish in the middle.
The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned
Isaiah 9:2 (ESV)
The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.
John 1:5 (ESV)
Christmas is not about:
*how many times my mother can comment on my weight/eating habits
*how many "joke" arguments my parents have
*how many presents I got
*how many Christmases in a row Santa has not bought me slippers despite me taking Santa to a shop each year, pointing out the pair I want and saying "buy these now please so we don't have a repeat of last year"...and it still happening. I was so confident
*my grandparents believing they'll ruin Christmas if mum has to pick them up
*lamenting that it's been x amount of Christmases without *family member* (8 without my uncle and cousin now)
*how quickly I can get away from the dinner table to retreat back in to my own space
*how quickly I can get back home to Oxford
Christmas is about:
*Jesus and the amazing gift that God gave to the world
*reconnecting with family
*using the phrase "calories don't count at Christmas" as much as is possible.
*Christmas socks and Christmas pants and new pyjamas
*welling up at the Queen's Speech because it is exactly what you need to hear
*the Light of the World winning against the darkness
I know so many people who struggle with Christmas for many reasons. There's one particular friend this year who is in my thoughts almost constantly. Something really significant happens and suddenly Christmas is changed forever. In my family, this year has been relatively low drama. No-one died, no-one was in hospital, there were no screaming matches, and no arguments over whether phones/laptops/tv are allowed to be used on Christmas Day.
Christmas for me is not easy. As an only child, there's no special extended family gathering. My grandparents don't even come over any more (I'm pretty sure if I didn't venture to Kent, my grandparents wouldn't even acknowledge Christmas exists). So Christmas Day, except for the presents, is like any other time my parents and I get together. Mum and dad bicker, mum comments on/criticises my life in some way, dad just sits silently or hides on the computer and I end up crying myself to sleep in the early hours of the morning because why can't my family be normal?
I tell people I hate Christmas. That's not entirely true. I hate the fake festivities that Christmas is expected to be. I love that Jesus came in to the world, I love that no matter how many times I screw up, I'm still forgiven because my sin was taken when Jesus died on the cross, I love that God loves me (even when I can't quite understand why!). I just hate the hype and the family expectation and the "everyone look at what a wonderful Christmas we're having" thing, especially on social media. In the build up to Christmas I cannot cope with the discussion over "what does your family do for Christmas?" "oh I've got this extended family and that extended family and even though a few years ago this happened, we still love having them at Christmas time" GREAT but it doesn't work for everyone. And apparently it's not limited to Christmas with my parents, but also this year we had Christmas as an intern house. I cried my way through the whole entire day because it's overwhelming. Christmas has never been a big family thing, it hasn't involved lots of games, and I definitely am not used to "protected family time but we can bend the rules because it's x" Maybe when I have a family of my own it'll be different. We'll make new traditions, we'll actually go to church on Christmas Day, and midnight communion the night before, and it'll be a day free of arguments no matter what happens. That's my hope for the future. Right now I have to suck it up and admit Christmas sucks, that being poorly is actually a really good way to survive it because I can "need a lie down" when I can't face anything more, and just remember that it isn't about family but about God. There is hope, because Jesus is light. Jesus brings life where there appears to be none. Right now is hard, but the future will be worth it. To look back and see where God has brought me, through all this rubbish in the middle.
The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned
Isaiah 9:2 (ESV)
The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.
John 1:5 (ESV)
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