Friday, 3 August 2018

The new new.

I started this blog in 2013, I was 22 and Arabella was four months old. I was working in a nightclub in Leicester Square.
I started it because I already had a small following from the backend of myspace, tumblr, and being around 'the scene', and I wanted to share being an unconventional parent, a young parent, who was learning how to be a Mum.
I wanted to be able to have little titbits for family and friends to see, as I was so far from home.

I was looking through my previous posts, all happy families with my small beautiful baby. I was so young, and this blog has really been a staple in a journey I took, that ended being quite sad, with heartbreak I'll never find the right words to explain.
I've decided to let some of the few posts up of the stuff that could really matter to someone else, that someone might read them and realise that they aren't the only person that felt like this.
They show the sadness, and desperation I felt during a time where leaving a situation, and finally being happy, began a process where I nearly lost everything, mostly I lost myself. There wasn't anything left.
I don't need to write about the past anymore, I want to move forward. It wont help anyone, and it certainly won't benefit my daughter in the future for me to keep dredging up the past; I'll keep that for my therapist. Everyone needs a chance to move on, to live their lives and enjoy them.

Since I'd say, February 2017, I've come really far in my progression. I took time away from everything, I relocated back to London, I fell in love, started a job I loved and ended up leaving that job not feeling the same about myself, or anything, but it was all part of the process. The last six months have been dedicated to making sure I can be the best parent and person I can be. It's had its ups and downs, and recently its been more down than up, and perhaps thats why I'm writing again.
There's a pain within me, thats like the end of the bonfire. It glows, and it burns silently. Sometimes something falls on it and it alights with flames that can only consume, you cant put them out, you can only leave them alone until they die out themselves.
I spend a lot of time without her. My house is a shell from where she last was. I find it really hard to tidy up after her when she's gone. I feel her all around me wherever I go. I fall asleep and wake up forgetting she's not beside me after sneaking into my bed in the middle of the night. I make dinner for one, mostly I don't make it at all. It's too hard. My fridge is full of things that only she will eat. I spend days not being able to remember how I got to where I've gone. Disorientated. Nothing is aligned.
Suddenly, she's here again and I can sleep, and I can wake up happy and content and nothing bothers me. That pain is just a tiny ember just about to go out, and then she's gone again. Facetime every other day just isn't enough and sometimes I just don't know what to do. If I go closer I put my mental health and physical wellbeing at risk, if I stay where I am, I'm a 15 minute train and a 6 minute tube away, but it's still too far.
All I can do is support all her situations and make sure everything is the most positive experience. She's like me though, she's creative. She only wants to tattoo and she draws every day, apparently even when she's not here. She likes adidas tracksuits and coloured hair. She's kind. She's brave.
She's strong.
But then she's gone, and most of me leaves with her.
There's nothing really left after that.


No comments

Post a Comment

Follow by Email

Blogger Template Created by pipdig