Fresh Start

It’s lovely to welcome March in today as I always find Feb particularly challenging. I’ve been highly focused on #selfcare since last June but it all went out the window last month – eating better, sleeping better, writing, drawing, talking, being mindful, radical acceptance and all the other things I’ve poured energy into as part of my recovery just stopped for the month. I suppose I stopped being willing and my wilfullness returned. New month, important awareness day, fresh white blank sheet laid out in front of me and receiving this card a few days ago reminds me it’s time to accept the shit month, forgive myself and forge forwards. I wrote this card to myself on my birthday and then forgot about it – 6 days later I was stupid – I can’t remember a couple of days – for which I’m grateful. This Tues the card dropped through my letter box. I read it and wept -released what I’d held in for 2 weeks. It’s funny how quickly your thought process can change in a matter of days and I’m glad I got to read this letter. A letter written to myself on a day my brain was on my side.



Candles, wine and the Stars. Taking some time to absorb the day. A beautiful yet emotional day. My baby girl is 8, I’ve managed 8 years as a parent and she’s pretty damn special. I always find their birthdays a little tough – that combined mixture of joy and pride of what they have grown into and sadness and grief for their younger version who is no more. If I’m honest I’ve been dredding today for weeks, as this year it held an extra anniversary.  1 year from the day my mask faultered and I could no longer hide the pain that had been consuming my mind for years.  The day I broke. The day I could no longer control or contain what I was feeling.  But do you know what? It’s actually a year since I faced my fears and let myself begin to heal.  A year since I became free. So today I celebrate. Celebrate my smart,  funny, kind,  considerate,  beautiful,  stubborn 8 year old and celebrate my 1st year of freedom.