Leaving home after Christmas. I’m not sure of the feelings that are within me. I don’t feel as I want to go back but I don’t feel that sense of dread that is so often there when I leave home to get back to London. The fear that things are going to be bad again. The fear that I’m not going to be able to cope. In fact, this time I am hopeful. Hopeful for change and the possibilities of what could be.
The possibility of getting stuck into recovery, putting my all into therapy, running, photography, friends, family, Mumma. RECOVERY. I feel hopeful of being out of the dark tunnel which engulfed me for the last 4 months, unable to escape it. The me which just allowed life to defeat me, treading me down in the dirty cold ground – leaving me lifeless, soulless, defeated and broken. I’m not ready to tell the world what happened 2 months ago. My brain is not quite in the space to allow myself to be so vulnerable yet. But I’m hopeful to get into new patterns, patterns which will create change within and outside of me.
I want to be involved in life again. Baby steps as my therapist tells me. Little changes lead to big changes after all.
Trying to get back into blogging and beginning the couch to 5K from scratch again – we all have to start somewhere.
Sometimes a reset on life is what we need to help us notice what we need to change. Different perspectives and all that.
“You are not your illness. You have an individual story to tell. You have a name, a history, a personality. Staying yourself is also part of the battle”
Julian Seifter
Katie's blog on life 