So grateful to have been able to breathe easily. Hope this gives you some peace, as well.
Promote growth wherever you can.
When life slips down the hill, Katie and I often turn to each other and ask each other the same question: What is the point? With our feet slipping, trying to stop everything from falling, our arms aching and our bodies covered in mud, we scream WHAT IS THE POINT IN TRYING SO HARD?
My name is Evee. Not Evie or Eve, and in fact I dislike both of those names quite strongly.
You will become what you deserve, my friend.
Writing on the blog is deeply personal. I imagine I sit you down, offer you tea, hold your hand and look you in the eyes. Whilst you may read this and throw it away, or never think of it again, I think of it every day. The power of you sitting with me, and giving me space to share my thoughts.
Gently, with care, I saw through my ribcage. I pluck out my ribs, and lift out my lungs. Nestled there, cringing at the light is my tiny heart. A torch is shone down at her, and she curls up in a ball sobbing. I want to tell her it will be okay, but I don’t trust myself to speak. I know it scares her so much when I open up.
No matter how far I get from the place where she sanded down the floors, painted the walls and made memories with me, she will always be somewhere. I can hear her in my head saying “you can’t get rid of me that easily, Evee!”
Yet when it is me, in my dark moments I tell myself not to reach out. Who would want to hear it? I will lower someone’s mood. I will make people worry. I will stress someone out.