That’s my Mum, she existed, she laughed, there was a time she wasn’t dying or sad, when this wasn’t our reality, and when she could hug me and tell me everything’s going to be okay. The pain is just an indicator of how strong our bond was.
“Okay Evee, you’re on your own now, and you have to put as much distance between this tragic event as you can.”
Resilience and roller-skating go hand in hand. You slip up and fall on your butt, with your hands slapping the concrete besides you. You look up, praying no one saw, and a little voice says in the back of your head “This is the important bit, go on, get back up.”
I remember a page where I just scribbled “WHY”. One word which took up the whole page. I scratched it in so much the letters were thick and black but each time I drove my pen into the paper I felt a release.
I don’t wonder why they behaved this way, but I ask myself why I responded. I put this individual’s behaviour down to them having a bad day and I forgive them. Yet I can’t forget the fact that they saw me at my most vulnerable, and strangers must have seen me as weak.
Whether we mean it or not, productivity is charged with a complex definition; what you produce has to be something we can measure against society’s standards, and it has to be useful.
What they didn’t know was that I was slowly losing it. My grades were the only thing I could even begin to control. I believed the only thing I could truly count on was that in March 2019 I would be at university. The hardest thing I had to do was leave my mum curled up on the sofa to revise for my exams. Repeatedly I beat myself up for being so selfish, but I promised myself that I would have all of summer to be with my Mum.
Motivation feels like a flying bird: in your eye line for a second, and then gone forever more.
Life’s hard enough without an eternal war in your head.
We are one third of the way through 2021. Look at how far you have come, and smile. We are so proud of you.