So, 15 months ago I was stripped of everything that I thought made me, me. And what came after a deep long look and sorting through those jagged pieces, was less noise. A silence. A phase of purification. Nearly every aspect of my life, to an extent, has been stripped. So, who is Katie now?
Yes, and I am finally living it.
It's been a slow transition but I wish I could tell my counsellor that I finally stepped down from that tightrope where I couldn’t put a foot wrong. I wish I could tell her that actually “Katie does make mistakes” but I can handle them – it’s okay.
I don’t feel fear like I used to. I’ve learnt that the only thing that you can actually count on in this life is, in fact, change. I don’t try and run away from it anymore; running away takes up too much energy anyway. It’s easier to face it straight on, embrace it, and jump.
Why do we have this self-imposed idea that throughout our lives we are meant to maintain a perfect, crisp version of ourselves? Like untouched snow, or fresh school shoes that we don't want to scratch.
It didn't make sense at first. How could I have been a carer for such a long period without having realised? I think this is the case for many people. Like I said, the changes were minimal at first, and you really don't mind because you'd do anything for your family.
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.