I think part of my university experience has been trying to find that for myself. To have a moment of deep pride in my accomplishments.
Tag: ptsd
Reality Revisited: My True Colours
On the surface, this new life is wonderful and it suits you so well; you feel like you are meant to be here.
#61 Thursday Thoughts: How Have You Been?
How have you been doing? How’s your mental health and wellbeing?
Reality Revisited: The Human Condition
When I wake up, my heart doesn’t split into a thousand pieces. My head doesn’t pound with questions asking me why us, or how are we here. When I reach for a mug for my coffee, my hands don’t shake when I see Mum’s mug.
Reality Revisited: 3/3 Memories Were The Best Things You Ever Had
When I was a teenager, I had the opportunity to see Ben Howard live for the first time, I remember trying to convince a friend to come with me because “You aren’t going to remember the time you saved £25.00, you’re going to remember the time you were front row at a Ben Howard concert!”. Needless to say, we had a great time. It’s something I’ve always been mindful of. And now, after losing my mum, memories have never been so valuable to me.
Reality Revisited: The Truth.
She was my hero, and my best friend. She would always look after me, help me and guide me, and it strikes me that twelve, thirteen years later, I don’t have that.
Reality Revisited: 2/3 Memories Were The Best Things You Ever Had
When you hold your thumb, try and think of a safe and calming space. This could be a place that you imagine, like a beach with the sound of the waves, or it could be a memory where you remember feel particularly calm. For me it is lying back on the trampoline, feeling warm by the evening sun, at about 12 years old.
Reality Revisited: 1/3 Memories Were The Best Things You Ever Had
For the first 3 months following my mums passing, I was frantic and desperate for memories. We had already lost her, I was terrified that I’d now forget her too. I wanted to hold on to our memories so tightly as if they were helium balloons. Like a child at the fayre, I daren’t loosen my grip in fear that they’d float away and be forgotten forever.
As Told By C.A.
My mother died in 1999, but I still miss her as though she just walked out the door.
As Told By Aly Kat
Mommy loves to tell the story of the day I was born. As soon as I was all cleaned up and looking beautiful, they handed me to my Daddy. Of course, I was yelling my fool head off as babies tend to do. He smiled, patted my rear, and snuggled me close.