Never to old to need your mumma

Hello from my mums & dad's bed (what a strange introduction) but it's my safe haven currently. It is currently day 3 of my recovery from my tonsillectomy and I have had a heck of a lot of time to ponder on life the past 3 days, and even though I had been warned that having my tonsils out was going to be very painful, I could not have prepared myself in the slightest for the pain and ugliness to follow. Many people think that having your tonsils out is a breeze where you get to eat lots of jelly and ice cream after; and for kids, this is the case. However for us adults it is a whole new ball game. I am not writing this to be over dramatic (which I know I have a tendency to be) but google any adult tonsillectomy and all will echo my next few thoughts. 

The day of the operation itself went quite smoothly; into St.Georges for 7am and I am top of the list for the ENT surgeons. (result!) I met my doctor and my anaesthetist both who were thorough but lovely. Around 10:30am I was taken off into a changing room and got into the most fashionable NHS hospital gown along with green DVT socks and red theatre non slip slippers. I looked FAB. I got a bit teary eyed at this point; I had to say goodbye to my mumma, as I am an adult (haha) and I was also scared about being put to sleep. I even asked the anaesthetist (who's name was Richard and he will be called anything but Dick!) how I would wake up after. He explained it to me but at this point he was putting some strong gin and tonic into my veins and I didn't get to hear the answer. I woke up in recovery around 12pm and the pain hit me straight away. I think I asked for some water and when they gave it to me I cried because I couldn't even swallow it. They gave me some codeine which again I cried when I tried to take because it didn't seem to go down the right way. I then kept asking for my mum and I was so pleased when she rushed through those doors. The next hour was horrific. I vomited blood and vomiting is bad enough let alone when you've had surgery on your throat and it pulls at those muscles. That night I slept quite well considering; I was so dosed up on codeine and had used up a lot of nervous energy. 

So today is Day 3. Day's 1-3 have been very tough. It's no longer jelly and ice cream that you are advised to eat but harsh foods to scrape away the scabs and to stop blood clots forming. I tried toast and choked, but funnily enough have been managing bread sticks and today managed a few crisps! If anybody wants to loose weight having your tonsils out is the way forward (I joke it's gross, don't do it) 
I have sore ears, a stiff jaw, a swollen tongue, a swollen face and my teeth hurt. I am basically miserable and bored and have awful breath. (Fun times for my family!) Things I have found that have helped have been ice packs and then hot things on my neck, water with ice cubes in, and a travel pillow around my neck 24/7.  Taking my pain meds at the correct times also helps me through. But anyway, I didn't write this blog to tell you all my symptoms and descriptions of scabs falling out my mouth (mmmm) rather I wanted to write this because going through something like this has taught me three things. 

1. People will always surprise you; If someone I loved or cared about was going through an operation (no matter what it was) I would message them constantly (annoying I know) and they would most likely pre-occupy my thoughts for most of the day they went under and for the recovery time. The thing is, my family have been ever so loving and supportive and a few of my friends have been too and many people in my church, but I have learnt that I expect too much from people and it's come as a bit of a crash to earth to be honest. Some people I never would have thought would care for me have checked up on how I am (which is a lovely surprise) But, I've had to learn the past few days that not everybody thinks the way I do, or has the same heart as I do and that most people are so pre-occupied in their own stressors of life that it doesn't even occur to them to ask how I'm doing. This doesn't make them bad people, it just means they can't communicate with me on my level and this hurts my feelings.  Maybe this makes me selfish for thinking people I thought cared should take 5 seconds out of their day for me, but I am grateful for my supportive few and will value and treasure them even more dearly from now on. 

2. Never take well-health for granted; I used my voice ALOT. I sing and talk 24/7. So this not having a voice thing is quite frustrating. I thought I would enjoy lying in bed and watching movies for 2 weeks but 3 days in and I'm bored. I can't even make it through a film without falling asleep as the pain killers I'm on make me sleep a lot. I want to be outside, seeing friends, and drinking coffee and heck I even want the concentration to write my essay! I know I've just got to get through these next 11 days and I shall hopefully be back to my normal self. Maybe this is all teaching me something about not taking my good health for granted, and to get up and go do the things I want to whilst I can because you never know when something is going to knock you back or for how long. To the people out there suffering with long-term illnesses I salute you for getting up and on with life; even with the medication you are taking and the pain you are experiencing; keep inspiring us all. 

3. You are never to old to need your mum; My mum has been my rock the past few days. She's been getting up in the night when I wake up, she's been forcing me to try and eat (which even if at the time I dislike her for, I know its for my own good) she's been bringing me up ice cold water and making sure I am comfortable. My parent's are amazing, a lot of people know this. Today for example they have both fulfilled their duties at church (Dad did baptisms) and this afternoon they hosted about 10 senior's for lunch all whilst making sure I was okay up here! They are balancing their hectic jobs and lives and now a poorly, emotional wreck of a daughter for 2 weeks - so keep them in your thoughts, and remember, you are never to old to need your mumma ;-) 

Operation Preparation

Throughout my time writing this blog I have taken you all with me through the highs and lows of my life since the age of 19. Most of these highs and lows have been reflections on love and loss (and my amazing time in Australia) however the next few blog posts are going to be on health. I am undergoing a tonsillectomy on April the 9th and so even if it may be very boring for you all to read I have decided I am going to document my surgery and my recovery process (mainly to give me something to focus on!) But also because I have read a few blog posts from adults who have under gone the same surgery and found it incredibly re-assuring and interesting. 

So, why am I having this tonsillectomy? Two reasons! I have suffered from bouts of tonsillitis since the age of 7 and it has come to the point now where my body is in a constant state of having tonsillitis. My tonsils are so inflamed and massive that I can't swallow food very easily, and I haven't felt "well" in a good few months. I am constantly tired, I nap a lot, and at first I thought this was me just being a student, but when I realised not many people were having as many naps as me I got concerned, and was then informed that due to my body constantly fighting infection it is totally normal for me to sleep a lot. I have also put on weight around my neck and face and this is due to the size of my tonsils and my glands being swollen & okay maybe some of it is due to the copious amount of pasta I consume also... 

The second reason is because of my tonsil size I have very little breathing gap space in my throat. This causes me at night to suffer from sleep apnoea. This only began about a year and a half ago, and at first it was flippin scary! Waking up in the night gasping for breath and making these awful sounds, I'm surprised the first time it happened I didn't ring 999 straight away! (I rang my mum instead) This also explains why I am tired most of the time as I haven't had a full nights sleep in nearly 2 years. All in all, it's been pretty rubbish and negative but at least now it is getting sorted! 

Preparing for the operation itself its quite daunting; I know some people reading this will think I am just being dramatic "its only having your tonsils out" but there is a lot of evidence that tonsillectomy in adults (which yes I count as now argh!) is incredibly painful and takes a while to recover from. I also do not like the fact that someone is "putting me to sleep"  (however I have been told when I wake up it will feel like the best sleep I've ever had) The thing I am most concerned about is my singing voice; I have been trained since I was 13 to sing with these huge tonsils in my mouth and now I am all of a sudden going to have all this new space to play around with. My singing coach has remained positive and although I will have to re-train my voice a little it should all in all improve the quality and tone of my voice in the long run. 

At the end of 2015 at church we had a service of "looking forward to 2016" with times of testimony from anyone who wanted to contribute. I spoke on the beautiful hymn "Abide with me" 

1. I fear no foe, with Thee at hand to bless;
   Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness;
   Where is death’s sting? Where, grave, thy victory?
   I triumph still, if Thou abide with me.

                                                                                                                               

I love the line where it says "Ills have no weight and tears no bitterness" Of course when we go through health problems they can feel like they take over our lives and our families lives, but again as always I am a strong believer in every thing (yes, even health concerns) happening for a reason - and I am not yet sure why I have been through a year and a bit of feeling so rough but I am hoping that one day that will come to light. I have been trying to focus on other things but ever since I found out the date of my operation very little else has been pre-occupying my mind, and I am having to be careful in a way to not become selfish and make everything about me as I know there are many other problems in people's lives and the world.  I guess this is why this blog is so good - I have every right to write about me because its all my confessions! 

So here we go, 4 days to go till peace & quiet for my family and a whole lot of lessons in patience and dealing with pain for me... 

Until the recovery journey! 

Hello 2016

It has taken me a good few days to write my end of 2015 blog; this is because 2015 was a year where nothing incredibly dramatic happened month by month like it seemed to do in 2014.It has taken me a while to get my head around 2015, as it was a whirlwind but I really wanted to give it justice. Looking back now I see that 2015 was a year of character development and life lessons in small doses. I write this blog not to attention seek, but to reflect and inform.

At the end of my 2014 year review blog I wrote these words: "So what does 2015 hold? First and foremost, becoming an aunty. I cannot wait to hold and love that baby, and it is a huge priority of mine that baby grows up knowing how much it is loved. Secondly to complete my first year and start my second year at The University of York, and finally to carry on living fearlessly no matter what life throws at me" 

I became an Aunty on January the 22nd 2015 to a beautiful baby girl; Emilia Ellen Condello. She means the world to me, and I will love her and fiercely protect her forever. She brings so much joy to our family, and to others and I cannot wait to see what a little world changer she is going to be. So thats the first thing ticked off my 2015 list. I completed my first year at The University of York (just!) and am now into full swing of second year. I am enjoying my course, being challenged, learning a lot and am happy and settled. Second thing checked off the list.

Did I manage to live fearlessly no matter what life threw at me? Well, as I said, in 2015 there wasn't really any one big event that changed me, or my perspective, or even anything that drastically sad happen to me. But a few little things did occur that taught me a few lessons.
I lost two people who used to mean the world to me. And not through death - in fact I lost them because of life. People do outgrow people, it is part of life - however when those out growings (I am aware this isn't even a word!) happen and you aren't entirely sure why they have happened you begin to question yourself. Was it me? Something I did? Something I didn't do? Did I not make enough effort? You can question and question yourself, and wonder where it went wrong, and try and resolve the situation - but sometimes after you have apologised, and tried more than once you have to learn to let it go, and realise that some things will never go back to how they used to be.

This happened to me and it made me realise once again how great God's timing is. If I had lost said person whilst I was still living at home, and hadn't moved up to York, I would have been so very lonely. But the timing that this event happened, I am surrounded by amazing friends, and I have learnt the true value of friendship. I also lost somebody who was no good for me, but I have only just realised that they were no good for me in the past few weeks. This person hurt me in a way that I haven't been hurt before. Constant lies, followed by constant rounds of forgiving and forgetting, followed by more constant lies, and getting people involved who I thought were my friends in on those lies. I finally learnt at the end of 2015 to let it go. This person is never going to be a good person for me, no matter how much I may want them in my life. This person brought nothing to me except a constant state of anxiety and panic and sadness. And currently I have all the people around me that do not bring me anything but happiness, fun and laughter. I learnt through this that I can't control people's behaviour, and I no longer want that burden. And I will no longer put up with being mistreated or lied too.
So did I live through those events fearlessly? I like to think so; loosing people is never easy, but you have to keep running the race that is life.

Also in 2015 I like to think that myself & my family lived fearlessly in the face of illness. My dad did not have a very positive "well" year and it has been a trying time for us all. 2015 taught me the importance of family; and how family are everything. Family are there for you through situations that nobody else knows you go through, family are the ones who you laugh the hardest with and cry the most with & family are also the ones to take you to A&E when you end up with concussion after a few too many on a night out!

In 2015 I also moved into my own house with my friends! We have had to learn bill paying, communal living skills, and basically become as adult as we can! (We still haven't achieved this!) I love my house, and I feel I have grown again in independence and knowledge of life.
I undertook a placement within a mental health recovery setting, and was challenged, stressed, and worn out. I learnt how privileged my life has been and still is, but not to underplay some of the things I go through, because each experience is just as important no matter what the situation.

But I learnt a lot, grew in confidence and my mind and emotions were stretched. I never expected university to be this much of a whole learning experience, but it really is so much more than just getting a degree.

So, 2016, what do you bring? This morning I woke to the sad news that my beautiful Auntie Ruthie has passed away. My family have never lost anybody that close to us before & for this we are grateful, however it now means this beginning of the year will be slightly tainted and rough going. I know though, that our family are a tight, tough unit that will pull through this together. So already 2016 will be a year where family will be a main focus. I will also finish my second year and enter my third and final year of university... & I will try to carry on living peacefully and fearlessly, only letting those who are going to encourage my growth into my heart and loving and forgiving those who need it most.

Horizontal life pause thoughts

So my 4 month summer holiday from University is coming to an end (I go back in 13 days!) and what a 4 months it has been, heck what a year it has been since my blog post last year about starting university! The blog post was called "Adventure is out there" & this is what I wrote.. "I'm off to York in 12 days and I am nervous but excited and feel a total sense of peace that there is where I am meant to be. It has taken a long time, and it's been a tough road but I've made it"  Well as I approach my second year I once again feel like saying "I've made it" (and not just through my own strength!) 

My blog is called "confessions of a pastors kid" so I guess it's time to start confessing..
The first term at university I absolutely LOVED! I was meeting new people, the course wasn't too intense, I was exploring a new town, I was going out and not having to inform anyone where I was, I could buy what I wanted to eat etc etc.. But then second term came and I 100% believed I wasn't going to make it into third term or second year. Everybody I had spoken too about going to university warned me; "second term of first year is a really tough time" and for anybody reading this who is about to go to uni - I'm afraid its true, but PLEASE hang on in there! Second term is the coldest winter months, where the days get dark about 3pm and it rains every hour of the day, mixed with having to make decisions with who you are going to live with for your second year, + for me I decided to get emotionally involved with someone who mucked me around big time, & then I failed a vital exam that was supposed to let me continue on my course. I cried to my mama (sorry ma) saying I was going to transfer to a London university & that I wasn't cut out for social work. (Gulp) 
But I got through! I got a massive kick in the teeth & I passed the exam with flying colours second time around & eventually summer term came and life was (kind of) smooth sailing again - even though the essays became extremely intense. 

So after whirlwind of a rollercoaster of first year it was my long summer holiday time! But honestly this summer has flown by so quickly & I've learnt a lot not being at university too. (I'm a strong believer in the education of LIFE) This summer I really feel like I've grown up (haha) but in the sense of I've worked a lot to earn my own money, I lived by myself for a week (I know, just a week but STILL) which I couldn't do when I was 18 because I was too scared of the boiler making strange noises and the cats jumping on me in the middle of the night! (I do however still cook pasta as my main meal) I've learnt that you have to make choices eventually in life that reflect your hopes and not your fears. I learnt that some people only enter your life for a short while & that it is OK to let people go if you feel they no longer benefit to your mental/emotional/physical wellbeing. I've also learnt that God always knows the right things for you & especially the right people for you & I feel I have recovered well from a bruise that was made on my heart. I've learnt to value the friendships I have up in York & what real adult friendships are about, and most importantly I've loved every moment spent with my family & that family unconditionally love you even when you do really stupid things (such as falling out of a trolley and so making them spend silly hours with you in A&E whilst you reek of last nights alcohol and sweat...)

ANYWAY.

I feel a mixture of emotions about the upcoming year... I have a lot in front of me; Which is SO exciting, because after a brief horizontal life pause (a nap) this afternoon, I awoke and thought how lovely it is that I have things in front of me to look forward too and that for the first time in a really long time I'm not looking back. I'm not looking back at things I wish I had done, or things I wish I hadn't done. I've stopped looking back and trying to win back people I've lost because I am genuinely just so ready to move forward and begin my second year. I'm going to be living with 5 of my best friends (which in itself at the moment is all fun and games and a bit of a novelty) +  I am embarking on becoming a "real life social worker" within my first placement. 

I know of course, that there are going to be challenging times ahead - I am such a home bird & love my family to pieces so leaving them behind is going to tear my heart a little, but the funny thing is I've missed the excitement of coming home. Whilst I live in York, I can plan my train journey's back home and count down the days & that feeling when I'm finally on the train and seeing my family again is indescribable and I'm quite looking forward to having that again! Not that I take my family for granted AT ALL, but absence really does make the heart grow fonder & as I have grown older I have come to realise just how much my family does for me. 

I suppose what I am continually learning is that time flies by and that life goes on & doesn't wait for anybody. Beautiful and terrible things are going to happen to myself, and to everyone else but you can't unpack and stay in the terrible moments. You have too embrace life and all that it throws at you and know that whatever your facing is only for a little while. 

So here we go.. countdown to second year. Bring on the rollercoaster.

A year on

A year ago today I witnessed a young boy commit suicide and it shook me in such a way that I can't even put it into words.  I wasn't the only person who saw that horrific event that day, and sadly I won't be the last person to witness something like that- and I know that there are many horrible things going on in the world that people, including young children have to witness everyday and so I do not want to write this post for you all to feel sorry for me, because believe me I know people have it so much worse- rather I want to write about how that event has changed me as a person a year on and how I have managed to cope living with post traumatic stress disorder. 

The young boy we now know, due to a serious case review decided to end his own life because of family matters- he had stolen £500 from his dad that morning and as his dad had hit him before he did not want to have to go home and face the consequences of his actions. He was terrified and alone of going back to his own house. Now as a trainee social worker and just as a human being in general the thought of anyone not feeling safe in their own home makes me so sad... And I only wish he could of reached out for help and support. I do believe there must have been an underlying anxiety/depression illness that this boy had to decide to do something so drastic; however this is not discussed in the case review. 

The whole situation  in some way has influenced my decision making throughout my degree to where I may go on placement. When I went into social work I wanted to head down the children and families/ adoption and fostering route. However, life experiences (including witnessing this boy's death) made me become more open minded at the types of people out there and all their different needs. I had to write down where I would like to be based and where I wouldn't like to be based: and even though the thought of witnessing something like that again makes me feel sick to my stomach, if I can work with people who are suffering from these mental illnesses, who haven't had the blessed, happy upbringing that I have had and prevent at least one from harming themselves then I am satisfied. So that's where my first placement is; working in a mental health rehabilitating centre; I'm bracing myself for the challenging and emotional times, but as I wrote in my post on this last year- I truly believe every situation we encounter is to build us in character for the future chapters in our life & so maybe it wasn't a case of me being in the wrong place at the wrong time after all...

Obviously before the event I tried my best at being a "nice human being" but these-days I feel more of an overwhelming sense to be and to really try and treat each human being with kindness and be patient and show love to everyone even in the smallest of ways. I read a quote that said "be kind to everyone, for everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about" as well as "you never truly know how broken the person sitting next to you is." Imagine if one small, loving action of ours actually changed someone's mindset for the day or even healed their heart a little bit! 

Being diagnosed with PTSD last year was in some ways a relief because I had a reason for the way I was feeling but in other ways I felt silly because others had seen the same event and where supposingly just "dealing with it" I didn't sleep properly for a month, I cried everyday, I couldn't close my eyes without seeing him fall & I was and still am incredibly jumpy to any loud noise, and would avoid bridges etc at all costs. 

I also feel that there is lack of awareness for PTSD as most people seem to think it's what soldiers get when they come home from war, however it is a lot more common than is discussed, and there are many people out there walking around undiagnosed especially after events like 9/11 and the London bombings and goodness knows how many people in Syria or being captured by ISIS have it. So I know I'm not the only person to have suffered and be suffering but it is an issue that is on my heart and that I have the privilege of writing about. Depression and anxiety are the main mental illnesses discussed today and even though I know it is so important to help and care for the people suffering with these illnesses and raise awareness for them  I can't help but feel that many people believe someone who witnessed a tragic event will just get over it in a few weeks and then be ok, and that there is no need for a label for it. It can be a very lonely time and sometimes feel very unsupported and misunderstood and I know some people will think "why can't she just get over it already" 

I contacted the NHS 5 days after the event as I still wasn't sleeping and wasn't myself and I was fortunate to receive a round of cognitive behavioural therapy and was discharged after 3 months when they believed I could apply the techniques by myself. Anyone unsure of CBT it is a talking therapy which helps you manage problems and changes the way you think. CBT cannot remove your problems, but it can help you deal with them in a more positive way. It is based on the concept that your thoughts, feelings, physical sensations and actions are interconnected, and that negative thoughts and feelings can trap you in a vicious cycle. CBT aims to help you crack this cycle by breaking down overwhelming problems into smaller parts and showing you how to change these negative patterns to improve the way you feel. I still use these techniques today, and the flashbacks are now very few and far between- but this does not mean I do not think of that boy, his family, or that day. Everyday he crosses my mind and I know that July the 17th every year will be tinged with a slight sense of grief. 

So what has this event and this past year taught me? Firstly that the human mind is a powerful tool. What you feed it is so important; feed it positive thoughts and you can heal- fuel it with negative and depressing thoughts and you will sink. Secondly to always believe in yourself, believe that you can overcome anything, that you can conquer whatever it is that's holding you back, and just go for things. Try things. Push yourself out of your comfort zone- make yourself face those uncomfortable situations because that's how you grow. Thirdly, that it is ok to experience a range of emotions & it is ok to talk about them, to not keep them inside as this is unhealthy and harmful. And finally that life really is a beautiful, sacred thing and even if you are having troubles or worries or suffering from an illness of any sort there are people out there who will love you and support you and want you to have the best life possible; do not let any event, experience or person make you not live this life to the full- rather take that thing that happened to you and write it in to the story of your life. 

Maybe its okay...

I was paying for my cans of cola in Tesco's earlier and kept thinking about how TOGETHER my life is when I noticed an elderly man at the check out next to me. He had kind brown eyes and that kind of grumbly low voice some old men get, a combination of a life of cigarettes and ageing. He was husky, but I wanted to hug him. 

I listened to him speak with the girl who was serving him. She smiled, clearly he was a regular and they’d interacted before. He was only buying two chocolate bars.

“For your wife, right?” She asked, but it seemed she knew the answer.

 He smiled, “You know it, she loves these things.

I think it’s so sweet you come and get these for her.”

His entire face erupted into the kind of grin that made me want to hug him.

And he said, so simply, “She does quite a lot for me. I'm more than happy to do this for her.”

And there, in tesco's, actually looking like a hot-mess special on why 20-somethings today suck and don’t know how to do anything, I teared up. Because it was so beautiful. He was just buying his wife chocolate. Because he loved her. And she loved him. And I realised I had approached this whole "letting go" thing in the wrong direction (for me anyway) ...

---

Love becomes an obsession when we lose it. I wonder if it’s a bit like water: something we take for granted when we feel as if we’ll always have it. We replenish our bodies with it. We swim in it. We can even drown, and if nobody is paying attention, we can slip to the bottom of the ocean. But when it’s gone?  It becomes everything. When drought hits, you remember how good it once tasted.

It becomes the ghost hanging out in your old messages. It becomes the dimming memories you desperately cling to, hoping they will somehow ease the blow of reality. It becomes the thing that makes you tear up in tesco's when you see it and realise you don’t have it.

For most of us, an individual sticks out when we hear certain words. Perhaps it’s the person you fear you won’t ever get over. Maybe it’s even someone you never got: a what-if that burns the back of your throat. There’s such a pressure to move forward and just get over it and let it go. (And one I have been writing about and pressuring myself to do) 

I googled ( haha) some articles that will give you tips and ideas on how to "let go"...

Move forward!

Go for a walk!

Date someone new!

Throw away items that remind you of them!

Take a quiz!

Analyse your personality with a free online test!

DO ALL THESE THINGS!

But words have a way of losing meaning. Advice, even when requested, becomes a soundtrack that fades a bit. We ask for things knowing full well we won’t listen. But maybe that’s okay. Maybe it’s okay to not get over someone. Maybe it’s okay that they have left a mark on your heart. You think this is fault. You think this is you being foolish and stuck on a person who is no longer there. You become convinced you are the one in the wrong.

But what if that’s not true? What if we carry pieces of everyone in all that we do and that’s not something to be ashamed of? You are atoms and molecules all vibrating around, but you’re more than that. You are experiences and heartache. You are loving and losing it. And finding it again. You are people you no longer speak to. You are people you will have forever. Even the most self-proclaimed crusty heart has something lingering inside that brought them to that conclusion. We are made up of moments that have brought us here. That’s not bad. That’s the inner-connectedness of the human experience.

So hey, if you’re afraid you won’t get over that one person, don’t worry about it too much. You are still living and breathing. It may have felt like your world crumbled apart when things broke, but the world around you didn't stop. And you didn't either. So keep being and pushing and living. Love again. Trust someone with your bleeding and scared heart, and if they drop it? You will be okay. Maybe you will be the dropper.

The point is, don’t stress if you are taking too long to move forward. Because sometimes, we don’t. That will not keep you from another grand love or a lifetime of satisfaction. It just means someone was important enough to make a permanent impression. You don’t have to get rid of them to make room. You have unlimited space for so many people. So cut yourself some slack. It’s okay to miss someone important. And what I have also come to realise is that there are always people loving people & loving you, even if they are not the person you want. There's still a whole lot of love out there. 

How we let people go

Once again I feel a tad unsure about publishing this post... but here we go!

I have recently had yet another lesson in the art of letting things go. This post may seem melancholy, but I do not want you to feel sad; I want it to be a story of learning the art of letting go & the warning to guard your heart above all else & for everyone to realise that each time you lose something you once held so dear, it is making room for something even more wonderful to enter your life. 

 There is an underestimated art to something one wouldn't consider a skill. It determines the ultimate strength of leaving someone/something you couldn't want more while knowing what you had and what you had hoped for didn't actually exist. 

You’re wondering now, how do you do this? How do you manage to forget about something that had all the potential to be wonderful?

It’s difficult at first. You struggle to forget the inside jokes you had, the deep conversations, the dreams and plans you discussed. You can spend your days wishing you were with him. At one point in time, you saw him as someone who needed to be loved and you couldn't see him in any other way.

But he could. He pushed you away. He uttered cruel words (whether intentionally or unintentionally)  that scarred you. He told you he felt indifferent, he threw insults around like it was second nature, he called you “bro” and he treated you unfairly because he refused to fall in love, yet, you still couldn't back away because that seemingly fragile image of him was all you could think about. No matter how unhealthy he was for you and how entertaining it was for him to hurt you, you still couldn't forget him.

Your best friend warned you, your mind warned you but your heart lay stubborn until you read a text message that finally broke it. You stared at the words too much and annoying and you knew you couldn't continue like this. It was here when this imaginative image of the male that you believed him to be was shattered. He isn't who you thought he was and you can’t change that.

You can’t force people to love you. You can only accept that they will eventually live with the regret of pushing away someone who only wanted to love them.

Now you wait a while, you swallow your tongue and hold your breath because each day you get a little stronger, and you get braver. You come to acknowledge the lessons you've learned of unrequited desire. You understand now not to give your heart away so easily. You've come to realise that in order for people to leave your life you need to let them. The more often you allow this, the easier losing becomes.

Then comes the art of letting people go. Letting someone go — when it is a necessary act of self-preservation, something that has to come if you expect to move forward in life; I personally regard it as a kind of victory. You have successfully overcome an emotional trauma that once surrounded you like a fog. People will tell you, always with the best intentions, that one day you are going to wake up and realise that you are okay, and your life is not immediately over because they are no longer a part of it. And this is true, although this positive does not happen as quickly as we would like. Because it’s not as though you simply wake up one day and proclaim yourself fine, suddenly hearing birds chirp after months of only your own oppressive silence. You simply start to forget, feeling the acute pain of the loss less and less as each day goes on. There will come a day when you don’t care, but you won’t notice it, because you will have other things to think about. You will be busy with a new hobby, or job, or a new set of friends. 

But in order to let that pain go, in order to remove this person from the place of power they have occupied for so long, you must let everything go. Perhaps in a very distant future, you will be able to pick and choose the memories you want to keep, but for a very long time, one memory will always bleed into another. You cannot simply think about the time the two of you stayed up the entire night, talking about your childhood and your dreams and fears. Because when you allow yourself to think about that, it will remind you of them as a whole, and will lead into all of the terrible things that happened after that night — not the least of which being their eventual departure. They exist within us as whole people, stories with beginnings and endings, and in order to let go of them we cannot choose the things we want to isolate for nostalgia.

No matter how hard it is we have to stop caring what they would think if they saw us, stop worrying about running into them, stop obsessing over the things we could have done differently to make them stay. And that means letting go of everything they meant to us, proving to ourselves , that life can be just as good &just as beautiful, without them in it. When you realise, long after the fact, that you no longer care about someone — that what they are doing in life has no bearing on you, and vice versa — it feels very much like a small death. Who they were with you no longer exists, and you cannot even preserve it in your memory, for the sake of your own mental health.

Of course, you never really forget anyone, but you certainly release them. You stop allowing their history to have any meaning for you today. You let them change their haircut, let them move, let them fall in love again. And when you see this person you have let go, you realise that there is no reason to be sad. The person you knew exists somewhere, but you are separated by too much time and too many new experiences to reach them again.

After all, who is more worthy of losing than someone who never understood what they had until they lost you – a person so worthy of keeping.