7 Years of change.

 

Seven years ago my life was completely different. It’s almost hard to recognise my old life now.

 

I came home from University one afternoon to find that all my belongings were all sitting in the garden. My boyfriend at the time, who I was absolutely besotted with; had decided to kick me out. Only that morning he had said for the one thousandth time how much he loved me, and wished me a nice day. By the afternoon? Apparently I was homeless, with no explanation. This was the breakdown of the worst relationship of my life. A masochistic, manipulative, tragic one that I was completely blind/immune to; and so I was left heartbroken. My brother had to drive to another city to pick me up, and help me pack up the fragments of my shitty life.

Moving back in with my mum and brother meant I was now living out of boxes, in a tiny room. I had no goals, no joy, no wanting to leave the house. I dropped out of University, not only because of my depression, but because of sheer disinterest in the course I had chosen. I had no job, because of moving back to Liverpool with no notice. I stared at the same four walls and refused to get out of bed some days. I was like the living dead, just getting through each day somehow. My parents tried to bring me back to life, my friends tried to understand, and I tried not to hurt myself.

And then my Dad died.
It was late November 2010, and I was staying the night at a friends in Manchester. We’d get drunk, and I’d forget things for a little while. On this particular night, I realised at about 2am I hadn’t called or text my Dad, which was strange. You see we spoke every single day, even if it was simply a goodnight text, he absolutely always got in touch, or I did. Nothing that night. I didn’t want to text late and worry him/wake him up, so I decided I’d call the next day.

We never got that call, and I have spent the last 7 years wondering if I could have had one last goodbye.
When I got the news of what happened, I felt myself crumbling.

The next few hours after finding out were a blur, and my sheer hopelessness can be captured by this one post I put on Tumblr that very night.

What a sad, sorry state of things to be typing on Tumblr, attempting to process the death of my father.

The next few months were a sickening haze of grief, depression and loss. The thing that upset me most though, was feeling that I had let my Dad down. For the past year, he had watched my life fall apart, and watch me become an empty shell of the person he knew and loved. He saw me break apart, and never got to see me pick myself back up again. I felt like I’d wasted the last of our precious time together. This still breaks my heart even now, but it fuels me to live each day to the fullest.

Ironically, the death of my father impelled me to live again. It was like I’d been stuck underwater, and now I’d been brought up to the air again. Each breath was a painful fire in my lungs, but I was breathing once again.

Life was painful, sharp and more real than ever before. But I was no longer the living dead, I didn’t have time to waste.

 

I had already been talking to Gary every single day on Tumblr, Skyping, and texting every spare moment we got. We decided to finally meet in May 2011, and we’ve been together ever since.

I started working and making an effort to make new friends, as well as reconnecting with old friends. I was creating again in my spare time, inspired to write, paint, draw, and try new things. I started to push myself and believe in myself again, the way my Dad would have wanted.

I started a blog.

It’s not hard to see how drastically different my life is now.

I create art and write this blog for a living, and I am truly blessed that people support that.
I have a house, in a wonderful place, with my fiance who has never gone a day without making me feel loved.
I have friends far and wide, who make me laugh and encourage me to be myself.
Perhaps the biggest change of all; I have plans. I have ideas about what I want for my future. I wake up each day motivated, and really, truly happy. I’m not that living dead girl, hiding under the covers not wanting to face the day.

 

The reason I wanted to share this today, was to help show that no matter how bad life gets; things can always change.

Change happens, and we can survive anything.
If today is the worst, cruellest, most painful day of your life; I am so sorry.
But you WILL get through it, and you will look back one day in almost disbelief at how different things are.

 

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