Tag: fear

Doing

On By rebelwithkindnessIn griefLeave a comment

How am I doing?

A valid question I guess but I don’t have a answer unless it’s ok to just say “doing”. I wake up each morning to a life I don’t want, a life that’s missing so much that it hurts from the first moment my eyes open. I’m trying to be better, trying to behave like life is still worth it, but right now it’s not. I hate that I feel this way, hate that I cannot find the old me who could find joy in anything. No that’s a lie, the old me pretended to find joy.

Faking is my superpower I guess.

I miss my beautiful boy, how hollow are these words, they just feel empty because the depth of my emotions cannot fit into the space of these letters.” Missing Daniel “ doesn’t really comprehend the devastation and the brokenness.

I’m living a life I had never planned for, it’s not a bad life, I like my job and I do wish to progress and grow but it’s hard to enjoy when the reason you are there wasn’t your choice. The reason you aren’t in your happy place loving on your boy wasn’t your choice. You,me, my life. How easy is it for me to feel like a spectator in my own existence. On the outside looking in, not consciously attaching myself to the weirdness of a world that shouldn’t exist, a world without my beautiful boy.

It’s normally about here where I try to reach for the reason, reach for something, or to somehow make it right but there isn’t any right. There isn’t any silver lining, if there are lessons for me to learn well the teacher can go do one, losing one child gave me the opportunity to painfully learn and grow, two has fucking destroyed me.

I don’t feel like there is a way back anymore, the Sara I was has gone, broken pieces are just left behind. Will those pieces come together to reform, knit together to create someone new, I have no idea. Right now they, no i am just broken.

Broken

You cannot rush grief

On By rebelwithkindnessIn Dear Daniel, grief, UncategorizedLeave a comment

Ok ok I’ve made a rookie error. You know this grief business, well you would think I would be be an expert. Losing three children, one would assume I would have this grief journey down. I wouldn’t need the map or sat nav; this journey should be set in my sub conscious, innate directions.

So why oh why am I finding myself trying to rush through to the end. You know the part where you find some acceptance and maybe a little peace. Come on Sara you should know better that this, there are no short cuts and no quick way through. There isn’t even a toll road that costs you a fortune but cuts out half of the journey time. Nope, no chance,not happening.

No matter how much you don’t want it to the pain of grief has to be lived, the reason why is simple , we love.

Right now it’s perfectly ok and right for me to be lost in the pain of losing Daniel. It’s correct for me to find every breathe painful in missing him. My tears should fall and my heart should be broken because I loved my beautiful boy, I love him, desperately.

Changing the sofa around, painting the walls even maybe putting his toy box out of sight may be what I need to do just to calm the waves but a fresh lick of paint won’t erase the memories of Daniel giggling on the sofa, holding him on my lap, snuggling into my chest, nothing will.

There are no short cuts in grief. What is it the Going on bear hunt book says “you can’t over it, your can’t go under it, you have to go through it”.

I know why I’m trying to push through the pain, the truth is I’m scared I won’t survive it. I survived losing Livvy by the love and need of her sisters, I am truly scared I’m not strong enough to survive losing Daniel.

I’m actually really scared of this darkness I feel.

My whole world changed with Daniels death, my identity as his mom, his carer, his nurse, physio et etc all disappearing with his last breath. He was, my purpose, my joy and my reason. My life was planned with him, I still cannot comprehend a life without him. It’s like my mind just won’t go there, a robot stuck moving back and forth “I just can’t compute, I just can’t compute”.

Oh gosh I’ve sat here thinking how better it would be to be a robot with no feelings, no emotions, no grief ; yet I wouldn’t be happy. I’m a person that feels intensely, if you are loved by me, well you get loved my me. I don’t do half measures. I tell myself I will protect my heart again and again but if I had of done that then I wouldn’t have had the gift of Daniel. I got to love and care for my boy for 6 years, I got to wake up knowing cuddles awaited me, that smiles that would fill my heart would bless my day.

I have spoken and walked through child loss with a number of people over the years ( too many ) and the one thing I tell them is it’s ok to feel broken, it’s ok to feel the pain, because you loved. Give yourself time and to be kind to yourself. This wasn’t how life should be.

Missing someone you love will never be easy and it shouldn’t be. This pain, this agony that I feel now it’s worth it, because I got to love Daniel and if I had to live this pain all over again for just one more moment with my boy I would do so.

So right now all I have to do is be, to be whatever I need me to be, to hold on and allow myself to grieve. There is no rushing grief, it sets it’s own timetable just like love does, as it should because grief is the love we cannot give and I love Daniel intensely.

Baby steps

On By rebelwithkindnessIn Dear Daniel, grief, UncategorizedLeave a comment

How i remember my girls taking their first baby steps. Kennedy completely bypassed crawling she was up on her feet before she was one. I mean she wasn’t going to get her dresses dirty rolling around on the floor. Eden was a crawler she walked early but wasn’t fussed how she got somewhere as long as she got there and Livvy well she was a late walker but could crawl faster than the speed of light ( slight exaggeration there but you get the picture.) and of course my baby girl Brodie, her want for

50 pairs of shoes had her up and running early too . I guess what I’m trying to say is we all go at our own pace and we have to allow ourselves time to make those baby steps.

Oh don’t I sound so calm and wise yet the reason I’m writing this is because I was so angry at myself today and felt like I have failed but now on reflection I don’t think I did.

You see I tried to return to church today, we haven’t been in the building since before the pandemic and I knew my anxiety would be high returning but that was when in my plans Daniel was with us. Walking in there today without my beautiful boy was agony. Daniel loved church, he especially loved the worship he would just shout out not always to the tune of the song but who carers he was telling the world how much he loves God. I remember his cheeky way he tried to take over the service when our leader was talking, how the more I tried to quieten him the louder he got. I miss the way he would pull into me when we prayed, when we loved on those that needed prayer and those that didn’t realise that they did. At home Daniel would sit in my lap and when we prayed he would pull me closer to him. Listening intensely to make sure he heard the words, the need.

So yes today was hard but I had been determined to go to church and I mean if you are going to fall apart it’s best to do it with family. I did okay I appreciated my hugs and wishes I was calm and ok well until the worship started. As James’s voice lifted up my heart shattered into pieces. Where was my boy, why wasn’t he here, his voice not there for me to here broke me. I tried and I really did try but be it the words of the song or the emptiness of my arms I had to leave. You know the moment when your crying becomes beyond control your sobs become loud and shallow yes that was the one. So I left, I just had too. Our church leader came and chatted with me and Alan and I calmed myself down but I was so cross at myself , I was cross I couldn’t find comfort in a place that brought Daniel lots of joy. But I just could not.

But you know what, baby steps.

After we left the church we decided to go to the food festival in Lichfield, our plan had been to go yesterday but my grief had other plans. Instead I sobbed until I gave myself a migraine, wasn’t the best of a plan really was it, oh well. Anyway off we went, it was super stressful even parking made me want to turn round and just go home. It wasn’t helped by my husband’s aggravation at the lack of parking spaces and definitely those who do not use indicators. I honestly thought he was going to combust. It’s strange how anxiety can make you feel, Alan gets cross at people, I start apologising for breathing.

Anyway we parked and we walked around the food stalls. I’m not going to say I enjoyed it,the vast amount of people was beyond overwhelming and after shielding for over two years having that many people around me was too much. But it was the missing that got me, now don’t get me wrong there is no chance Daniel would open his eyes at that festival it would have definitely been sensory overload but his missing presence was felt in so many ways. Firstly we just got out the car and left, no checking of bags unclipping of wheelchairs, making sure we have blankets and so on. Secondly we realised today that we used Daniels wheelchair as a ram, pushing through the crowds with the wheels getting knocked not us. It was just so strange even the knowledge that the only reason we could actually be there was because Daniel was gone. Crap that hurts.

So I managed as long as I could, Alan enjoyed a burger which he described as “the best ever”. I got overwhelmed by the choice and came home for my cornflakes.

But guess what I went and tried and last week I couldn’t have done that so as they say , Baby steps.

My beautiful boy.

On By rebelwithkindnessIn Dear Daniel, grief, Uncategorized2 Comments

I have been asked by a number of people if I would share what I said at Daniel’s celebration of life and to be honest I wasn’t sure as it was me being honest and very vulnerable. Then I was reminded that’s what I do I share my heart to allow others to share theirs. So here is my speech please if you don’t like it keep that to yourself because this was literally just for my beautiful boy.

My beautiful boy, my son.

“It is said that grief is the love that you cannot give so right now this pain feels validated, feels true. You see Daniel I love you with every breathe I take. From the moment I met you I fell in love, breaking all the rules but not caring at all. The day you officially came our son it was day that the the legality caught up with what my heart already knew, you were my boy, you were my son.

Thank you Daniel for reminding me of the joy in the world, for allowing me to love you with no restrictions. It has been a gift to be so needed, to be your safe space, to be your person. I’m not sure how to go on with this endless void in my heart but I will try for you. You fought to live with a strength that is beyond comparison, if love could have saved you well we wouldn’t be here today.

How I wish I could hold your hand in mine again, how I could run my hands through your thick crazy hair. How I could feel your head on my chest and your gentle breathing in the place your called home, my arms they ache to hold you. My lap feels empty and lost.

Daniel your Daddy misses you so much, his Grand Prix buddy or sofa naps excuse. How he wishes he could moan again about the number of clothes, shoes, coats you needed, well I believed you needed. How even his fear of animals was lost in your excitement.

Daniel Robert you were a gift, a mind so full of questions always wanting to learn more. Your love of animals was unbeatable, your desire to put your hand up a cows bum unrepeatable.

Your love of nature was inspiring, teaching us to slow down and really take in the glory of our world. We listened to the trees as they danced on the wind, marvelled in the bird song, and cherished the fragrance of the flowers.

Daniel you loved God with all your heart, how I will miss hearing you sing along to worship. How I wish you would try and shout over Tim once again in church . Our prayers, oh my our prayers how you prayed for those you loved with a compassion beyond your years. You prayed so hard for your sisters, for their happiness, their hope. I know you are still praying over them and hopefully having words with the big guy up there.

I used to call you my little old man, childrens tv or music you didn’t care for. The documentaries, zoo programs and of course your complete favourite the Yorkshire vet. I’m going to miss your Dad complaining, so sure that we had fixed a prolapse viewing for every mealtime on purpose. We didn’t but maybe now I will.

Oh Daniel my beautiful boy, You touched the lives and hearts of everyone who met you. Your cheeky Elvis smile, your dirty looks all part of your character that we loved. You were joy, hope and faith all rolled into one handsome cute package.

So many people here today will miss you, your nurses and your flirting, the hiding in your hospital room for sneaky cuddles, you loved them all. Your Drs all inspired by your courageous spirit and your ability not to do it the usual way, always the Daniel way. “That’s Daniel”

Daniel you were a gift to us all, you gave us all hope again, you taught us to love hard once more. Right now I’m not sure I will ever fully love again but I know that’s not what you would want from me. Not the legacy you would choose.

I will feel you Daniel in the wind that blows around me, In the flowers that bloom and in the dancing of the trees.

Thank you my son for giving me the gift of loving you. Thank you for loving me with a need unlike I have every known.

Thank you Daniel for being my son, my forever beautiful boy. Now go dance with Livvy and sit in the arms of Jesus until we meet again.

I love you x”

Christmas present.

On By rebelwithkindnessIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

I cannot believe it’s Christmas in a few days. I have struggled with Christmas for as long as I can remember without going into details I have finally started to understand how childhood trauma can create a fear that may not seem reality to most but to those who have PTSD can be often overwhelming.

This is me.

I’ve tried for so many years to create the perfect Christmas to break the patterns of fear in my mind and to make sure those patterns were never created for my children. I wanted their memories of Christmas to be filled with wonder and excitement. I believe for them I have done this for myself it’s still a game of pretend.

Whilst I love the illusion of Santa I have never played the you better be good card on my children. The gifts they receive on Christmas Day are those bought by those that love them. We honour the tradition of Santa but also we celebrate the birth of Jesus. Yet there is no guarantees on what will be under the tree, yes we have listened to your wishes but also it is what can be afforded etc etc. But for me it’s about teaching the children about the love of the season, not making promises I cannot keep.

I listen to my children and live to see their faces when they receive something that had mentioned a while ago, it’s not about the gift it’s about the being heard.

This Christmas I’m struggling, it’s seems fear is the only thing I’ve managed to wrap and place under my tree. My anxiety has been on steroids I’m so tired of being fearful. So fed up of the nightmares of Christmas past I really wish Jacob Marley would just past to the light and leave me alone.

Christmas spirt just seems to be further away then ever. Yet for some reason this year my acting skills have left me I cannot pretend anymore I’m broken. Please don’t ask me what I want for Christmas I cannot cope with expectations. I was working on them but that Covid bitch stole my progress along with everything else.

I just don’t want to engage with the excess of Christmas I just want to hold Daniel in my arms and read him stories, watch some Christmas films and just be. I don’t want the noise, I want the calm and the peace. I mean Christmas is the celebration of the birthday of the prince of peace so why shouldn’t it be tranquil and gentle.

What do we have to go big and loud?

Why does it have to be too much?

Why does it have to be so full of fear?

Covid of course has done a dirty again on the season along with Christmas carols came the rising numbers. New variants, new restrictions and a new dose of blooming fear. I mean can Santa even visit if he has to quarantine after every sleigh flight? Seriously though how can people build joy without knowing what will happen.

It’s sucks it all sucks.

Yet I’m going to try and fight back, fight through the memories and try and change my own thought patterns. Try to learn to love the season again. Maybe understanding and acknowledging the past will allow me to fully embrace the future. Obviously working hard on your mental health in the middle of a pandemic hasn’t been easy but what else do I do with all this down time it’s not like I’ve been able to go anywhere (yes there is bitterness there). Covid is like a dodgy ex you think he is going away but no comes back with all the extra drama, showing up when unwelcome, bringing chaos and pain with it.

Yet allowing myself to feel has been worth it, sometimes the memories and emotions have felt more than I can face, but face them I have and although I may have boxed a few for another or never time, I have learned more about myself than ever. I know who I am deeper than ever before. Which is a mixture of bad and good, I mean we all have things we wish to change about ourselves.

So I am going to enjoy Christmas not in the excess way of the tv adverts or holiday promotions say it should be but our way. I am going to curl up under a blanket with Daniel and so many stories to share. I am going to veg out on the sofa and watch Christmas films that are cheesy and full of hope. I’m going to enjoy good food without the expectations of fancy tables and decorated plates. I’m going to cook extra and bless my elderly neighbours with a Christmas dinner I hope they enjoy and I’m going to breathe deep.

I’m allowing the past to wash over me and build myself memories that are different. The past doesn’t have to haunt you, you are allowed to leave it when it belongs in the days gone before you.

So bog off Christmas past and hello Christmas present, please leave the chains behind you.

Care

On By rebelwithkindnessIn Uncategorized6 Comments

It’s 3am, I’m exhausted but my son just cannot settle. The awful panic attack he had earlier today at school is fresh in my mind and on my heart. The constant swallowing he is doing makes me realise we are not fully over it. The professionals are calling it separation anxiety, I just call it heartbreaking.

I hate that his history has such an impact of his future. How lack of care can leave such fear?

I’ve read the adoption books, studied to degree level the trauma publications, but none cover him. The complex medical missing in the pages of attachment and trauma. I guess children with complex needs don’t suffer with emotional issues, cue a eye roll of frustration here.

It’s strange but sometimes I feel guilt for not being there at his birth, absurd I know but how my mama’s heart wished he had never to feel unsafe, alone, abandoned. I do wonder if other adopted parents feel this way? I know it’s not rational but love and rationality don’t always go hand in hand.

Oh my heart, how I love my boy, my exhaustion right now pales in my love for this sweet sweet boy. Oh how I wish my love could stop the pain, would take away all fear.

My arms ache, he isn’t a baby anymore, his weight is heavy on my shoulders. His fear is heavy on my heart.

I can hear his breathing now, he is falling deeper into sleep. I need to follow him tomorrow is a busy day.

I’ve spent sometime tonight praying over him, my prayers seem to bring him peace. I ask God to heal his fragile heart, to take away his fear but mostly I give thanks that he found me. Thanking God for the honour of caring for him and the gift of loving him.

Joining in again with five minute Friday.

Sleepless in the middle.

On By rebelwithkindnessIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

I am wondering about life too much, my mind stumbles over the what if’s, the maybe’s, the should be’s. I am feeling lost and I am not sure why.

This last year have been hard on so many, the losses, the isolation, the fear has placed a heavy toll on our society and yes I have missed so much and my worries for Daniel’s health, his anxiety, his fear of people leave me with a uneasy feeling I can not shift. Can I get him back to where he was physically, can I get him back into school, can I stop him having such awful panic attacks? Are all questions I cannot answer right now. Yet I have a quiet acceptance that a pandemic is trying times and holding on to what should be, seems lost in the thankfulness that we are still here when so many others aren’t. The fact that I can worry about Daniel is a gift that I am trying to be grateful for. How strange is that of a statement being grateful for a worry, maybe it’s the fact that I have one child in heaven that I desperately wish I could worry about once again gives me this perspective.

I am trying to be thankful more,I cannot stay in this negative fear based reality anymore, if I do I don’t think mentally I would survive. For months I have been obsessed with numbers, with testing, with symptoms with fear. Frightened that allowing anyone into our lives would be a risk that I couldn’t take. Honestly I have been awful, hating my husband for his RC racing, for talking to someone outside a store, the fear of everything being so overwhelming that my stomach has not settled for months.

So I am trying to fight the negativity in my mind, giving thanks for the vaccine, for the lateral tests, for the research, for the scientists and especially for the wonderful NHS those that haven’t given up when many would have done.

I’m trying to find a balance between safety, protection and living. Daniel and I cannot hide between the walls of our home anymore, I cannot hide anymore.

So as I write this I am in the one of the places I swear my soul knows, North Yorkshire, we visited here for the first time last year and I never wanted to leave. The people, the places, the air all somehow allows my soul to breathe deep. I know my worries and fears haven’t disappeared but in the openness of this country my heart just finds peace.

Its not perfect, I mean today we tried to park our wheelchair adapted van in Whitby and it so didn’t happen, besides people deciding they fancied dicing with death crossing roads, today we just could not find anywhere to park our big van that allowed us to get Daniel’s chair out. So after a rather stressful (husband) drive around the town we gave up and decided to take Daniel to Staithes the little seaside village where Old Jacks boat was filmed. The information we read told us of the lovely harbour, the beautiful quaint cobblestone streets it forgot to mention the heart attack hill to the harbour. Holding on to Daniels chair for dear life as we went down the hill, returning up was well actually fine as I sent poor hubby up to drive the van down. It just wasn’t safe for us to push Daniels chair up the hill the gradient was so high it would be an extreme risk and thats my excuse and I am sticking with it. Also Old Jack’s boat wasn’t to be found. So as I was saying far from perfect but somehow it just felt different.

Full disclosure I am not a great traveller, especially now with Daniel. Anyone who is a parent of a child with complex needs will tell you packing for your child feels like planning an army mission. You cannot just wing it because the things you need cannot just be picked up at the local shop whilst you there. Medications, pads, feeding supplies, formula, syringes the list is endless. This is all after I have done my recognisance on the area, where is the local hospital, will it cater for my child, is there a specialist, PICU etc etc ? The worry of making sure I can keep Daniel safe does weight heavy but again full disclosure he is so worth it all. But yes it does impact on my desire to travel. My girls used to joke I had to say “I wasn’t going” at least three or four times before we finally got into the van. I personally blame them I mean essentials for a weekend away does not mean you need 8 pairs of shoes, also underwear is a must.

Anyway back to my title of this post, its 2am and I cannot sleep yes the heat isn’t helping, yes the desire to suffocate Alan for his snoring is strong but mostly my soul is restless. It’s a weird feeling like I am supposed to be doing something but I just don’t know what. I feel a tugging at my mind telling me something but what it is saying is just out of my hearing.

Does any of this make sense?

I am not sure but for some reason I think change is coming. I don’t feel anxious about this change which is a miracle in itself, but I do feel itchy as if I am ready to get started. Maybe it’s Yorkshire I mean they make the best tea here so I definitely could believe its a county of change, vision and hope.

I am just going to try and get some sleep and see what tomorrow brings. Whatever the sunrise brings with it I will try and be thankful and stay hopeful.

Sleepless in Yorkshire in the middle of what is yet to be.

Desperate

On By rebelwithkindnessIn Five minute Friday15 Comments

I woke last night screaming, somehow my sleep had become a time machine and I was there again in the hospital begging my child to wake. Desperate to see her chest rise again, begging the Lord to save her.

How can 12 years just disappear in a moment?

Yet I know in grief, time is only my enemy.

I miss my girlie so much, how I wish I could just hold her in my arms once more, to just breathe in the sweet smell of her hair.

Grief is a complex devil, playing games with your heart moment by moment, memory by memory.

Does it ever end?

Only with eternity I guess.

Oh I never knew the heart could survive such pain. The crushing weight becoming bearable against my wishes.

I don’t want to sleep again, I had to leave her once I’m not sure I could do it again.

Why does your memory invade your dreams?

Is there nowhere free from grief?

I couldn’t pretend for a while, I could not create the facade of being ok in those darkness hours. So I let the tears fall and as my whole soul hiccuped through my body I allowed myself to miss her.

I let the memories swarm my mind like a tapestry of bees as they create their honey, I created my moments again. I held her in my arms, I heard her sweet giggle of mischief on the symphony of the night and I breathed her in deep and I sobbed.

I still don’t understand why I had to lose her, why Rett Syndrome had to win the battle for her life. Yet I know it wasn’t for the lack of love. My Livvy, their Livvy, your Livvy was loved with the depths of so many hearts.

If love could have saved her life she would be here.

No the question still stands unanswered, our hearts still forever broken.

I couldn’t breathe anymore the tears had tore my soul and I did fall into an exhausted sleep.

I wake still desperate to hold my daughter once again.

The new day begins,

I trust, I breathe and I hope.

Until we meet again my beautiful girl, until.

Joining in again with five minute Friday, set your timer for five minutes and write.

Strong

On By rebelwithkindnessIn Uncategorized6 Comments

“Oh she does so well”

“I don’t know how she does it.”

“She is always in control.”

“She is so strong.”

These words are often spoken over me, as a mom who has faced loss then chose to adopt a child with complex needs people seem to think I’m some kind of superwoman, a special heart, so strong. 

I may be all of those things at times but I have allowed these words to stop me opening up, fearful that in my honesty people would see weakness.  

You see there is beauty in strength but choosing to be vulnerable is one of the scariest things we can do. Allowing our hearts to be transparent, now thats hard. 

Yet I often think strength and vulnerability are the same thing. 

Some days I feel far from strong, I find myself hiding in the bathroom as I let the tears fall. I feel the nausea in my stomach as my legs go from underneath me. 

I feel all of this and in this I am strong. 

When my heart beats so rapidly in my chest and I can barely catch a breath, I am strong. 

In the panic and fear I feel, I am strong. 

Yet I still find myself hiding for fear of judgement, fear of weakness. 

How wrong am I? 

You see life is going to be hard, we were never promised anything different but its in the showing up I realise my strength. 

Yes, adoption is hard, but I show up. 

Grieving is hard, but I show up. 

Being a medical mama is hard but I show up. 

Being exhausted from caring is hard, but I show up. 

Being lost in the anxiety is hard but still, I show up. 

I am strong, I am vulnerable, I am a glorious mess of all these emotions. 

Strength isn’t in not breaking, it’s allowing yourself to fall apart in love.

And then showing up. 

I am no longer going to hide under the words spoken over me but I do choose to stop them allowing myself to be honest. 

I refuse to allow the fear of being weak stop me from being vulnerable. 

My weakness is my strength 

In my fear I am strong. 

I show up. 

Writing again in the Five minute Friday link up.

Write for five minutes on the word of the week. This is meant to be a free write, which means: no editing, no over-thinking, no worrying about perfect grammar or punctuation. Just write. 

Holy cow it’s March

On By rebelwithkindnessIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

Well hello March, what happened to January and February? Oh that’s right Sara you got lost. Lost in sadness, lost in anxiety and lost in defeat.

2021 started wrong, I’m sorry but I survived 2020 by patiently waiting for it to end. Pretending that it’s ok, hiding in a false facade of a comradery of equal suffering. “We are all in this together” “if everyone looks out for another” “we can do this”.

What bull that was, whilst some were hosting garden parties or indoor raves I was still locked behind my door scared to breathe deep.

So 2021 you need to behave, I have no more inspiration for homeschooling. I don’t want to talk to my husband any more and as much as I love Daniel I need sleep and I really really want to hug my daughters.

I cannot pretend anymore and that’s ok but unfortunately in my brain it wasn’t. So January and February I did my familiar act I locked down. I couldn’t disguise my sadness any more so I hid. I found my anger at the injustice of the forgotten vulnerable had started to warp my life view, jealous of others park walks none the less. Shopping trips envied to the point of stupidness I mean who cares that Asda has a new bedding range.

I did it 2020 I survived you but 2021 you need to play fair.

I’m broken…

I’m not asking for a lot, I have no desire or money to travel (lockdown for foster carers didn’t fit the furlong scheme). Just to walk along a beach to feel the freezing cold of the British sea on my feet. To take Daniel to the local farm where he can indulge in his cow stalking behaviour to his hearts content. To eat in a restaurant where someone serves me and washes up.

I want to hold my daughters tight, to be there physically if they need me. To watch Daniel be held by those that love him as we repair his attachment bonds and remove his fear of rejection. To start his therapies again and to do all I can so he gets to live the fullest of lives.

I want so much to be there for my friends, to drink coffee, babysit whatever they need. To be able to hug them when they cry, to be able to listen without being out of reach behind a screen.

I want to people watch with joy again. To be able to see those around me without fear of infection.

I want to not feel so angry, so lost.

2020 I survived you, 2021 behave.