The vows I never said at our wedding

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The vows I never said

Muzz,

When we got married, you were quite in favour of the idea of us both writing our own vows. I said no. Not because I don’t have a million things to say (you know me better than that), or because I didn’t want to share these thoughts with you or others, but because I knew I couldn’t tell you this without wailing like a baby all the way through. Our wedding was a sob fest enough as it was! (Still not letting go the fact you hid behind your shades by the way). So here are my vows. Please do not write any in return, I know that’s not your style. But it is mine, and to tell the world (or my few friends who might take an interest). This being one of the many things you have learnt to accept about me.

As you know I had a somewhat unconventional upbringing. This made me yearn one thing. A solid family unit.

My little family had already begun when we met and I was sceptical about letting you in.

You were pushy.

I pretended I didn’t like that, but I did. It was not only very flattering, it was romantic.

I’m not sure if you’ve noticed but I’m a bit of a fan of romance…

I didn’t know how or when to introduce you to my two year old son who was undergoing a diagnosis of epilepsy, autism and adhd.

I told you that it would happen when I felt ready.

But being you, you showed up at my door uninvited when you knew I was with him.

My instinct was to be upset and turn you away but I was curious to see how the two of you would react to one and other.

You brought a pack of cards with you and in no time at all you were helping him line them up.

This was the first time I realised you really wanted something with me. And, that you were a foolish romantic, ready to give your heart to anyone. (As was I).

Your life had always been fairly simple until I was introduced to it.

Oscar had his challenges and tested us immensely. In our third year together we almost turned our backs on each other.

That was the worst time of my whole life.

We needed that small time apart though to realise that even at our most miserable, nothing was as unbearably devastating as not being together.

So we worked it out and moved forward.

Since then you have constantly surprised me, enlightened me, excited me, made me laugh, irritated the fuck out of me (in the kind of way that would be hugely missed if you were gone…), you’ve believed in me, confided in me, comforted me and taken the time to truly understand me.

And of course given me three more beautiful children.

I am hard work.

My family are hard work. (Many of us any way, sorry guys if you are reading this but look at us? Love you!)

You have always understood that our home is open to anyone who needs to stay.

You have always encouraged and accepted my wild side. (One of the many things we have in common.)

You have forgiven me for the most outrageous and impulsive decision making possible. (cough, horse for a week, never even rode it, gave it back cause it was a demon, and never got the money back…cough).

You support me when I publically open my mouth in ways that often makes you uncomfortable.

You never judge me.

You nurture my need to learn, and to understand people.

You stayed strong when I nearly gave up.

You work like a crazy person because you want our children to have the best.

You are the greatest father and friend a person could be.

You are my everything.

I am fucking crying now.

But I am alone thank god.

See why I couldn’t tell you this stuff out loud?

Because our life isn’t average.

We have been tested more in our seven years together than most are in an entire lifetime. Hell we were in the first two.

It’s exhausting and relentless sometimes.

But you are consistent.

You give me that stability I always wanted.

You give our children stability.

Not to mention non–stop laughter and kindness.

I don’t need anything more.

It’s only human to dream bigger, but we have it all right now. I really believe that.

Thank you.

Also…

…I don’t get it, but thank you, for picking me.

Vikki x

The truth about watching my special-needs son being raised by strangers

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Oscar was diagnosed with epilepsy at 2 years old. By three it was also confirmed that he has autism and ADHD. His father and I split when he was about 18 months. Though apart, we maintained a good friendship and parented Oscar together but separately. Within the next year, I met Muzz (my now husband). Through many ups and downs, the three of us did our best by Oscar and communicated well with each other during the process. 

Oscar was approaching 6 when I had my eldest daughter Susannah. Though he struggled to begin with, I received quite a lot of care (in our home) for him and plenty of family support from my aunts and Oscar’s father so we made it work. We had rough days of course but mostly, we coped. The next year, I fell pregnant again. This time with twins. From the very beginning the pregnancy was hard. I was very sick, anaemic and constantly drained. Oscar’s anxieties increased as I was not able to deal with him in my usual way. His violence was severe. Oscar would fall asleep (exhausted) between 6-7pm every night. By midnight (often before) he would be wide awake. That would be all he slept for the night. I would try to leave him to play but he would trash his room and his things and throw his belongings down the stairs. I also received a number of complaints from my neighbours because of the noise he was making during unsightly hours. To say it was a difficult time is an understatement.
Oscar had been building up to stay over night in the local residential care home (which is actually part of his school). It was to be arranged he would stay there a couple of times a week to give me a rest. In July 2013, my social worker moved him in on a 52 week basis after hearing news of him kicking me repeatedly in the stomach (while I was pregnant). I didn’t fight to keep him home because at that point, I was desperate. No one in our house was coping and nobody was happy.
Since his move, Oscar has blossomed in ways I at one point never could have imagined. His anxiety levels are so reduced now that he is progressing in school. He is able to match all the letters in his name and he is even starting to try and copy the sounds as he does it. Oscar is pretty much toilet trained. Though he has to do it on a timer, he is mostly dry and so pleased with himself for it! My time with Oscar is only positive now. We cuddle, laugh, play. When he comes home he tolerates his sisters and the noise because he knows he can ask to go elsewhere when he has had enough. I am slowly building the time up but I will never force him to spend longer here than he can manage. I am hoping one day he will be ready to stay overnight again. Most importantly, Oscar is now happy. He is content with his every day life, beaming when he comes home and from what I hear, has a great relationship with his dad still. Rationally, I know that this should be enough for me to accept what has happened.
Sadly, and perhaps selfishly, for me this isn’t the case.
At the end of last year I hit a pretty dark depression. I am on my way out of it now I think. There  many factors of course but my feelings about Oscar are the ones I am struggling to come to terms with the most. I am trying very hard to recover. Sometimes my blogs really help with questionable emotions. So I thought I would share my daily struggles.
Here is a list of the things I find troublesome about our situation with Oscar:
1) The automatic shame I feel when people ask about him. I hate talking about him because it just makes me feel sad. And like I have failed as a parent.
2) I feel guilty about how little of me he gets compared to his sisters.
3) I have no control over his diet. I am fairly into nutrition. All of my children eat healthily. I have always lived by the philosophy of ‘if it isn’t in the house, they won’t ask for it’. And they don’t! Oscar was happy to eat what ever snacks and meals I gave to him. Now I have to sit back and swallow my words as I observe him eagerly consuming huge amounts of cereal bars, biscuits, crisps, white toast etc. The actual meals the children are given are fairly balanced as they are delivered by a kind of ‘meals on wheels’ type company but it’s the snacks and amount of sugar he is allowed to eat that upsets me. I just wouldn’t ever have him eating things like that except for the occasional treat. Now he will insist on those foods because he sees the other children in the house with them. Of course they can’t deny him what they have and I don’t want him being treated differently. Some won’t eat anything else so it is of course great when they eat anything at all this is I suppose why they stock such items. Oscar has always loved food and now he chooses sugar constantly throughout the day because it’s an option. Who wouldn’t? I simply have to smile and bare it.
4) The same goes for his wardrobe. I shouldn’t get upset by this but I do. I said to Oscar’s key-worker from the day Oscar moved in that if he needs anything then I want to get it. I am still his mother and want to provide his clothing. The problem is, they now receive the allowance I used to get for him so they have to spend it on him. Sonia is a wonderful person and I couldn’t have asked for a better carer to work with my boy. She really does go above and beyond for Oscar. She does try so hard to buy things she thinks I would chose, and some of them I might. But it’s not the point. I want to feel like I am my son’s mother. At best I feel like a really close aunt. The last batch of clothing I bought for Oscar was handed back to me the next day by one of the members of staff after they rather non-emotionally explained “None of these fit, you may as well take them back.” Of course the person didn’t realise, but that hurt. I don’t even know the right size clothing for my child these days? Ouch.
5) I adore my visits with Oscar. I like to spend time with him at the home and build a relationship (and trust) up with all the staff members as well as take him out and bring him home. There are certain tasks however, I struggle to hang around for. The kind of things that used to be part of my every day life and now I have to watch strangers perform. Like administering his medication. Giving him a bath. Changing him into his bedtime clothes. Putting him to bed. The real I suppose, mundane, parental and necessary duties. I feel actual pain when I watch other people doing these things. True heart ache.
6) I find it very difficult to make myself heard if I do have any complaints as the house is quite understaffed. I actually very rarely have any upsets but over the 2 years, the odd thing has arisen and when I have voiced these issues, they have pretty much been laughed off, like I don’t know what I’m talking about. I like everyone there so much that I don’t want to cause any friction so I generally just leave it. It’s very awkward sometimes.

7) Oscar’s father can not forgive me for allowing Oscar to live there. I understand. He is not a well man so cannot have him full time. And in his eyes, I have a cosy new family and Oscar is conveniently out of our hair. Part of me justifies my new life and embraces it. A larger part of me agrees with him, we all have choices in life and I chose to have more children and risk my abilities to look after my son who needs at least one-on-one with him at all times. I have four children (the girls are 3 and twin 18 months). The maths does not add up. I find impossible to forgive myself for the way things have turned out so how can I expect Oscar’s dad to? This does of course contribute to my unhappiness because in my eyes we are all still family and I care about him deeply.

8) If I envision a future without the belief that Oscar may not one day come home to me it makes me think terrible (some would say irrational) thoughts that I can’t control. Quite frankly, I don’t want to go on if that is to be my future. All I need to be happy is all my children, under one roof. I picture us somewhere self sufficient where we live of the land and our animals. Somewhere quiet and safe. It may be a romantic thought but it’s a dream that I use to get me through the days. Not entirely unachievable. One can live and hope.
I’m sorry if this is coming off bleak, but it’s reality. We are living a very complicated situation. I don’t know of anyone who can relate to my yearning. I don’t know if I will ever be OK. Maybe I won’t?
I just need to hang on to the truth, Oscar is happy. It may not be because of me or anything I have done for him as a mother but he is. The way he has advanced over the past couple of years, proves that he may one day achieve anything he desires. And he might come back to where I feel he belongs. Until then, I have to clutch on to any beautiful moments we share together and use that warmth to smile when I talk about him instead of cry. Until then I have to be grateful for how much fantastic support we receive as a family when so many people out there are struggling. Until then I have to remind myself that it’s better that I continue with a lugubrious hole in my heart than Oscar not gladly thrive and grow. It is a sacrifice. One that benefits him for now. That is of course what matters the most.

If I were gay…

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IF I WERE GAY… A friend  of mine came out as ‘bi sexual’ last year.   Did it change anything between us?   Of course not.   Did I see it coming?   I hadn’t thought about it but it didn’t surprise me.   Did it change anything for me?   Yes. Naturally being a self indulged human being, it made me analyse my own sexual existence.   I‘m not going to talk about labels. I don’t care about any of that. I believe anyone should be able to be, do, wear, make love to and call themselves anything they want (obviously as long as no-one is getting hurt). I believe in kindness, compassion and respect for other living creatures and the planet we share. Anyway, now i‘ve made myself sound like a complete self righteous hippy, I will get back to my point. I want to talk about two things:   1) Why it doesn’t matter whether we are attracted to men, or women, or both   2) I’m hoping to clear up any phobias that some people might hold over people being ‘gay’.   I am in a committed, straight relationship. Engaged actually. So obviously I am not looking for a mate. I occasionally meet people where for about five seconds I’m like “ding-dong hello there!” but it never goes further than that for me. As a couple we are happy and secure and we are both stubbornly loyal by nature. That for us means sharing a life together openly and honestly and (of course) monogamous sex. This is a concurrence we made from the beginning- we both chose to live like this which is why we work as a couple. Other people have different standards and in my opinion that is none of our business and should be approved by everyone (as long as both partners are happy and in agreement).   So about my friend. Her name is Lola (she’s not a showgirl). It was a big deal for her to ‘come out’. It is of course for most people. Admitting to your loved ones that you aren’t conventional, and are (or dream of) having sex differently to how society expects is extremely difficult. I think the biggest qualm someone in Lola’s position suffers with is the fear of rejection. No-one wants to be rejected, especially by the people that they are closest to.   Back to me. Like many others, my family contains members that are valuable to me but we clash on most opinions. They are intelligent people but often use the ‘generational’ excuse to be ignorant about things. If everyone did this, there would be no moving forward with anything. At what age exactly do we decide that we are too old to ‘move with the times’? No-one is too old to do that. We should all strive to think openly and be more accepting shouldn’t we? Surely the more we age, the more we have learnt therefore the more understanding we should be?   When I was about 12, I remember saying to a relative, “What if I’m gay?”   Their response was hilarious. She said: “Don’t be silly, of course you’re not, you’re far too feminine.”   OK…   Well what she didn’t actually know was that my first love/crush (whatever you want to call it) was in fact a girl. We were good friends going through puberty together. We were young and sexual and things between us often got heated. It never felt wrong. But it was also never spoken about really. It was entirely animalistic and teenage. However, things did end badly. Rather than parting ways gradually like many friends, we literally had a ‘break-up’. One day she told me that she didn’t want to hang around with me anymore and that was it, we never associated with each other again. I never really got over that.   Whether that experience makes me ‘lesbian’ or not is debatable. But actually, I don’t think it matters. It was what it was.   Since then I have only been in relationships with boys. I have occasionally been attracted to girls but I was never confident enough to explore this. I remember seeing a few girls in my late teens/early 20s that I liked. Once I was really drunk I would sometimes buy them a drink, bring it to them and walk/run away pretending it was just because I was weird. I just wanted them to notice me I suppose. I never thought about this as an ‘attraction to members of the same sex’ but looking back at it, that’s exactly what it was. One of these girls even invited me back to hers and we kissed a bit. We were teenagers and all my friends were experimenting, snogging eachother, drinking, drugs. Some even cutting themselves. So I never thought about my actions as ‘lesbian’, they were just adolescent.   So when Lola spoke to me about her situation, it made me reflect on this.   I think the main reason I wouldn’t have dared venture in a relationship with a woman, at that young age, was because I was very vulnerable anyway. I feared rejection so hugely that I couldn’t face ever being perceived differently by my family. The way I heard some of them speak of people who were homosexual was not kind. So I have decided to try and clear up any confusions or worries that may have occurred to them if I had indeed attempted being in a same sex relationship. Not because I want to run off with a woman or anything, but because I don’t think parents’ should influence their children in that way, or fill them with  judgements or fears of being (or being around) something quite ordinary and harmless. Being homosexual is something I just don’t believe that in this country, at this time should be viewed negatively. So really this isn’t about my family, it’s about all families that would have trouble accepting a fellow family member or friend as being ‘gay’. So, let’s pretend when I met Muzz (my fiance) he was a woman. Let’s call her Muzzina. All the same things… we met, we were hugely attracted to one and other, we soon realised we liked each other for other reasons too, we had the same visions for the future and the same morals. If this happens (which is of course quite rare) it is usually the recipe for falling in love. Once that transpired, it was normal for us to want to start introducing eachother to the other people we love in our life. But if I had said to these people, “I have met someone, I think it’s serious: would you like to meet HER?” Some of them would have freaked out.   I am going to try and guess the things that might run through their heads in this hypothetical scenario that could spur such disapproval.  Here is a list of these thoughts followed by my responses to them.  

  • “No kids for you guys then.”

  Obviously, being in a same-sex relationship complicates the art of having a child. It does not however terminate the dream. All couples that hope to become parents can experience challenges. If the couple are happy, in love and want children, it is perfectly acceptable for them to want to be parents. And of course explore all the options available to them to do so.  

  • “It’s not natural”

  Ok, who decided that? Most wild animals fornicate with members of the same sex. What’s strange about that? If there is a mutual sexual attraction, why not act on it (in most circumstances)? I am not religious, but if I was, I might be asking, why did God design a man to have a g-spot up his arse? Maybe it was to give him a choice. If that’s not natural, I don’t know what is. All consensual sex is natural (that I can think of). Let’s get used to that?  

  • “It’s perverted’”

  Well maybe stop picturing other peoples’ intimacy then. Perhaps that’s the thing that’s perverted.  

  • “Is this my fault?”

  Being in a gay relationship should be as everyday as being in a straight one. It is nothing to be ashamed of. Therefore there is no-one to blame for anything. Also, it’s not something that is decided for a person. It’s an instinctual drive on an imaginary continuous line. One end is gay, the other straight. Everyone is somewhere on that line. No end is right or wrong. One friend said to me recently: “I’d probably go gay in prison, you’d have to wouldn’t you?” I suppose I see the logic in this as the majority of people you would be surrounded by would be of the same sex- so it’s slimmer pickings. However it is not the limited selection that makes you ‘gay’. It’s being attracted to members of the same sex. If you can see this happening to yourself in an extreme situation, why rule out the possibility that it could happen anywhere?  

  • “I thought I knew you”

  My sexuality is not the be all and end all of who I am. I still love the same food, the same tv programmes, the same clothes. I still have the same talents, ideas and preferences. Nothing has changed except your vision of me. This is your problem, not mine.  

  • “Is a phase.”

  Maybe. Who cares? Just invite Muzzina over for dinner and get to know her like you would with anyone else! If we break up, be there for me. Give us a chance as a couple because you want to see me happy. That should be what matters.  

  • “What will our friends think?”

  The good ones will admire your acceptance, modern open-mindedness and unconditional love for your family. Anyone who thinks badly of the situation, or you, is probably not worth a friendship.   And a couple of extra clear-ups for other outsiders looking in:   If you do have children, will they grow up unbalanced? Don’t you worry that they might get picked on?   The only thing dysfunctional about members of the same sex raising a child together, is the harsh and bigoted judgements they may have to receive from people around them. But don’t we all live with those? I have a son with autism and he is judged all the time for his behaviours as am I for my parenting. There is never going to be a set up that everyone approves of. All I can say is if a child is being raised with love and kindness then that is a good start in life. A start that sadly many children aren’t lucky enough to receive. As far as the child being unbalanced, again, that’s nothing to do with their parents being gay. It’s about the child having needs that perhaps the parent’s know nothing about. Look at Billy Elliot! He just needed support and acceptance. His dad did not need to become a ballet expert to make the story have a happy ending. All any of us can do as parents is our best. If there is something that our children feel the need to visit another member of family or a friend to be open about, then so be it. It is better than them bottling everything up and becoming unhappy. Obviously just because people chose to be in a gay relationship, it doesn’t mean they don’t associate with people of the opposite sex. We all grow up aspiring to everyone in our lives, not just our parents. So there will always be people of both sexes for our children to turn to for advice. Also when it comes to bullying, there are continually reasons to make fun of another person. I was bullied for the size of my teeth. I got over it and so did the bullies. If we can teach our children to accept and be proud of who they are and where they come from, and not to judge others, then the bullying will lessen as time goes on. If it doesn’t and it’s time to do something about it, that’s a separate issue. My point being, (once again) it’s not parent’s being gay that causes bullying- kids do it anyway.   Does that mean you fancy everyone? Are all your friends potential lovers now?   All of us can assess our friendships and think, am I attracted to this person? In my opinion, the truth is, if you have to ask then you probably aren’t. If you are and the feeling is mutual, it would be obvious. That’s a connection that most people can observe. If you once were but the feeling wasn’t reciprocated then the chances are you have moved on. But what ever sex we are attracted to, nobody wants to go to bed with everyone. It’s a relation that happens and is bilateral. Just like straight people. So if your friend has ‘come out’ no they probably don’t fancy you, and if they did, they are so over you because you didn’t fancy them. Unless you do, then who knows, maybe there is a romance to come? And what’s wrong with that?!   I can’t think of any more concerns that I have heard cross the minds of people who would rather their associates and relatives be straight. As you can see (I hope), what I am trying to get at is: if everyone accepted that we have the right to shack up with either sex then we would all have a lot less to complain and worry about wouldn’t we? I am lucky enough to live in a country that has a pretty good understanding of homosexuality. I recognise this is not the case everywhere. If we can start the acceptance at home though, in our own circles, no matter where we are from, then that is a wonderful step in the right direction. Let’s all get along and love people for who they are not who they are shagging.

The pride that makes us human

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The pride that makes us human   The pride that stops him from claiming benefits, even though he regularly borrows from his family and never pays them back.   The pride that makes her hurt her child because she can’t admit she has a problem.   The pride that allows him to continue ordering in the troops even though he realises there is no hope for survival.   The pride that fuels her lying even though she causes more pain every time she does it.   The pride that denies him love because he is attracted to people of the same sex.   The pride that blocks her from being promoted even though she is better than the rest at the job.   The pride that forbids him from following his dream because his religion won’t allow it.   The pride that restricts her from following her religion because her society won’t allow it.   The pride that stops him from leaving even though she cheats every day.   The pride that prevents her from reaching out even though she has long gotten over their fight.   The pride that limits him from believing in himself because everyone else has given up on him.   The pride that hinders her ability to admit she has a problem even though she uses every day.   The pride that stops him from becoming a woman even though he is one inside.   The pride that prohibits her from acting because the rest of her family are doctors.   The pride that permits him to continue doing his job even though it’s hurting the future of our planet.   The pride that refrains her from agreeing to flick the switch even though he will never wake up.   The pride that abstains his ability to love because it would mean tearing down a wall that he has spent his life building.   The pride that denies her the right to make her own choices because they think she is too young.   The pride that prevents him from redemption because no-one sees him as anything more than the mistakes that he once made.   The pride that prohibits her from listening even though she can see the pain her loved one is in.   The pride that barricades him from accepting her because no-one in his day would have done.   The pride that restricts her from leaving the house because she doesn’t like the way that people stare.   The pride that delays him from getting better because his family don’t believe in medication.   The pride that prevents her from dying peacefully because his loved ones aren’t ready to let go.   The pride that forestalls his need to share his pain because he has to decide without their judgement.   The pride that pushes her hurt people because she has only ever been hurt.   The pride that keeps him from enjoying his food because people respect him more now he’s slim.   The pride that limits her from saying yes because she’s scared of what other’s will think of him.   The pride that halts his ability to let her go even though she can never be happy with him.   The pride that stops her from her from telling because she thinks it’s her fault.   The pride that obstructs him from respecting her because she sells herself, even though he went looking for her.   The pride that makes her feel at risk in her own home because she wasn’t born there.   The pride that ceases an animal’s existence because his wants and needs are more important.   The pride that keeps her from altering the way she views things, even if it were to help her become a better person, even if it would mean that she at last could be content, because she doesn’t want to change.   The pride that makes us control, judge, hate and kill.   The pride that ultimately will end our existence. The pride that makes us love someone even though they aren’t the best at anything.   The pride that gives us the want to assist each other.   The pride that makes us to put our own lives at risk to help eachother.   The pride that braves the risk of ridicule because they want to see a change.   The pride that means living on less to support someone else more.   The pride that makes us drop everything to be there for someone.   The pride that gives us happiness when we see our own reflection, no matter how much our bodies and minds have been through.   The pride that helps us listen and absorb and want to understand.   The pride that makes us sorry and want to do better.   The pride that makes us forgive.   The pride that inspires us to talk of someone with tears in our eyes.   The pride that encourages us to unite and spread awareness.   The pride that causes us to want to get up for work every day.   The pride that makes us want to share a life with someone.   The pride that we dedicate to helping others move on from their pain.   The pride that spurs us to work to understand mental and physical health problems, disabilities and gender issues.   The pride that pushes us to save lives.   The pride that emboldens us to look for love.   The pride that helps us find it.   The pride that gives us freedom of speech.   The pride that motivates us to fight for our rights.   The pride that creates charity.   The pride that urges us to stand up for our planet and nurture it.   The pride that sparks us to feel compassion.   The pride that goads us to hug another person.   The pride that energizes us to give another chance.   The pride that inspires us find a way.   The pride that makes us give away.   The pride that makes us keep things.   The pride that creates art and music.   The pride that builds communities and culture.   The pride that triggers us to want to educate.   The pride that sparks us to learn and grow continually.   The pride that helps us make the best out of a bad situation.   The pride that makes us appreciate.   The pride that aids us to respect a life.   The pride that encourages us to respect ourselves.   The pride that provokes us to say goodbye.   The pride that causes us to find a cure.   The pride that makes us realise that some things never needed a cure.   The pride that keeps us determined.   The pride that makes us go to bed with a smile on our face.

Coming to terms with anxiety

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I like to be busy. Well I say that, I’ve only ever known… manic I suppose. I had about of year of utter laziness in my teens and that was great! But apart from that, yep pretty bloody mental.   You may have read my other blog- the autistic diaries which was about my son Oscar. Oscar is now nine and living in the residential part of his school full time. We have had quite the journey. He is flourishing and I couldn’t be prouder. Even if I do live with a permanent rain cloud of guilt, showering over my thoughts; knowing that he is not with me, the way a child should be. Sometimes one has to put pride aside I guess, and do what they believe is best for everyone in their family. That is what I’ve done, I hope.   I have three other children.   Susannah is three on valentines day. Being born into a household that (at that time) was hugely dominated by her brother’s needs, has given her a naturally helpful manner and heart full of compassion. Her understanding of other’s emotions and needs surprise me every day. Don’t be fooled though, the girl has confidence. She is wholly observant, yet also manages somehow, to keep all eyes fixed on her. A winning combination.   Then there are my twin daughters- Rosie and Berry. They are just over a year old. They are identical and fascinate me constantly. Within their first weeks on this Earth, their differences in character were evident. Yet somehow, they are completely and perfectly the same. They are perceptive, dainty and careful. With a cheeky glint of something extra.   I truly am the happiest I have ever been. There is so much love in my life it overwhelms me.   I live in a strange panic about my daily contentment. My children are all so fantastic. I have the most supportive, kind and idiotic (in a good way) partner who I share this glorious life with. My friends and family are so very beautiful, talented, interesting and giving. We have a modest and messy home that is warm and is ours. Yet I can’t shake the reality that it is all temporary. I feel like all the birds of paradise have chosen to live on my roof and sing me the worlds best music everyday, with plans to one day move on forever without looking back- leaving me utterly alone in my silence.   Most new parents will relate to these feelings. When you watch your tiny, innocent and thoroughly vulnerable newborn sleeping, it hits you- nothing else matters now, without this person, life is no longer worth living. And then you check every 30 seconds to make sure they are still breathing. No parent can prepare for this kind of love. It consumes you and alters you in ways that are absolutely out of your control. I think it is the most wonderful thing that can happen to a person. But the underlying angst that comes with it is hard to bear and in my case, impossible to cast aside.   I’ve have been ‘anxious’ since my teens. When I was eighteen it was really bad. I was obsessed with the world ending. I used to imagine Milton Keynes glass shards soaring for miles and chopping everyone in half. My breathing and heart would accelerate so much that I then thought I was going to have a heart attack. Then there was the addition of how odd I was being. I would have to count my footsteps all the way home to deter my thoughts from obsessing on death but when I arrived home to safety, I would then be tormented with the concerns that what I kept doing was abnormal and that maybe I was going mad. This was (and still is) an easy conclusion to jump to as my family has a history of mental health problems of many kinds. That for me is the most terrifying thing that could ever happen. Losing my mind. Losing everything because I’ve lost my mind. Then I discovered alcohol. This took the edge off. I could quite easily have let that deplete me.   I didn’t know about panic attacks at this point. It was thanks to a good friend that I learnt about these. Tessa was staying at my house when she was  awoken by me making a phone call. I was in a hysterical mess on the bathroom floor telling NHS direct that I thought I was dying. I am still always in awe of Tessa’s knowledge and experience. At this young age, she knew exactly what was going on and what to do. After calmly taking the phone from my hand and hanging up, she held my hands, looked into my eyes and told me I was having a panic attack and that everything was going to be OK. Everything was OK after that.   I mostly learnt to anticipate and curb the attacks from thereon.   As an adult I have mastered how to avoid the majority of the scenarios that trigger my anxiety (without out the use of alcohol). Though one cannot control everything. Every few years, something will happen that will set it off to a point where I don’t want to interact with the outside world. During these times, my skin will hurt, my heart will feel offbeat and jumpy, sometimes I shake, I will cry in strange unpredictable outbursts, something large will manifest in my throat and won’t go away and indigestion takes over my insides so I find it hard to eat. I even break out in spots. Then there are the thoughts, the maddening voices that haunt every minute of those times: “You are going to lose everything.” “You are crazy already and soon everyone will leave you.”   I have however trained myself to make music and/or exercise when I’m cemented in this dark place. After a few weeks, it usually subsides. I have not yet needed medication as my life balance has not been too affected at this point. If I thought it was necessary though, I would not say no to giving it a go . Especially if I knew I was making my loved ones miserable.   Strangely, I believe existing with anxiety has many positive attributes to offer to life as well. It fills me with a constant need to  ‘live for today’. People think I’m nuts because I express so much love all the time, because I need them to know, right now how I feel about them. It’s an urge so strong and passionate, I can’t shake it. This love is overpowering and exquisite and I feel so lucky to have it there reminding me how beautiful people are all the time. And without the intention of sounding cheesy, it’s the hideousness in the world that highlights this beauty. Which somehow makes even the most unseemly situations appear alluring. Like the people that make sandwiches for their neighbours after an earthquake. That’s human nature, or part of it. That sort of kindness is hidden in our usual everyday hustle and bustle. It’s the horror of the earthquake that brought these simple but tender actions to the surface. Living with anxiety, makes me feel like an earthquake is always about to occur, so I guess that makes me aspire to be the type of person that would indeed display that sort of kindness regardless of whether the earthquake actually takes place. As well as take pride in the graciousness of anyone I spot doing something extraordinary. These things make me uncontrollably happy! This must be a good thing?   I also think dread should make us give people the benefit of the doubt each and every single time someone screws up. (I am not talking about evil here- that is another topic altogether. I am speaking about unfavourable actions that people take, or even characteristics that they maintain and why it should not define their entirety.) When you know the world is ultimately going to end, it is of course terrifying but at the same time it could help us refrain from seeing only ‘wrong’ or ‘bad’ in most daily situations. Fear is a powerful motivator. It can help us put things into perspective. If we viewed everything as a stretch of  very limited time we might be able to evaluate multiple options of outcomes for certain scenarios. When some of the options are positive, we could place all our energy into realising as long as there is hope, it’s not the end for anyone. If we as a majority held on to that, fewer people would give up on themselves I think. We all need people to believe in us. So if someone lies, steals, hurts or falls so low it’s hard to imagine them in a good place, perhaps believing in forgiveness, fresh starts and practising compassion will give the people around us a chance to redeem themselves. The opportunity to reflect, learn and grow, and most importantly, to want to do those things. I certainly would like those chances from people when I fuck up. I don’t want there to be a limit to them. I truly believe we can love anything better. I also believe, within certain circumstances, we are all capable of most wrongdoings. Therefore, no-one is better than anyone else. I conclude from my experiences so far that most people are good and everyone is shit sometimes, sometimes more often than not. But that is not all they are. I think we could all use a constant reminder that loss of any kind trumps (pretty much) anything else when it comes to hardship. Then we might all learn to value the love we share. We could all live a ‘Richard Curtis’ kind of life. That would be the best.   So (in perhaps a rather accidentally self-righteous kind of way- Let me assure you, these are just random thoughts that occurred to me recently and I do not think myself any kind of guru, far from it), I’m just trying to say, with every bad there has to be a good. Every time I think about loss, I am reminded of how much I love. Anxiety fills me with the constant fear of loss, therefore I feel this hugely emphasised and unbelievable pang of love all the time. And love is better than anything. It’s what connects us with others and makes life beautiful. So I am actually grateful for this strange condition.