Something made me want to write it down.

 It's May, 2021. This past year has changed my life completely. I know I'm not the only one, the Pandemic has changed society drastically,  and I think for ever more. Many people have sadly lost their lives, their loved ones, lost their jobs, their homes, and possibly a fair few have lost their sanity.

Me?

I've lost who I was.

This is not a sob story.

I think I lost who I was a few years ago, I've just been hiding from that fact. I've had a year now to reflect on that. A year suffering with what they're calling "long covid".

I am different, because of the illness. I've lost a lot of my mobility, my health in general, but it's not what's hit me hardest. The realisation that I've been coasting for several years is what's really struck me now I've had all this time to think.

I'm a artist. Art is embedded in my heart and soul. It's always been my escape, my safe space, my joy, and for some reason, (mostly financial), I've avoided it for several years.

I have painted. I've painted for profit. I've tried to churn out things that I hope will sell. The problem is my heart wasn't in it. I lost my way.

Now I struggle to paint. The pain I'm in restricts me. So in the few moments I get to sit at my desk and touch my brushes, squeeze out fresh paint, mix and discover new shades of pure joy, I'm in my own heaven again.

Before the Pandemic I was working as a carer. I loved my job, I loved the people I cared for. That role brought me joy on a whole other level. I was hoping to combine the two at some point, to have some creative time with the residents, to pass on some of what makes my heart sing. Sadly, that doesn't seen to be an option anymore. I'm most definitely mourning the loss of that idea.

Anyway, here I am.

Mostly confined to my home.

Picking up brushes on good days and trying to "find myself" yet again.

I think this will be a long road. 


I'm writing this all down for my girls, my beautiful, amazing, clever, kind daughters. (I know that sounds cliché but it's true, and I know I'm very lucky).

I want them to know that a light burns bright inside of this wreck of a body, and I'm trying my best to let it shine again.

There is hope.

X


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

It's been emotional.

 My girls lost their grandad a few weeks ago. It was his funeral this week. He had been ill for a few months and we knew it was terminal, but he went sooner than expected. On one hand a blessing for him, on the other a terrible shock and tragic loss for everyone around him. He was a good man, and he will leave a huge hole in their hearts. I've always struggled with loss. I don't know what to say to people when they are grieving. I detest platitudes, and even when I speak from the heart I feel somehow my words are lost. There is nothing you can say to make things better, and I find that so hard to deal with. Seeing loved ones in pain, physical or emotional is so hard. There have been hugs, and reassuring words, but I still feel like I haven't done enough. The most important thing, in my mind, is that they allow themselves to grieve, because I know from experience that tucking your feelings away and getting on with life becomes a cancer that slowly rots you from the inside ou...
Read more

Grandma, my lovely mum.

 It's Saturday 22nd February, 2025. I haven't been here in a while. Lots has happened, good and bad, in the last few years. Perhaps I'll write about some in another post? This post, is about my lovely mum. Mum & I have had a tumultuous relationship over the years. Her undiagnosed bipolar was difficult to deal with, for her and the people around her. In the past few years, since the pandemic really....she's been a lot softer, a lot easier to get on with. Her mood is more stable, and her body doesn't allow her to have the manic episodes it used to take her on. It's been tough over the years, but I love my mum to bits. She's kind, and thoughtful, and loves her children and grandchildren deeply. Just over a week ago I got a taxi to mum's with the aim of cutting her hair and helping her tidy up. A very house-proud mum had become a bit of a hoarder in the last few years, and the place was untidy and in need of a clean.  I'd been in hospital with RSV ...
Read more