There was a time when the world was different, and there was a girl who loved to live. Nothing frightened her, for there was nothing in the world to be scared of. Every day was a new adventure, and she travelled far and wide. From the snow-tipped opulence of Moscow to the smoky, whiskey-soaked bars of Newcastle with the music turned up to eleven and thudding in every dark corner, she threw herself into them all. She was fearless, and the world rewarded her with memories to be treasured and friendships to be cherished.
That girl was me. I feel as if I barely know her these days. Ten years have passed since then, and now I'm a mother. That isn't what changed me. Becoming a mother only made me braver and stronger, for now I have to be brave enough for myself and my daughters too. It's hard to hold onto that, though, when your body and mind turns on itself and seems determined to destroy everything you hold most dear.
Life for me now has a very clear divide. There's my own tiny little world, condensed into the four walls around the four of us that hold us together and keep us safe. Then there's Outside. Outside, my anxiety whispers to me, is a Bad Place, where Bad Things happen. My beautiful daughters are far too precious to risk taking them Outside. Anything could happen to them, and it's a risk I dare not take. Crossing the road could end in disaster. That dog bounding along happily next to its owner could slip its lead and turn on my girls at any moment. Any of us could trip and fall, or we could end up stranded if the bus breaks down. That crowded shopping centre? Thousands of people I don't know, and any one of them could be the person who turns our lives upside down. I can't trust anyone but myself to keep my girls safe, and so it's far better that we don't venture Outside. If we don't venture beyond the front door, where it's just Mummy, Daddy and our girls, we can all stay safe.
But I sit here now and watch my two daughters in their two golden tutus, playing together without a care in the world. They don't care about Outside. They don't understand the terror that grips me when we go through the door, and they can't comprehend the misery and despair that seems to be my constant companion these days.
It's for their sake that I know I have to beat this. Some days it feels so very tempting to hide behind the front door and keep Outside away, but all they know is that Outside is where the fun begins. There's school, there's the park, there's the local pet shop with its mismatched assortment of birds and animals, where even the grumpy cockatiel who nobody wants to buy can make my girls giggle. There's sunshine, there's muddy puddles, there's the rainbow that always appears out through their bedroom window, and it's where their imagination can lead them to anywhere they want to go. So for them, I take that step and open the front door to let Outside in.
Maybe some day soon it won't feel like such a challenge. Whilst it does, though, it's also an achievement. Every time I open the door and step into Outside, I know I'm one step closer to beating this. This blog will document that journey. I'm under no illusions. It isn't going to be plain sailing, and some days it might feel as if the fear that consumes me is never going away. I won't hide that. On this blog I want to write about the good days and the bad days. If I can't be honest with myself, I won't be able to find that girl again - and I want to. More than anything else, I want my daughters to know the girl I used to be.
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