Perspective Is Freedom

Today, I would like to wish a HUGE Happy 21st Birthday to my adopted sister, by paying tribute to her here. I think you'll enjoy this little story.    I met Hannah in church when we were younger, we both attended with our families, and never really spoke a word to each other. We would sit at opposite sides of the hall and glance every now and then, but always too reserved to say anything (apart from one time when she commented that she had the same watch as me. Little did we know that this small observation would be so significant a representation of what our friendship would become). Our family life even resembled one another, we were both the eldest of younger siblings of the same age gap, our mums of the same character, and diversely, our dads also of the same character. We were both the 'good' little Christian example-worthy girls who did well at school, played music (no doubt thanks to musical parents), etc., etc.    Being plebs on 'downtime' i

We rejoiced as we mourned: this happiness hurts, Planets apart, but entwined in our thirst. I held and believed our promises, truly, But look where we got ourselves stranded. Swinging so slowly, from fire to furnace - You love me so dearly, so why must we do this? Whilst I fuelled the flame in those deep hungry eyes, You broke me and fated us both to demise. I want you, I need you, you tear me apart. How can you leave me bleeding? Swinging so slowly, from fire to furnace - I love you so dearly, please don't let us do this. Hope haunts Regret; they will taunt for an age, For I was surviving, though cold and afraid. Yet you consumed me and as warmth engulfed, I choked on those sweet precious words; So sweet, so pure, so sure... Does it hurt you like it hurts me to be wrapped up in your arms? The darkness of dying overshadows the way I feel safe. Yes we gave up, we fought, we gave up, we fell And now the bones lay lifeless, the

*Please keep in mind that what you're about to read is full of honest (and maybe thought-provoking) words, and I'm hesitant to even hit the 'publish' button. So cut me a little slack if anything comes across the wrong way, and also feel free to share your thoughts in the comments box below. I'd be very grateful :) Most of all, thanks for taking the time to read, I won't blame you if you stop halfway through haha!* There comes that moment, when you hit the biggest tallest thickest brick wall, where you tell yourself 'I can't do this. I can't get through this, what's the point' so you let the mental sickness turn into physical nausea that takes over your body. The weak knees, the plummeting heart, the headache, the crying, the constant heavy sighing, lashing out at loved ones - it all pushes you further and further into your fears and anxiety and you just want to curl up in a ball under your duvet. And 9 times out of 10, you do. Your room,

It's Mothering Sunday, March 30th 2014. I'm sat in a room with four mothers, the eldest of whom is one of the greatest mother figures I've ever personally known. She's 94.5 years of age, and beside her sits her daughter, and beside that daughter sits that daughter's daughter, and beside that daughter sits that daughter's daughter, and on that daughter's lap sits that daughter's 4 month old daughter, cooing and clutching at her Great Great Grandmother's arm. Yep, I'm describing to you 5 living generations of one family. My own family. My niece, my sister, my mum, my Nanna, & my great Nana sat up in her bed, the metaphorical throne of this wonderful little family tree. What a poignant and heart-warming moment. I wanted to freeze time for a good long while, and just sit and watch them hold each other's hands, share stories and laughter, and sadly, but not regretfully, tears. It was sorta surreal. And so I did - I took this. 5 hands