The warm evening air surrounding me as I sat at the edge of the lake. My toes skimming the surface of the water. Inhaling the sweet summer air and waving my free afro is the subtle breeze. I could hear the vibrant buzz of others as they laughed and chattered in the distance. People having a good time. Sat in the beer gardens with their alcohol filled glasses.
I wore my soft pink gypsy dress and my cork heeled sandals sat beside me. I was free and happy. Taking an evening stroll with nowhere to be and no worries to spoil the moment.
They walked by, five of them, with a spring in their steps. Young spirits. I stood as they pasted and continued on the path beside the lake when he saw me. This guy. He knew me and I knew him yet we had never met. That spark you always hope to find, well I discovered it alright.
A second, a minute, a century past as I held my breath as he stood within my reach. The standing hairs on my arms, the goose bumps on my neck, tingles down my spine. Oh how I welcomed this sensstion. This sensation that was mine.
His soft sweet breath so close to my shoulder, he inhaled all of me. A drink he offered and of course I accepted. The freedom in my fingertips, the carelessness of my soul yet I felt so connected, so grounded, so found.
My dark handsome saviour, the answer to my pain. Lifted in that moment where I felt I truely belonged. Entwined in his fingertips, mesmerised by his lips. Perhaps my dying Romeo but suddenly it all made sense. I had never felt so warm inside. He saw me, all of me, and kept me by his side.
It seems as though the subject of mental health is finally being recognised more and more and spoken about in public. The taboo seems as though it has been lifted as members of the Royal family are getting on board and supporting charitable causes related to mental health. Prince Harry has spoken out about his emotional battle with coming to terms with the death of his mother Princess Diana.
In an interview that can be found on the Heads Together site, I watched the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge share their concern and the need for people to speak up about mental health and also the great benefits of communication which can be a crucial part in recovery. The more the subject is talked about the closer we all come to ending the stigma linked to it.
The Heads Together campaign will build on the great work being done by our partner charities so that prejudice and fear no longer stand in the way of people getting the help they need.
I think that this is brilliant if I say so myself. As someone who has battled with ill mental health for a large part of their life, I feel some comfort in knowing that one day I will not feel so ashamed that I have battled with severe depression. I want to be able to not feel so scared of people thinking that I am mentally unstable or labelling me as crazy even though they know nothing about my life and the difficulties I faced.
Professor Green amongst others have openly shared their experience dealing with mental health. Professor Green shared his story with the BBC (Suicide and Me) which documented his journey into understanding the facts about his fathers suicide. Prince William and Professor Green are doing a good job of raising awareness of men’s mental health which often goes unnoticed.
Whilst cleaning out my bedroom and trying to get rid of quite a large amount of documents that I had stored in a very large box on top of my wardrobe, I discovered a few things that I had forgotten about. Not all good things to be honest.
I guess you could say that it is uncommon for teenage girls to write in diaries, and yes I was one of them, and I carried on doing so long into my twenties. I suppose you could even call this a sort of diary entry. Along with note books, upon note books that I couldn’t bring my self to reading, instead opting to throw them straight into the bin bag, I stumbled across a piece of ‘Original Writing’. I am pretty sure that this was a writing task given to me when I was studying art and design at college. It is a bit random and has nothing to do with art but I think they were also making sure we pasted with a decent English Language grade too. Anyway, I briefly remember one of my teachers handing it back to me when I was alone once all the other students had left the class. She asked me if I was okay. Now rereading what I had written, I can see why. Who Are You? was a pretty sad bit of writing. It was pretty much me explaining how it feels to have no friends. No one. Gosh at 18 I guess I was really a lonely person. In all honesty, I don’t think that that much has changed.
Today I managed to get my children involved with the decluttering of their own toys. My two year old held open the charity bag and my six year old went through all his toys and books and picked out, to mu suprise, quite a lot of things that he was willing to give away to other boys and girls. He was really happy with he idea that his old unwanted toys would make ther children happy. It was a proud moment for me and I felt like I no longer had to sneak things into the bin or donate things while he is at school. Most of all I was proud thay he was able to make such a grown up decision and was able to let things go. My two year old, even though he probably didnt quite understand the concept, was also putting his toys into the bag and said he wanted to give it to ‘the other boy’.
For me I over came another hurdle and parted with some much loved baby clothes that I would have usually held on to for future pregnancies. However as we already have three gorgous boys, I feel that it is time to focus on my career and so I allowed myself to make another parent happy buy giving away the clothes. In doing such a simple act, it sparked joy for me. That was such a warm feeling.