I write to express my emotions, and in writing ‘Once a Year’ I was able to acknowledge all my weaknesses, behind a screen of fiction. So, when I was asked to go on the Radio and for newspaper interviews, my first thought was, oh god, what if they ask about me? I’m still afraid of someone saying, “can I ask you about your struggle with depression?” As soon as the word is spoken, I remember the sadness and feel something sinking inside.
Looking at my diary from a few months ago, I read:
‘I thought that it was over it, but I find myself here again. Without energy to do anything, and my smile being pretend.
The moments arrive daily, when I have to acknowledge my feelings, in the way that you have a meal or a shower. There will always be that moment when I admit, I am unhappy. Unhappy in the happiest of places, unhappy in the happiest of times.
I have hardly any expenses, I have a loving boyfriend and a wonderful family, a home and food on my table. I should feel so grateful and blessed. I don’t know how I got here, and I don’t know how to change it’.
When I was in that place, everything I was doing didn’t feel real, life felt like a play and I was centre stage. I almost felt like I was dreaming, how could I be with my favourite people, doing my favourite thing and still feel so empty?
I believe it started with a broken heart and feeling so lost as a young person. I had my whole life in front of me but didn’t know where to go, or what do to with it. I still don’t have the answers, but I invite you to talk to me, as a friend, to read my book and maybe you will relate to my story. I am enjoying writing and perhaps one day I will allow myself to flourish as an established author. If you have a question, please ask as I will reply.
Like a flower without water, like human without purpose. That flower will never blossom, even if it had the potential to be the most beautiful flower ever seen. Without its basic needs, it will be no better than its neighbouring weeds.
Sneak peek book 2:
Have you ever felt like you’re not really here? Like you can see everything going on around you, you can hear all of the muffled sounds, but it’s like there is a thick slate of glass between you and everything else. People try to get your attention, waving through your dazed eyes, they try to bounce sounds off your eardrums, but your brain is drowning it has no energy to show that you’re alive.
Behind that wall; you can’t feel what everyone else is feeling, you can’t breathe the air everyone else is breathing. Inside that cage it feels like the walls are closing in, building pressure, screaming in your ears. If you brake, the glass will shatter, it may even slice your skin, and then everyone will finally see the lost girl that’s deep within.
Well that was me, and the glass did shatter. I promised myself that I would try, try to feel again, to smile again, to light my spark and one day learn to love.