Love is Everywhere

I’m very open and honest when it comes to my own mental health, however I am quite guarded when it comes to my relationships.

How can you distance yourself from something that hurts you the most, when love is everywhere you look.

There is no big secret for my desire to become more than one.

However, that is just how my life has unfolded.

Not through choice, not even bad luck.

It has just happened and played out that way.

There are sayings I absolutely hate and despise such as, ‘they weren’t the right one’, I find that saying extremely patronising.

Those that say it, say it with heartfelt tenancies trying to protect and encourage you, but patronising it definitely is all the same.

Another saying is ‘it’s alright for you’.

I hate that one even more than “it’s okay not to be okay”, bullshit!

From my then unknown experiences with depression to now I was always told how it was alright for me, something I hear on a weekly basis for all manner of subjects whereby those who say it think my life is easier than theirs.

My life isn’t easy, it never has been.

Throughout all of my writings I’ve found courage to write about my emotions, including suicide and although this isn’t anything as bad as that, this one is extremely raw.

Raw and something I thought I wouldn’t need to address.

A few weeks ago I woke up and without a second thought just upped and left and spent a few days in Edinburgh, it did me the world of good.

Showing myself that despite any anxieties that I have, I’m just as capable to put them to one side and say ‘fuck it’ and do it anyway.

I was asked prior to going and coming home who I was with and when I replied I was by myself, the replies which came sincerely as bravery resulted in my own mind of alone.

If I didn’t go alone, I wouldn’t ever go anywhere.

Holidays abroad, weekends away, day trips or restaurant meals for one.

I always fear that I’ll spend my life on my own, but the reality is my darkness will always sit by my side as company ready to pull me down into the depths of dispair.

I shared a quote in the last few days that really resonated with me, regarding how ‘depression in part, is grief for your own life not turning out as it should have done’.

My life was never supposed to be like this.

Granted I have achieved, more than I ever could wish to achieve personally.

I have a good relationship with myself in the main, that I realise who I am, in my heart, my soul and within my troubled mind.

But still my life was never meant to be like this.

Rewind back to the days of your teenage lives whereby your weekends were fun and nothing more.

Focusing towards your future and what may come, your career, your friendships, your goals.

Finding someone to settle down with and starting a family, but it didn’t come.

Not until a few years ago, I met someone online initially, she was older than I was by 6 years.

She was a beautiful girl and instantly I was attracted to her, immediately wanting to get to know her, hoping she could see something in my profile and my words to allow us to strike up a conversation.

She did and I was hooked, speaking daily, building up a strengthing relationship.

She was guarded at times, divorced, no children, never wanted to re-marry and definitely didn’t want children.

Despite my desire to one day become a father it was more of a bonus than a necessity.

I wanted to find someone who I could fall in love with and be loved back.

And she did, maybe it wasn’t part of her plan to connect to someone like me, as through our conversations she warmed to the possibility of marriage and told me of dreams she had of us having a daughter.

In the year that I had met her I had aspirations of going to Australia for Christmas and New Year, it was something I had been planning before I even met her.

We spoke openly about it, despite what would have been our first Christmas as a couple, she knew how much I wanted to go and encouraged me to go when I was ready to shelve it.

Australia particularly Melbourne holds a special place for me now, but when I returned, the girl wasn’t.

I won’t mention her name, because for a long, long time I couldn’t bear to hear it.

For 11 years, I’ve never heard from her again, no silenced calls or knocks on the door.

She took her chance to walk away, for whatever reason(s) they were, I got no closure, none at all.

Maybe it was never supposed to happen like this, maybe she was married, maybe she met someone else, maybe she just needed to walk away.

It ripped my heart out, so much so, it would play it’s part in my deteriorating health and eventual suicide episode at the end of that year.

It’s alright for you though they always say.

It’s never been alright for me.

I don’t want sympathy, I don’t want to ever talk about it either, just some understanding.

My life is far from crystal clear to base your personal judgements on.

The 27th December marks 10 years since I came too close to taking my own life, the date is constantly on my mind this year, more so in the last few weeks.

How can you distance yourself from something that hurts you the most, when love is everywhere you look.

It’s hard, there’s no denying it.

Just one day at a time.