"I get knocked down, but I get up again"

I’m off mood stablisers and this is my 3rd week of withdrawing from them. It has been HELL. I’m not even kidding.

So now that no medication is ‘stabilising’ me, I’m crying at the drop of a hat. Everything makes me cry. Toast that dropped on the floor – butter side up – I stared at with tears running down my face. It felt like the worst thing ever. The re-heated hot chocolate in the microwave had bubbled over the mug and made a chocolate puddle on the hot plate…so I cried. Alun’s shirt smells like a combination of laundy powder – and him – like a Welsh mountain stream – so when I held it to my nose and breathed him in…I cried. I cried putting clothes into the dryer and unloading the dishwasher. I cried making the bed. When it was made, I sat on the bed and just wept. For ages. I cry at every kind facebook message from my friends. I cried seeing a chocolate stain on the sleeve of my grey jumper. I cried because one of my socks had turned itself around on my foot during the day so that the sticky pads were on the top of my foot and not the bottom.

I don’t know how long this is going to last. Hopefully not too much longer.

Disney recommended one of the newest Pixar movies “Turning Red” to me and knowing I would be in for a lot of fun and some amazing ‘child-like’ magic and wonder, I clicked on play.

So GOOD.

Such an amazing movie about hitting puberty, wanting your parent’s approval, the relationships between Daughters and Mom’s…and what really got me – was the amazing strength the main character “Mei” gains from having faithful, loving, accepting friends.

I couldn’t get acceptance or approval from my FAMILY so I started even from a young age, to look outwards. To my friends.

That’s where I’ve never been let down. God has granted me the most excellent of people to be my friends. I am so grateful, Father God. When I think of all my lowest moments – my friends were the ones around me, holding me close, crying with me, listening to me rant for hours on end, supporting me and encouraging me to not give up. When I think about my happiest moments – there they are again – my friends. I see their faces as they cheer me on about my first book this year. Their encouragement whenever I start a new job (which is pretty often), their praise whenever I feel I did something well and their excitement when I try something new. My friends are at every milestone in my life; every birthday their cards and gifts come pouring in, every Christmas the same, throughout the year I get thoughtful ‘just because’ gifts, flowers and letters. My friends…are the salt of the earth.

Friends…they are what makes the world worth living in, really.

In my life, I can’t trust my family structure. My parents can throw me out on the street without a moment’s hesitation or worry – but can also be the ones flying me home from states away because I need refuge. My Dad can build me up so I think I can run the world, or can tear strips off me and make me literally feel like dying to escape his anger and harsh disappointment. My Mom once punched me through a shower curtain…but once also held my hand on a bus trip to the Doctors when I was in a very bad way indeed. My parents can either be my biggest fans or my worst foes. They can change from cheerleaders to enemies in one meal sitting – one morning. One glance the wrong way. One word not carefully thought of before it leaves my mouth – and boom. Off the bomb of hurt goes. I never know what I’m going to get around my family, so my guard has to be up at all times.

The only consistency I’ve had in my life is with and because of my friends. They are the ones with a bed for me when I’m homeless with nowhere to go at the end of a long day. My friends are the ones who take me in when I have nothing to give. When Matt broke up with me at 14 years old…I truly felt like my world had fallen apart. I think we feel things more at such a young age, don’t you? I remember telling my friends in the bathroom at Cindy’s house that “Matt dropped me” and I burst into tears. I don’t know why, but I still had my bike helmet on. My friends didn’t care. Cindy, Sheridan and Marita threw their arms around me and cried with me over my first ever broken heart.

18 years later (yeah, you read that right – EIGHTEEN) and I was crying over the same guy with a new set of friends. Matt had taken my virginity (I had freely given it) but when I had fallen more in love with him over that fateful weekend…he had withdrawn from me. I knew when I boarded the plane back to Perth that day that Matt probably wouldn’t bother thinking of me again – whereas I’d given him my heart…and he’d made me a woman. I cried seeing Sonya, Jess, Caris and Gracie (they all came to the Airport to come get me) at the Arrivals gate. Knowing I could tell them about my weekend and be safe to be vulnerable with a group of girls who loved me, it meant the world.

My friends are my rock, my safe place to land, my sounding board for all my crazy ideas, my sources of wisdom whenever I need advice and bring so much fun, laughter and love into my life. All the time.

I am so blessed, Father God. Thank you for all my mates.