I’m depressed about something right now that is simply too embarrassing to admit publicly, but just to give you an idea of how deeply this is affecting my psyche – I woke up suddenly the other night, an hour into my sleep, without rhyme or reason, and my first thought was, ‘I want my mum!’ This thought was followed closely by the cold, hard fact that my brain was quick to remind me: ‘Not possible. She’s dead!’ My reaction? A gasp; a sob; a shout into the darkness: ‘Why don’t I have a mother like everyone else?’
It was only by the grace of God that this period of wakefulness and sad realisation did not last long. I fell back asleep not long after. When I woke up in the morning, it took me a while to remember the incident, but when I did remember I felt totally, completely, utterly sorry for that crying girl at 2am. Do you know what it’s like to feel totally, completely, utterly sorry for yourself and knowing there is nothing you can do to change the truth?
On top of everything else, this is me, at 27 going on 28, nearly nine years after my mother died, still crying for her. This is my life.