by Rose Gallagher
So I sit here surrounded by the memories of a girl who doesn’t exist. It was many moons ago or maybe not that long ago, that she was thriving on that which life had to offer. The endless possibilities, the notion of ‘what if’ taking every chance as it appeared.
Where would she go? What would she do? The ball lay in her court. She had the power to be anyone she wanted, she chose herself. Sky blue eyes and coffee brown hair, elaborately styled no doubt. Dressed to impress no matter the occasion with lipstick and handbag to match. Friends and family saw the potential she had within her and facilitated her opportunity to shine. Fully prepared or so she thought she boarded the rollercoaster we call life.
Boy meets girl. He shows her his world and the life that he leads, the other side of what she considered normality. What a novel idea to steer clear of the woes that brought her down. School was hard; college was harder she developed a new way of being. Bullet proof. A blind eye was turned from her loved ones though she was unaware. They want to stop me from living and be a carbon copy of them, she often thought.
Rebellion in its peak form can have long term consequences. The ideas and imagination flowed faster than the sea but the reality slammed down like an iron gate. Being more frivolous will get what she wanted and she knew there was no other way. Hidden from the world she grew life inside her, one she knew she would love for eternity. Amidst reality she continued to lead her own path leaving many behind she need them they got in the way of her happiness.
In came the comments, the lies, and the distrust. They had always been on the back burner. It appeared at this time more than ever before that this would be the life she would lead; bullied scared isolated, manipulated, alone. She chose herself, she chose her son. Reality hit hard as she clambered together the last shreds of herself, the broken glass was the final straw to get her out of this mess.
She wandered around the new house full of whispers and rumours scared for her life whilst protecting another. Respite came in the kitchen; she felt she could breathe knowing that nothing would work. The pounds dropped quickly along with her heart she was sorrowed and hungry and weak. Far from alone she found a friend who would always be by her side . The insults would come “don’t eat that you’re fat already” until the point she believed this was true.
Slowly but surely that friend now a fiend took away our poor English Rose. Feelings were numbers and love was a weight, she disappeared without a goodbye. Leaving behind the essence of her in the possessions she chose to keep.
A while down the road a new voice shone through, reminding her of how much more life has to offer. A process nonetheless to cope with the outside world, and be at peace with her mind. The recovery journey would be hard, this was normal, she chose to reclaim herself. Lessons were powerful to learn, and worth every mindful moment.
She has the love, she has the support, a foundation to build herself on. Now she knows, does our courageous Rose how much hope can carry her through. So I sit here surrounded by the memories of a girl who strives to live , not just exist. No matter what.