The first anniversary of Conor leaving this earthly plane has come and gone. And quite frankly, I don’t feel any different to the way I did beforehand.
I somehow used to thrive on very little sleep. When I could not sleep following childbirth I was almost too well and didn’t know there was anything wrong.
Ever since I was young, one of my ultimate dreams was to start a family. A spanner was thrown in the works upon diagnosis of my mental health problems.
Moving was difficult and committing, yet was necessary to live a better life. Still the tsunamis came, but my response could be executed more conveniently.
The positive in this case, I suppose, is that I am not going to stop telling my story. Until I see a change I am going to keep on fighting. And I will see a change.
The one thing I’ve taken from my experience so far is it’s okay to be scared and confused, to not always know your next steps (quite literally, in this case)