Sunday musings

As is usually the case on a Sunday when I've worked I have "big" thoughts on the walk home. Today wasn't an exception and since today they made more sense than usual (as in someone who isn't me could understand what I was wiffling on about) I thought I'd try and capture them.

I was thinking about the fact that in her blog my sister has pictures of a guy called Louis. Now Louis is the baby brother of a girl that I was at primary school with, Natasha. I can remember Louis as a little kid always wanting to tag along with our games, and now he's in the pub with my baby sister.

It made me think about the fact that I've never really had any cohesive friendships that go right theway through. I mean, Pami's been around for a long while as a very very good friend, but even that only really started happening in the fourth year of senior school (the school year you turn 15 for USA readers).

It made me think about the people I've known at different times and the reasons I no longer know them now. For some it's easy, I wasn't at school with Natasha and Louise and Christine any more. For others it's slightly more difficult, like Jessica it was because she'd gone from out all night drinker chick to homebody but seemed to resent the fact I was still doing the drinking thing. Then I know that after we stopped being friends and she split with Robin, she started working really hard at uni and got the grades she wanted while still going out and having fun sometimes.

With Paul and Jacqui I know it was mainly because I'd split up with Jon and moved out, but also I'd changed from being the girl in the bar every night and drinking as soon as I got up into someone who has work the next morning and who would quite like to stay in.

It made me realise just how much I've changed and that the life I'm living now isn't who I could have imagined myself a few years ago. At the time of Georges death I expected to hit rock bottom again, but thought I hadn't. With all the crap from the last year I expected it, but again though I hadn't. Then when I lost the baby the day before the wedding I did hit, but it wasn't what I expected.

Rock bottom had changed completely from the place where I lived during my last year of school. It wasn't the same place that I escaped from by drinking about a bottle of vodka a day. I looked around rock bottom that night and saw flowers growing in what had previously been a desert.

I had the knowledge that Phoenix loves me, that I was about to gain a whole new family that I love, that I had found people who truly care about me, not the things I'm doing or who I'm hanging out with, but me. This meant I went to sleep smiling, rather than going back to being the girl with the razor cuts on her arms and vodka in her bottle of Fanta.

Now I have my house with the two cats in the yard (well, Foleys in the hall yodelling at the door and Esmes under the bookcase, but you know what I mean), I have a man who adores me (most of the time, except when I pinch all the duvet) two families of people who are there to support me and friends that I won't give up without a fight. I have a job I love, and although I'll still be at work for Christmas I know that when I do get pregnant again I'll have all the love and support from my co-workers that I could possibly hope for.

Life is good, and even when it's bad I know that it can't beat me down.

I know I am strong.