Mental health and why it matters – In the name of Thiago – Day 241
The thing with writing a daily blog is that there really is no hiding place. Nor do I want there to be one. I hope that’s why a lot of you have stayed with me on this journey recognising perhaps some familiar failings and feelings and everything else in between. We are human, I am human. There’s nothing amazing about me, I’m just trying to muddle through as best I can, while carrying the horrendous burden of grief with me every single fucking day.
Why the reflection? A week tomorrow is World Suicide Awareness Day and it looks like I’ll be doing some communications work around it. Just to be clear, I’m not doing this because I’ve been in that place where it’s ever been a consideration but certainly the fragility of my own mental health since last year, has meant that I understand much better now why it ought to be at the forefront of all our minds.
Ah yes, there he is the little beauty. This is my favourite photo. Sometimes I think maybe it’s an odd choice because the viewer can’t immediately see all of Thiago and the full extent of his incredible handsomeness but on the plus side it cuts off a decent chunk of me! I love the photo because it’s obvious from it just how much love I had and still have for this remarkable little fella, who changed my life forever. The photo makes me proud and acts as a dagger to the heart at the same time. Only grief can do that to you I suspect.
In a team of twelve in my work place it probably comes as no surprise that I come in fairly handy as both an ambassador and communicator of all things mental health. Just as I do in this blog, I try to draw on my considerable experience to show that, as Morrissey once sang: there truly is a light that never goes out.
Normality, or at least the Covid version of it, is starting to return. Elisa starts her first day at high school tomorrow, her ice-skating lessons again on Thursday and her ballet and freestyle dance classes on Saturday. All of us rely on a degree of routine in our lives, and of course Covid has pretty much knackered up much of that.
I’ve already fucked up part of Elisa’s routine by buying the wrong bloody ice skates. Right model, right size, wrong bleeding colour. Only boys wear black. “What if you’re in a dark mood” I said to Elisa. “Only boys wear black” her ladyship replied.
Well I’ve had enough dark moods of late, so I’m going to sign off on a brighter note by letting you know that the fundraiser has been boosted by another £100 in donations today somewhat out of the blue. I’m just £1,330 away from my £10,000 target now and that makes me feel happy. Thank you for helping me everyone. It means an awful lot to me.