A meme from Careyannie’s Mumma Said

Family

Aunty Mim is 9 years older than me. She lent me her Jackie and gave me the non-David Cassidy posters to put up on my wall. She told me that the henna she put on her hair was cow poo and for years I believed her. I followed her diet fads with fascination (someone could choose what to eat!) and her life outside 9-5 conformity with awe.

Aunty Mim has, since I have been aware of her presence in my life, become a mother and a granny. Both roles she fulfils with a gusto I can only marvel at. She is also a mother-figure to me as well as being a big sister and an aunt – she is so much more than the sum of those parts. Aunty Mim is outspoken, opinionated and feisty and has a heart as big as a hippo. Sometimes we fall out – she doesn’t mince her words, and I retreat quickly when confronted with disapproval and possible rejection – but we make up and are the stronger for it. We even had a heated discussion last week – and parted company closer than before.

Aunty Mim keeps my feet on the ground and lets me have my head in the clouds. She is nobody’s yes-girl, but she rarely utters the word “no”.

I wish the world could have the pleasure of knowing my Aunty Mim.

Friends

I am very lucky to have some fabulous friends. Not very many of them live on my doorstep, and those that do I try not to bother. This can look as though I am not particularly friendly… as much as I am always the one there to lend a shoulder, a hanky, a cup of tea or a gallon of wine:I can rarely be the one to accept the same. So I battle on for the most part behind closed doors, coming out only when the going is good. But to Tom, Fred, Russ, Hilary, Rachel, Annie, Jez, Angela, Wendy, Mona, Jacqui, Emily, Andy, Dawn, Pam, Penny and Joanne – I am profoundly grateful for the fact that I could, if I could, knock on any of your doors and be welcomed in.

The White Coats

The last 4 years have been difficult. I am not quite sure why many of the people I have met in white coats choose to pursue their profession in the mental health field. It doesn’t seem to have been through empathy of either patients or disability. Some are, quite frankly, insulting. However, I do have two bright shining stars: my Community Psychiatric Nurse “K” and my GP, Dr W. Both not only accept that my IQ has not nosedived to double figures with the diagnosis of a disorder, but seem to appreciate the fact that they have an intelligent and articulate patient – and that they too might have something to learn. I respect and applaud them.