I woke up this morning not unlike any other day. But the realisation of today’s date hit me.
15 years ago. I woke up in the middle of my summer holidays after finishing my GCSEs and ecperienced the worst day of my life. One that has shaped my personality, character, values and self ever since. That was the day i lost my dad. 15 years old. 5 days before my 16th birthday.
The 13th of August has plagued me ever since. Like a grim reminder of life’s cruel twists. For me, this event has no doubt been the trigger for the crippling depression i have battled for half of my life. From the dizzy highs to rock bottom. There is a cause.
But in recent years, i found myself infinitely more reflect about the hand life has dealt me so far.
So this morning. I took a long hard look in the mirror and refused to allow this date to ruin my day and weekend. I stood. Quietly taking stock of what was looking back at me. Sure the greys are coming through thicker by the week. And I’m not in the best of shape. But all of those external things i am very aware of.
It’s time that shown me my internal struggles. Through several, and i mean several, therapists, i am now at a much reflective point in my life that allows me to look in the mirror and not hate myself. And not cry. And not despair.
Yes. I would took give a limb to have my dad back by my side. But i am quickly turning into him. And I’m ok with that. His influence on the person (some would say man but i still feel like a kid) i have become. I utilise humour. All the time. I love food and cooking. I love my family, and being a good dad is key to me. The list could go on but my hand is getting tired.
So, where do we go from here? I would usually raise a glass to my dad, but I’m taking a break from alcohol. So I’m going to put on some old punk, and look in the mirror. Grateful for those who have made me who i am.