It's been an interesting day. My 8 year old daughter came home from school and announced that hers had been 'not the best'. Her neighbour on the art table had smudged her meticulously wrought painting, the teacher had failed to praise her efforts (a little unfair in the circumstances I thought) while lavishing it upon her arch rival. Having had a dear friend of mine unwittingly piss on my parade earlier in my own day I was at least able to dispense some heartfelt motherly advice along the lines of 'there will always be someone else who is better than you at something, however good you think you are, and there will always be people who are far less talented who somehow walk away with all the praise and recognition'. That said, it is a lesson in life that I still struggle with at 43 years of age.
Today, at least, I can celebrate the fact that I've come to the end of a long and difficult journey.
I've finally crawled out of a long dark tunnel in the middle of which I could truly see no light. It's a horrible place to be, as anyone who's ever been there (and there are many) will know. You live with yourself for so many years, then wake up one day and realise you are completely lost. The person you once were has wandered off into the sunset leaving just a broken shell behind. You ask yourself 'where did I go', 'how did this happen'? And the scariest thing is that you are just an ordinary person. No celebrity-tabloid hell for me. Just life.