There have been times in my life where I have not done a lot. Arguably I still don’t some of the time. Some of it is due to being unable to work because of pain levels, and the effects of the medication I have to take to manage it. Some of it is down to poor mental health as a result of both spicy brain chemistry, and what I now know to be cPTSD. Some of it is just life being life.

What I do know is that these days, a glance of my calendar tells me how much I’ve got on that week. From meeting up with my daughter weekly, to visiting friends and family for overnights or weekends, to doing a little work from home, to curry nights and my regular weekly get-togethers, to ferrying my daughter and her friend to and from things that public transport doesn’t allow for (she’s off to a local festival this weekend)… the point being that these days I’m busy. Sometimes I double-book myself because my organisation skills leave a lot to be desired (if it’s not in the calendar, it’s not happening. EVERYTHING goes in there because if it doesn’t, I forget it exists).

The thing about this calendar is that I can see into the past, from years ago, and see how little I had going on. I now know I was in survival mode, and it was easier to survive if I slept as much as possible and didn’t leave the house. My mother regularly told me throughout this time to “Get a life”, without any consideration for how rude it was to routinely be told that you were invalid and unworthy because you weren’t able to socialise or do things beyond merely existing. I look back on this time with sadness and a little anger. Up until I broke contact off with her last year, she was also saying the same thing about my sister (who is one of the kindest, most intelligent, resourceful and wise people I’ve ever met, who has a lively and active social life, and is happy and settled with who she is. She has a life; a healthy, busy and fulfilling one). The point I’m trying to make is that if you didn’t do things the way Mum thought you should be, you were in some way inferior. That was a message I’ve carried my entire life.

So, back to being busy. These days my mental health is a lot more robust, so naturally I’m more inclined to do more, see more, be more present in my life. It didn’t happen overnight, it was a climb to get to a ‘healthy’ status, and I did it despite Mum’s unhealthy influence, not because of it. I guess there are times we all say things we think will help but don’t, but to be repeatedly told that you are doing it the wrong way when it’s the only way you know how to is a very dangerous and toxic space to be in.

I’m relieved that I’ve started to heal now, away from her influence, and every time I look at my calendar and feel a little overwhelmed with what I’ve got on – especially compared to say, 5 years ago – I have to remind myself to counter that by telling myself how well I’m doing to be busy these days. To be feeling more healthy, and to enjoy spending time with good friends, having happy and engaging times.

To have a life, if you will.