How has another year passed already? It's J's third and final big night out as part of this school, and he was that excited about getting there that he wasn't too impressed with his paparazzi. Can you blame him? Who would want to wait any longer for good food and music?! I'm glad to see that I'm still getting big hugs 6 years in - he hasn't got sick of me just yet. The paparazzi will just have to stick around a little bit longer!
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'Dogs have a way of finding the people who need them, filling an emptiness we don't even know we have.' - Thom Jones
When we chose to bring home a puppy I didn't expect to have a friend and teacher thrown in there too.
Tweed hats, my Favourite, a Jeep Renegade, early morning walks, tiny cobbled streets, the Yorkshire Moors, fish & chips with scraps, -11°C real feel, a cosy house, wooden piers, family time, fire alarms, teaching a 'Norn Iron' woman how to pronounce a Greek name, the 199 steps, apple bonbons, a 'black-is-the-new-red' coat, seagulls, Heartbeat country, seeing how fudge is made, a Christmas wonderland in February and more importantly...more fish & chips. I've had worse half terms!
*My Favourite has a great eye for a photograph - all credit to him!* HE was there. He made me stronger than I ever imagined. I didn't give up.
GOD got hold of the situation. PTSD and depression...consider your butt kicked! It's that time of year again when kiddies want to say 'thank you' to their very special teachers, and what better way to do it than with some forever flowers.
This is just a small selection of the many pots that went out this year. Maybe you will be lucky enough to receive some! God told them, “I’ve never quit loving you and never will.
Expect love, love, and more love!" Jeremiah 31:3 It's hard to believe it has been a year since J's first big night out.
But of course, he never fails to impress. He's back with a bang and is dressed to impress...check out that custom made waistcoat and dickie bow! I'm getting that proud big sis feeling all over again, but this time the family has grown... he didn't just have me swooning over him, but three more of his 'big sisters'! (We missed you, Sarah!) What a 'Great Cub' we have. Fancy getting your hands on a handmade Japanese stab bound book, or want to see more like this? Check out what I have been working on here: https://www.etsy.com/uk/shop/DesignSLR?section_id=18776591 Frames and other paper crafts can be purchased here:
https://www.etsy.com/uk/shop/DesignSLR?section_id=18733963 Free next weekend and want to pick up some quirky gifts while giving the kids something fun to do?
Noah's Ark Playgroup are hosting a craft fair and coffee morning in aid of the playgroup and the NI Childrens Hospice. I've been working on some exciting pieces... why not come visit us and see what's to offer? There'll be plenty of fun things for the kids too... face painting, balloons and a bouncy castle! Saturday 19th March 2016 in the COI Halls on the Mill Hill (Waringstown) from 10am-2pm. "You got married! Congratulations! How was your honeymoon?” My heart is racing, my palms are sweaty and my mind is trying to figure out a million and one things. I try my best to put on a brave face. I must be doing a good job so far… it’s 8 months later and no one seems to have noticed. “Oh it was great, thanks. So lovely to get away and enjoy some sunshine for a change!” Please don’t ask about it. Sara, just keep smiling and change the conversation. “I’m definitely missing the heat now. How have you been? I see wee Bobby turned 3 last week. Where has the time gone?” That’s it. General chit chat. That’s all people want. But she’s looking at my legs. She knows. “Oh, I heard you had an accident in America. That was some honeymoon! What happened?” And there it is. The question, and the suffocation. When Aaron and I got married last October, it was the happiest time of our lives. We were 23 years old, had the wedding day of our dreams, and were about to set off for our honeymoon in Florida – 2 whole weeks of bliss. We spent our days at the theme parks, the water park, shopping and by the pool, eating out (who ever thought I was picky?!), taking lovely long walks and eating our weight in cookies. Never did we imagine that our trip would change our lives in such a way. A few days before we were due to fly home, only 13 days after becoming a wife and after a little shopping trip, we had the accident. We were sitting at the bus stop, waiting to catch the I-Ride back to our hotel. It was a hot day, so we sat on the bench attempting to hide from the heat and talking about where we would go for dinner that night. We were still close enough to McDonald’s to be able to use the Wi-Fi, so I thought I’d send a quick reply to a message my sister had sent me. All consumed in our phones, I didn’t hear anything unusual, and I didn’t see anything further than the phone resting in my hands between my knees. I just knew I was way too warm. Then everything went black.. I couldn't see, but my ears were filled with the sound of screams. When the darkness lifted and my vision returned, the only thing I saw was Aaron lying on the ground with such pain on his face. When I looked down I was on the floor on my hands and knees, my dress straps torn off, with excruciating pain in my leg. The screams were ours. My body went into shock. I couldn't think, I couldn't speak. I couldn’t even cry. It was only when I felt two hands under my arms that I realised we weren’t alone, and it was only when I was lifted up onto the grass bank that I realised what had happened. We had been hit by a car, which was now mounted on the bench we once sat on, fluid leaking from below. My first trip in an ambulance was that day. Aaron and I were separated, both being rushed away. Even though I was alone and we were both in pain, I felt as ok as I could. It was a 20 minute drive to the trauma hospital, but it was made so much easier by the great paramedic who was caring for me. He talked to me for the whole journey while he checked me over, joking and laughing as we went. When he found out I did autism support, he showed me pictures on his phone of his autistic son, and the cute message he had left him made up of alphabet fridge magnets that morning. He told me of all of his travels, and where he hoped to visit in future. Of course ‘Ireland’ was on his list. He also told me off for moving my neck in the neck brace while talking to him, but I’ll forgive him for that. I didn't even have time to think about what had just happened, and despite the pain and not being with Aaron, I felt normal. At hospital, I was brought to the emergency room, and that’s where I found Aaron again. I was told off multiple times for getting off my bed, but there was nothing that would have stopped me from being at his side. As it was a trauma hospital, they only checked for broken bones. With the lump on my leg appearing directly after contact with the car and being so dramatic in size, doctors thought that I had broken my femur, but after having X-rays taken from my hip to my toes, I was thankful to find out my bones were fine. I was given antibiotic cream for my cuts, then discharged, despite barely being able to walk or even sit down with the pain. It was only when we returned home that I was told I had extensive muscle and tissue damage and severe internal bleeding. After hours of trying to get our heads around what had happened and praying, we were told that Aaron had broken his tibia and fibula. And more heartbreakingly, that he would never play rugby again. For those of you who know Aaron, you will understand how difficult that was for him. He had his leg put back into place while under anaesthetic, then strapped up for the night to await surgery. Unfortunately the placement of his bones still wasn't right and needed reset again - this time with no anaesthetic or pain relief. While he gripped my hand, four rather large men pushed and pulled at his broken leg while watching his bones move like a snake on the Xray screen. As you can imagine, Aaron was in absolute agony, and it was incredibly hard for me to watch. He was then moved to his own private room in the middle of the night, and had surgery the following morning. He now sports a metal rod and 4 pins in his leg. When Aaron came round from the surgery, I was ready and waiting for him. I didn’t want him to see me cry, so I did my best to suck it all up and smile - I'm not sure how successful I was though. He simply said “God is good all the time. All the time God is good.” And how right he was. While he was in surgery, I took a taxi back to our hotel to gather up some essentials for us both. It was then, at 7am Florida time that I was able to contact home and let our families know what had happened and let them know that we were okay, all considering. Despite not wanting everyone to know back home, our news had been brought up in a prayer meeting (thanks Dad!), which then reached the ears of one of our good friends who had relatives holidaying there at the time. After a few Facebook messages back and forth between Lurgan and Florida, it was decided that we were to have visitors at the hospital the next day, and that we would be brought to the airport. It seems strange to say it, but hearing a Northern Irish accent in the corridor that day was the most pleasing sound to my ears. Despite being complete strangers, we were greeted by two of the most welcoming, caring people. It was such a comfort to have someone there for us just when we needed it. After 3 nights in hospital, intensive physiotherapy which started only hours after Aaron’s surgery, and being bandaged and booted, we were on our way back to Northern Ireland. Being upgraded to business class made the journey a lot more comfortable, but that’s a story for another day! When we got home, we heard a lot of variation in the story of what people had heard had happened. Of course, the further the story spread, the more it changed, but I guess that’s the problem with gossip. Some peoples’ versions were hilarious, and some downright ridiculous, and then there were the people who felt they knew the (incorrect) story better than we did, because “well... that isn’t what such and such told me!” For all of those who came and asked about the accident and got a simple ‘hit by a car’ answer from me, I hope I just answered all of your questions. I also hope that you understand that I wasn’t trying to be rude by brushing you off. I couldn’t have told you, even if I wanted to. I understand that people ask about incidents out of curiosity, and out of caring for us. I also get that sometimes people are just nosey. But being completely honest, if my legs would have carried me, I would have ran away from every single one of you as soon as you approached me with that look in your eye. Have you ever felt that you want a ‘do not disturb’ sign taped to your chest that you could just point at when you’re approached by anyone? That’s how I have spent the past year. Then there was the aftermath...Months passed after the accident, and our physical injuries started to heal. Of course, the more we were able to get out, the more people we met, and the more we heard the dreaded question. While still hurting, Aaron publicly dealt with the situation in a matter-of-fact way, as most men would. You know, the whole look-at-my-cool-scars mentality. I wish I was able to do it too! Instead, I found that I was withdrawing myself from social situations. When we were out, I would move myself out of the conversation or try to cut it short. I didn’t want to hurt Aaron, but hearing the story over and over again made me feel sick to my stomach, and I began to resent the fact that he was so 'proud'. I just couldn't understand why it was so easy for him to talk about it all as if it was someone else's story, when all I wanted to do was cry. I thought I was getting better - getting over it. But over time my feelings got worse. I had nightmares most nights which was affecting my ability to sleep, and I had flashbacks brought on by stupid things… the smell of sun cream, the taste of a Domino’s pizza, the sound of a heart monitor on TV. When I closed my eyes all I could hear was Aaron’s screams. When I went to physio, the pain in my leg was intensified, which brought back memories of a different kind. When I had to talk to people I was shaky and nervous. When I was walking along a roadside, I was on high alert, and I had some totally irrational thoughts about what would happen to me. I found that I had developed new fears, and the fears I had before the accident were heightened to extreme levels. It got to the stage that I didn’t want to go out, I didn’t want to have friends over, and I didn’t want to talk. I was spending more time upset, and every time Aaron asked how he could help me all I could say was “I don’t know what is wrong with me.” Some days I felt as though my head was going to explode with memories I wanted to forget and that the tears would never stop. Other days I felt so much that I couldn't function or feel anything at all - I was numb. Empty. But no matter what I was feeling, I always felt alone, despite going through it all with Aaron. All of the emotion got the better of me and made me shut down. Rather than talking to my family, I tried to struggle through it on my own. I didn't want to worry anyone and thought I was being stupid, and that they would think the same. I now realise that that thought in itself was ridiculous! The more time went on, the more I realised that Aaron's way of dealing with it all was more normal than my erratic emotions that were controlling me daily. After one particular breakdown, locking myself in the bathroom, I was encouraged to go to the doctors. At that stage I was angry with everyone, including God. I had started to let myself grow distant from Him, and despite many reminders from Him that He hadn’t forgotten about me, I continued to leave church each week with nothing but a heavy heart. I figured I had nothing to lose. It was in June, leg still swollen as a constant reminder of what happened, that I was told I had depression and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). After finally admitting that I wasn’t ok, and that something was wrong, I felt a sense of freedom. Why hadn't I admitted it already? I didn't even tell my family about how I was feeling until after that appointment, so it came as a bit of a shock to some of them. I stupidly tried to ignore it, hoping it would go away. But why hadn’t I went for prayer already? I had no reason to doubt that God was good all the time, and prayer ministry is offered on a regular basis in our church. From then I had decided in my mind that I would not give in to this, and that I would not let it beat me. I was going to be pro-active in helping myself. Everyone already told me so, but I had finally realised for myself that it was ok to ask for help when I needed it, and it was ok to cry if that's what I had to do. While being referred to the mental health team, a counsellor was recommended to me. The last person I wanted to explain it all to was a stranger, but I knew I had to in order to help myself. It took me weeks to finally pick up the courage to actually make an appointment, and as I always do, I thought of every excuse to get out of it. Thankfully, it was only a few days later, so I didn’t have time to back out. It is through the support of my family and counselling that I am able to write this post instead of breaking down at the thought of talking about it. While I have been taught many different techniques on how to handle myself and my emotions, I was encouraged to explore my creative side. With my art background, I’m not sure why it didn’t don on me sooner. But off I went, and despite being heavily slagged for it, I bought myself an adult colouring book - art therapy at its finest. Honestly, colouring in alongside my seven year old niece is the best thing in the world. It is a distraction, and a very calming one. But what helped me more is the time I spent on the computer designing. While it is a distraction, it made me think. A lot. At the beginning, I couldn’t have spent even 5 minutes at the computer without crying my eyes out. But the more I do, the easier and more natural it is becoming. You may have seen some of the images pop up over the past while, but since it’s the first time I’m sharing all of this nonsense, I thought I would add them to this post. It was initially written as a way to rant, and to give myself time to process it all, but it appears that it has been more ground-breaking for me than anticipated. At my last session, my therapist told me that I shouldn’t talk about it at all until I can without feeling overwhelmed, and that I shouldn’t cause myself trauma all over again. Why would you want to remember something terrible the one time, never mind every day? But it seems that today is the day that I can start to be more honest. I am not better yet, but I’m heading on the right road to get there. A year has passed and I still feel it all as if it was yesterday. I still have pain with my swelling, I still have nightmares, I still have flashbacks and I still have tears. I still struggle, I still have irrational thoughts, I’m still on high alert when out walking, and sometimes I still find that I can’t express how I feel. Devastatingly, I have had to step down from a role I loved, and I have also realised that my dream job will be just that - a dream. But I also know that I am lucky to be where I am today, and I am blessed. I still have my husband, a working body, my family and my God. It can only get better from here! “God is good all the time. All the time God is good.” PS – sorry to all of those who I may have offended or hurt with a blunt attitude in the past number of months. I hope you can understand that I wasn’t in a good place, and that I meant no harm. Also please understand and respect that I am still under construction, and putting my feelings into words won’t take away the pain and the memories. I may still have days when I just have to say “I can’t talk about it today.” A stressful drive, an arty looking hotel, an electric shock, Lifehouse, Dublin Castle, burgers, a lovely library, Dublinia, a tower with too many steps, playing Medieval dress-up, St Stephen's Green, Howth and a visit from a seal... And some from Aaron's action cam... |
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