Author: carolannwright

This week’s blog is partly personal but mostly about my Journey with Prostate Cancer, the reason my blog began. All is relevant to where I find myself today.

As I said last week, David’s prognosis is so far very good. It allows us to look forward. To plan and be happy, something that has been missing for a while now. Being happy I mean. I don’t mean we were moping around but the curse that is cancer with a little ‘c’ was always there. I know we have the all clear but will be waiting for the year anniversary PSA just to make sure. During the last few years, ‘family’ stuff aside, I didn’t dare to wonder what it would be like, on the other side. When we had journeyed through this horror and arrived safe at the end of it. I wouldn’t let myself go there. But after seeing the consultant 2 weeks ago, I did. Briefly but I dared to go there. I have been ecstatic, deliriously happy as I said last time, but also in the depths of despair. David has recovered so well. And as far as his consultant is concerned the dreaded cancer has gone. In the past! Banished! So I have every reason to be happy and we both are really. But I wake up, expecting the blackness to descend on my calm, expecting that sudden rush of panic that I have had every day since his diagnosis. It’s an odd feeling. Almost like I am missing something. That something is not quite right. That’s when it hits me, there is something missing. Something that has accompanied me for the past 2 years and for many years in my early life. The ‘F’ word. The fear is not there anymore. This is a ‘miss’ I am grateful to have and will try to enjoy.

Many readers have messaged me in the past weeks, months, re my blog and wished us both well. Some of the ladies in the groups, say they have gained comfort from my words and for that I am humbled. The reason I began to write on here was to say how it is for the wives/partners of PC. Something not always acknowledged. Some have commented on the actual blog and I have allowed these comments to be published. This last week should have seen me getting my life back together happily with David. But sadly, no. When ‘c’ hits us, as I have said before, and something all of you know, the problems in our lives, already there, don’t diminish, go away, we still have them to deal with at the same time as the cancer. Likewise, when we come through the other side, we may have overcome the biggest of our worries, the ‘c’ word but the other nasties are still present. They didn’t go with the cancer, sad to say.

After my blog ‘After The Change. The return of the ‘F’ word’ and a postscript I wrote, I received a comment from the person the postscript was meant for. Telling me in no uncertain terms what I can and can’t write on social media. It was malicious, full of lies and threatening. After last week’s blog ‘Scary Expectations etc.’, I received another comment from the same person, this time trying to involve someone who  is nothing to do with any of the lies being spread. At first the fear returned, I felt as I had as a little girl at the hands of my ‘mother’. Bullied and treated unfairly.But it didn’t stay for long. I was going to keep it to myself but decided to tell my husband. I spoke with David and he reassured me.  He said ‘who do they, the gossips, think is interested in something that did or didn’t happen more than 49 years ago? No one!’ He is right. I haven’t approved the comments because they make me feel ashamed of the person who wrote them. I know the truth. The other person involved knows the truth and so do my family here, Marie and David. That is all that matters. I won’t be bullied any more. I won’t be told what I can or can’t do and be controlled by people whose sole purpose is to hurt me. They will fail. This is my blog. My life. My truth. But it was all I could think about. Any person with any decency, who knew what we had been through with PC would have backed off, left us alone; but no.

In my Psychotherapy work, I help clients recognize that fear is the thing that can hurt you most. But that you can overcome it. If your fear is illness of a loved one, as with cancer in my case, you support those going through it. They have the treatment and hopefully recover. If you are afraid of anything, running away doesn’t work. Ignoring the fear doesn’t work. I know this personally and with my work with clients. ‘Feel the fear and do it anyway’ is a saying from an American author Susan Jeffers, one I use often in my work. All of us at some time in our lives, experience fear to a degree. We need to face it head on. It won’t just go away. But the one thing no one should ever fear are facts and the truth. David had PC. Fact! We and the team dealt with it. All the nasties, all the downs and all the ups and we are still here thanks to medicine. I was afraid of the future. Afraid of how it might change us, individually and as a couple. But those fears were unfounded. If anything changed it was for the better if that was possible. We are closer than ever now and know we can survive whatever is thrown at us.

Only those guilty of doing wrong should be afraid of the truth or of being found out. So why was I so scared, or feeling hurt and sad? Association I think. Taking me back to earlier in my life when this was how it was. Me being hurt by those who should have loved me. Sounds pathetic but as a child it is very real.  I was back there, little Carol Ann was evident, as happens when we are hurt or afraid.  After the comments and emails from my eldest daughter, I began to go down, thinking of the trouble she was trying to cause. David said he was worried for me. All the nastiness of the past few years by ‘family’ had made me ill and he said I was going that way again. This was unforgivable as it should have been a time for celebration but I was becoming obsessed with all the hurt being dealt me. He said it was affecting ‘us’ and I hadn’t realised. I won’t let anyone or anything do that. So I gave myself a talking to, pulled myself up, as they say and will now focus on ‘today’.

I need to get back to work and that is now in place. Seeing clients is something I love, helping people out of anxiety, depression etc. is something I know I can do. The past years, including being affected by PC, my self-confidence went down as far as it could go. Illness does that. Bullying does that. But no more. All of these things did their best to break me and failed. It is up to me to make sure the cracks are sealed and that nothing negative can get into my life anymore. I thought I was there, last week, when I wrote my blog but I was wrong.

Today my beloved husband came in from the garden and said, ‘No pad!’ pointing to his nether regions. ‘No pad since yesterday evening!’ How good is that! We hugged and laughed and that is what this part of my Journey should be all about. Those of you who have been here, at this stage, know how good that was. We have always used humour, always laughed at ourselves, our way of coping I suppose. Throughout our 32 years together, we have laughed things better and are still doing this now, during  the cancer and now with David and his recovery. It should be about sharing, having fun and loving. It will be. We have put back downsizing, I realise that it wasn’t this house that has made me so unhappy it was cancer and outside forces barging their way in. We have renovated our home and David, almost single-handed, since his operation in February, has designed and fitted a wonderful new kitchen. I need to appreciate this and enjoy living here again.

Sometimes you have to close the door on things you cannot change. Close out the bad times in order to enjoy the good. Now and again, even though I thought the door was closed enough, it gets pushed open again and the pain and hurt is able to get in. So today I have decided to close it and lock it forever. Barricade it if necessary to prevent what is left of my life and that of my family here, who love me and whom I love, being contaminated by those who choose to do so. The bolts will be strong and re enforced. For someone who shut me out of her life and wants nothing to do with me, she keeps barging back in uninvited. My door was always open to her before this last time. No more.

One of the reason I haven’t worked is that cancer has stolen my self -confidence. It had been low after the previous few years for reasons I have told before but David having cancer meant that I felt inadequate, helpless, and unable to cope as well as I wanted. How could I possibly help others feeling like this. Last week I felt better than I had for a few years and began my re registration with my governing body, ready to recommence work.Then the comments, pushing me back to where I had been for a few years before, almost in danger of going back to zero. David stopped me. He reassured me, reminded me of how we, as a couple had survived everything and with his love and support I know we will be okay. It is me, me who had allowed myself to slip down again. But now I am back, work is happening and I am writing again. Back almost to my normal. I have taken back control. I need to concentrate on the things I can do, the things and people I love, my work and my writing. It’s time.

My memories of the past, my children, my grandchildren, will be selective, the happy times, those remembered with love and happiness. No more nasty and no more hidden from view. No one will tell me what I can and can’t post. These are my memories, in a way, my very own Memory Box, like those made for each of my children. It is the good times we share on social media, these memories were some of my good times. The others are still to come. It doesn’t matter what is said about my life, no one can change the facts. The truth. It is my life, my past and I am proud, that against all odds I have become a strong woman .The woman I have always worked so hard to become.

As the picture above says, this is my life and my story. So I will choose the next chapter. It will be happy. As an author it is already in edit mode. As a woman it has already begun. As a wife it will be a bestseller. As for the truth, it will be in every word.

Thank you for reading x.

This past week has taken me to the lowest place possible and the highest place experienced in my entire life. When life seems to be dealing you blow after blow, year after year, I think you get into a place where you expect it. Where you don’t expect things actually going right but expect the bad, the nasty and the cruel. Well that is where I have been for more years than I like to think about. So when I receive good news, sometimes it is almost too hard to actually feel good. To accept that something positive has happened. I can’t really believe it. I have lost the ability to believe and to feel relief and ultimately, happy.

If like me, you have been worn down either by poor health, a loved ones illness, bullying and pain; the fear is always there. It had become my constant companion. The ‘what if’s have had a field day and are present most of the time. So ‘good’ is in danger of being lost.

The past few years I have been the punch bag for family, mostly my eldest daughter and youngest sister, long before my Journey with PC had begun, before I began this blog for cancer with a little ‘c’, that had rendered me very low.So I was already in a dark place emotionally. Then came David’s diagnosis that I have written about since last year. I had been unwell, my youngest daughter lost her baby and had been unwell. PC, was I thought, at the time and several times since, the straw that might break the camels back. As I have said on here, cancer doesn’t care what you are going through, it just strikes at will and causes fear and worry. Now I expect it, bad news I mean, the fear is always with me. I don’t expect good news in any part of my life. I thought the family stuff had ended but out of the blue, wallop it is back.

Friday was no exception to the above, going to see the consultant for the results of David’s 6 month PSA result and his future re PC, was scary to say the least. The ‘what ifs’ were overbearing. I could hardly breathe. David was calm and as pragmatic as always. ‘Whatever happens, we can fight it together’, he reassured me on our long journey to the hospital. ‘But I don’t want to fight. I am all out of fight’ I wanted to scream but didn’t. I just smiled. I am good at that, pretending all is well, had lots of practice.

First we saw the incontinence nurse, then the ED nurse and finally the consultant. He talked for a while, asking David questions, going over what he had done during the operation. We knew all of this, were told last visit but I didn’t mind. All the time he was talking about that, he couldn’t give us the bad news. After his assessment of my husband, he calmly said ‘You are cancer free. The PSA is undetectable again’. I sat numb for a while. ‘That’s okay then’, words spoken by my husband seemingly in the distance. ‘That’s okay’? I wanted to scream, it’s not okay! It’s wonderful. Amazing. Thank God’. was what I wanted to shout at the top of my voice but in reality I just sat there, numb. In disbelief. Where was the catch? Where was the bad news? The consultant stood and shook our hands and we left his room. We came out silently and walked through the huge  hospital foyer that suddenly looked amazing. Walking out to the car, it was pouring with rain and blowing a gale. We stopped and looked at each other and smiled. Hugging and laughing in the rain all the way back to the car. It was over.

That evening after telling Marie, my son and close family and friends, then posting on the groups I belong to who have shown such love and support throughout this horrible time, and Facebook friends, I suddenly felt tearful. I wanted to share with my family, share this wonderful piece of news that would change our lives back to happy. I wanted to share my news as I always had done in years past, with my eldest daughter and grandsons, as normal families would. But my family is anything but normal so I couldn’t. The call I dreaded making was to my brother Tony , but he had told me to ring after we had seen the consultant. Tony has terminal lung cancer so it was hard to make this call. He was overjoyed, genuinely happy for us both and that made it feel better. I pm’d my two nieces who are still within my family unit and both said how happy they were for us both. So family is smaller than it should be but the things that have happened, like cancer with a little ‘c’ and the nasties from ‘family’ are in the past now. Today is about the future and I will be happy with those here with me and not let those who try to hurt me rain on my parade.

I heard a young war veteran, Sam Boyle, who is walking around Britain for mental health, PTSD mainly, say on the radio, ‘It’s not the horrors of fear. It’s not about overcoming fear. It’s working through it and with it, every day of your life, that makes you strong.’  I see that now. My childhood and early adulthood had been filled with fear, recently I had fallen back into that, constantly being afraid, expecting the worst but no more. 

I must admit to one downside of this past week. I have worked in the past with survivors of all kinds of horrors, situations, abuse and war, accident or illness, who suffer survivor guilt. I found it hard to write to members of the groups I belong to, who have a terminal prognosis, disease that cannot be cured and telling them of David’s outcome. I feel guilty as anyone would, as I did when I told my brother. But I have also to understand that they want to know about successes, even if they themselves can’t be helped. They are a very unselfish group of men and I love and support them all. I will continue to be a PC bore, telling anyone who will listen, suggest to every man I meet, within reason and where appropriate, to get tested. I will be an advocate for change and awareness at every opportunity. This has been a wake up call and I don’t want anyone else to go on this journey I never wanted to make, if it can be prevented.

So, life was hard enough when this unwanted entity came uninvited into our lives. It caused pain, wreaked havoc and even though it finally left, the damage is done and we have to pick up the pieces. No, I haven’t lost my beloved husband but I could have done. So the ‘F’ word is still around because it came so close. A wake up call. But with this and the prior few years of bombardment from those who should know better, we have lost so much. Most of which we won’t get back, the biggest, being Time. But there is a positive here, we have gained so much. Friends, in reality, friends in virtuality, gratitude and love. So Thankyou cancer and thankyou to those determined to hurt us, Thankyou for teaching me such a lot over the past years.

The ups and downs of the past few days have been tremendous in their strength. The ‘ups’ have been wonderful, enlightening, uplifting. I can see the beauty around me, I can smile again, even laugh. David was singing in the garden this morning, wonderful for me to hear. I can see our future once again and it will be so good.

The other ‘stuff’ will not keep spreading its’ poisonous decay, I won’t let it. Tell the lies, the made up stories and the gossip, I don’t care. Nothing you can throw at me will come close to the horror of the closeness of losing my husband, the man who helps hold me together through everything. My rock. I am as strong as him now. You’ll not beat me down again.

I don’t know whether this is how you feel when you are ‘high’. Ecstatic, euphoric, deliriously happy. I don’t know. When the drug of your choice wears off and you begin to come down, feel low and descend into a huge black hole as I began to do yesterday. I don’t know. I have been tearful with relief but if I ever, for any reason, go down again, I will read my own blog and remind myself of this Journey. I was at rock bottom before it all began and then discovered that rock bottom had a basement and I was pushed down it, and was even lower than the previous 3 years. Now I am out!

On this stage we call life, the villains come in all shapes and sizes. People, disease, perpetrators of abuse. They don’t come one at a time or on their own, they sometimes come in gangs unwarranted, evil and destructive. Well we have killed off the biggest of these villains to attack and infest us; cancer with a little ‘c’. The villains left, still inflicting the poison are insignificant now, and the show will go on regardless. A few nasty characters are still on the stage, still trying to ruin the happy ending but they will fail. Truth and good will always prevail.

My love and thoughts are with anyone fighting cancer, everyone in the groups I am part of and I will continue to blog. It may be,more personal and I will tell you before you read, in case it doesn’t interest you. I wish you all the luck and love in the world and thank everyone for the love and support you have shown me on this Journey , that is written from my perspective not David’s.  Never stop hoping. x

The past years have seen us both fight the biggest battle of our lives. David having cancer. Before that, we both fought for my professional and writing career and we won both. 100% record I think.

So Life and the ‘nasties’,do your best. Throw anything you have at us and we will fight you off and win. These past years have made us stronger than ever, made me stronger than ever. After the worst few years of my adult life, to quote Sir Elton John, ‘I’m still standing’.

Thankyou for reading x

I began this blog last week, Wednesday to be exact when I first began to notice the changes in David. I hadn’t really thought about them before but on that day, they were evident and hence the beginning of this blog.

He is recovering very well, back to doing all the things he has always done. So is happier in himself and feels, in his words, ‘normal again’. As all of you reading this will know, PC changes a person, a couple in many ways. We don’t change by choice but it is thrust upon is. I must have read everything there was ever written about this nasty disease, cancer with a little ‘c’. That meant I was ready if that’s ever possible and thought my husband was as well. We talked about the physical side of our relationship and the most important thing to us both is that he survived and we were still together. We also knew that at first, the incontinence could be an issue and he has dealt with that so much better than I had expected. He is almost back to normal with this and that makes him feel more in control, pardon the pun, so more of a man. We have even had a few laughs about this, documented in previous blogs. He has been amazed at words I have used for the first time, words I have for the 300 years we have been together, avoided. This has been a source of amusement for him as I had always, apparently, appeared quite a prude. After surgery for PC ‘prude’ is not possible.

But back to the ‘change’ in my title. They have dawned on me slowly over the past few weeks really. I am so proud of how he has handled everything but have noticed how sometimes pre occupied he is about the future. Our future, hence us house hunting. He is planning an easier life, less to do, more time for us both to think of each other. He has talked of all the wasted time, time stolen from us through family feuds, nasty times that we have wasted because of others attempts to bring me down. I am the one with the ‘what ifs’. It is me who constantly thinks of the future, not David. But that has changed. He has changed. He worries about what might happen if something happens to him. He has always said in defiance of death and illness that he has to live to 96 years of age, to recoup his pension! To get back what he paid in to the MOD. We often laughed about this. But not now. He needs to make sure I am okay, hence the downsizing. Something I talked about a few years ago but that he wouldn’t contemplate. He is behaving as though he is getting old. Age has always just been a number and he has never felt old or acted old until now. I know we are all getting there, older I mean, but he has refused to accept his for as long as I have known him. He never used to stop, never took breaks whilst doing jobs but foes now.

Before his diagnosis, we bought a new kitchen, as we had thought we would stay here for the rest of our lives but now he is installing the kitchen with a view to moving. The kitchen come breakfast room, is 30′ long and around 12′ wide, so no easy task but it is looking amazing. So really this is not behaving ‘old’ but I know he often thinks it. I often find him sitting, almost slumped in his chair, looking tired, looking sad. I know that way of sitting, I must show him this so many times, he is in the ‘what if’s’ thought where I try not to go but can’t avoid it sometimes.

Another change is that he asks me to go to every appointment with him now, something that is new. He has not had reason to visit our GP very often, if at all before his routine tests that showed his raised PSA, but now we go everywhere together. I don’t mind of course, but another change. I always knew things might change but didn’t expect my husband to change. Stupid I suppose because it is him who had the disease, the surgery and is recovering, not me and I have changed I know that. I suppose I just didn’t expect it or allow myself to think it might happen. He is still the funny, loving, most times happy David who still shows his love for me every day, so what does a little change matter.

As I have said in last week’s blog, life has dealt us many blows these past few years. My family has hurt me, betrayed me, tried hard to ruin me and through all of that David has not faltered. He has loved me, held me and pulled me through with his quiet strength and sense of humour. We will get through anything together, we have proved that many times. He has never doubted my ability, when lies were told and my career was on hold, he encouraged me and helped me rebuild it and get back on top. Despite the lies that have since been disproved, that awful time is behind us or at least I am trying hard to put it there, it still hurts. .He has held me through the night, softly blotting my tears on the many occasions they fell and held me so tightly I knew I would be okay. He is still my rock. Now it’s my time to do the same for him. Not because of family but because of cancer with a little ‘c’. A tiny letter with huge consequences.

When PC first touched our lives, I knew it was my turn to step up and it was hard. I was still very unwell and had been left very low because of the previous few years but I was determined to be there for the man I love. Wasn’t sure I could be but promised myself I would do everything I could to make this horrible time as easy as possible. The nasties from family had been stopped so life became a bit easier from that point of view. David never complained, took it all in his stride and reassured me when I had my little wobbles. I tried to keep them from him but we are too close to be able to do that. You will know from previous blogs, of my ups and downs, my screaming, shouting and swearing at cancer. My fears, my doubts and my ‘what ‘ifs’. My wonderful husband, never showed any emotion throughout the tests, the waiting and the pre op. It wasn’t until he woke from the anesthetic, which I have told in detail in earlier blogs, that he took my hand to his lips and I saw tears. Later that day he told me he had thought he wouldn’t wake up after the op. He had thought our kiss before he went down would be the last time he saw me. I was shaken and felt I had let him down because he had not felt able to voice that to me. He had kept something so scary to himself. I understand now, it was because he loved me. He didn’t want me to worry about his fear.

There is a positive to the changes in my beloved husband and one is that he seems to understand how all the family ‘stuff’ had affected me. He often said he didn’t, that he couldn’t understand why I let the horrid things my daughter and sister were doing and had done to me, touch me as they had. Last week he said he did. I told him he was getting soft in his ‘old age’, he smiled a kind of sad smile and agreed.

So these changes to my man have been happening but life has been carrying on, I had almost forgotten about the past few months in the excitement of looking for a new forever home, having family back in my life and looking to the future with hope and excitement. That’ll teach me. When we arrived back from a day house hunting on Friday, there it was on the mat. A letter asking David to attend his Consultant’s clinic for his 6 monthly check up. It was like being kicked very hard in the chest. I felt numb. I asked David how he felt he just said he hadn’t realised it had been 6 months already. He knew it was coming and so that’s fine. Fine! I wanted to shout. How is it fine? How is any of this fine? All the ‘what if’s came flooding back like a torrent of water and I felt I would fall apart. I don’t understand why I was surprised or shocked, like David I knew it was coming but had worked so hard on being positive, being strong I had forgotten to work hard at being prepared!

The post op test had said the cancer was less aggressive than the consultant had thought and there were no indicators that he hadn’t got everything out. David’s PSA was undetectable. He was happy that David would be fine so why am I worried? I have been here before. Post biopsy, David had no previous symptoms and so I thought the biopsy would be clear. I wasn’t prepared for us being told he had cancer and I almost fell apart. So perhaps, just perhaps, my mind is just not taking anything for granted and that is why the ‘what ‘if’s are back, I am not sure. What I do know is that I need to be strong, hold on tight and know that whatever Friday brings, at the clinic, we will be in it together. Easy to say but harder to put into practice. The being strong I mean, not facing whatever, together. We will always do that.

So PC, BRING IT ON. We are ready for you, together we will be okay, David knows it and I must try and believe it.

Thanks for reading x

And now the postscript:

I apologise to anyone who finds this wrong to write on here, but I have no choice. I have to put a stop to this.

This is for someone I know reads my blog, I don’t understand why she does but know she does and this is the only way I can say this as she won’t talk to me direct.

You have chosen to live outside of our lives and I have at last accepted that. Stop trying to cause me trouble by spreading lies, stop involving people who you have nothing to do with, by asking them to give me messages. The issues mentioned have no foundation and you know that. You have already, last year, spread these lies on social media and on my blog. My life is currently hard, I don’t need any more stress thank you. We, my family here, don’t want this kind of intimidation, cruelty and gossip. Our lives are hard enough as you know. If you have something to say to me, please be big enough to tell me, not people who you contact just to cause pain and hurt. The person you involved has enough going on in their lives without you trying to involve them in your petty drama. You chose the outside and as much as it hurts, please stay there and get on with your life as I am trying to do and leave those I love alone.

One year ago today, I wrote a blog on here ‘Memories and Fairytales’. It was at a horrible time and I won’t repeat the sentiments, some of you will remember some won’t but can go back and read it if you feel you would like to. It received a nasty comment that I hadn’t until today allowed, from a young ‘family’ member who knows nothing about me or my life; except what she has been told by those who, at the time, wished me everything bad because of my honesty. She was someone, who when part of my life, many years before, I was very fond of. I have no animosity toward her.She made fun of my calling my life a Fairytale. Well if she had known about me and my history she would have understood, why I wrote, that my life with David was indeed a fairytale ,after the nightmares of the early parts.A Fairytale I could only dream of as a child.

Although this  blog,is again, not very much about PC, it is about my Journey, the reason for the blog. Illness and cancer with a little ‘c’ does not come in isolation. It doesn’t care how you are, previous to its existence or how much you have to deal with without its presence. No, it just barges its way into your life and wreaks havoc in a huge way and in every part of your life! I have told of some of the heartache prior to David’s diagnosis and this past week the memories of those, have come back in a very real way and reminded me of things I would like to forget. This past year has been a catalyst for change. The 4 years before had made everything a little different, wearing away at my safe, my peace of mind. Not all at once but stealing it all the same. Stealing the magic from my fairytale tiny piece by tiny piece. Every nasty, dulling the sparkle, taking the magic and tarnishing everything in its way.

In 2009 I published my autobiography and it went straight to Number One in the Nielsen charts, staying in the top ten for months. It was unexpected, hugely surprising and yes, exciting. Although the story was anything but, the readership and reviews etc were amazing and I was both humbled and happy to have shared and helped so many. All of my family were with me 100% and shared my success. The following year, the book selling in 4 countries and still doing amazingly well, I wrote the second book which was and is still a success. Life with David  and my youngest daughter was blissful. Hard work as we had horses and rescued ponies, dogs and cats and lived on a small holding in Monmouthshire. But blissful even so. We moved to West Wales to have more land to be able to take on more rescues and that part is history and well photographed on my social media. Also to be close to the coast. I drove people mad with my constant joy of looking out of every window of my new home at the glorious country side views. The beauty of nature, the lake and ponds full of wildlife. We grew fruit and vegetables and lived an amazingly happy life. The only down part was being such a long way from my eldest daughter Lisa and her sons. But we spoke every day on the phone, sometimes many times. She was happy fostering and looking forward to adopting one of her charges, a tiny baby girl. Hannah So more happiness for us here , a new granddaughter. The house is 1920’s and we set about renovating it, taking it back to its period and making it look like a 20’s home. I was working in my much-loved job as a Psychotherapist and life was wonderful. A fairytale.

Moving here was about ridding ourselves of a mortgage and having enough land to sustain our horses. West Wales was the place we chose. I knew I would like it but didn’t know how much I would love it. Our dream home. Peaceful, quiet, full of wildlife, Geese in the Spring and Summer, Mallards all year round and other water birds. An abundance of wild birds and the hugest of skies. Looking out at night, at the non light polluted heavens was magical and amazing. Often when I looked up to the stars and the brightest of moons, I would tell myself that Lisa and her family, Tony and his family could also look up at the skies and would see the same moon and the same stars so we were not that far apart. Silly yes, but comforting. The dogs loved it here, so did our little cats, we have also gained two barn cats who will stay with us now for life. They chose us, so who are we to turn them away. Life was too good to be true. I know that now.

In 2012, my beloved horse Star died. That, it seems, was the beginning of a downward spiral of horrible events that continued to this day. I had posted her death and my feelings on Facebook and also on my author age, little knowing that this would have dire consequence. A young girl wrote telling me she had and was being sexually abused and needed my help. She begged me not to tell the police and spoke tome in confidence, knowing that as well as an author, she had read my book, she knew that as   a Psychotherapist, she could talk to me without my telling anyone.I became entrenched in a nightmare of sexual abuse stories, tales of brutality, depravity, rape and CSA that almost lost me my sanity. All carried out over email, 7000 over 6 months; 24/7 telephone calls and emails and hundreds of pictures and photos of the depraved acts this person was supposedly subjected to. I understand now how this happened as I was heartbroken and vulnerable at this time. I hadn’t grieved for my loss and was at a low ebb.I tried hard to get out of it but every-time I did, the young person involved threatened suicide and went missing. Her ‘mother’ would contact me and plead with me to talk to her daughter. Every time, wanting to keep her safe, I relented not knowing that it was my own emotional safety that was at risk. This ended in  nasty court case where she was found guilty and punished. David and Marie were supporting me as much as they could but because of my profession I kept most of what was happening to myself. I was also holding on to the unresolved grief for Star. Lisa would ask what was wrong when we spoke on the phone but I couldn’t tell her.

In 2013, because I disagreed with the way Lisa treated a foster child, as I have told on here in previous blogs, she cut me out of her life. Said I was ‘dead’ to her. So I lost her, my grandsons and my new granddaughter. It broke and still breaks my heart. From that day on I have been the butt of cruelty and bullying on social media and by email, from her, some of my ‘family’ and my youngest sister who again, I have spoken about on here. She came barging back into our lives after 40 years of no contact, no knowledge of my family,trampling over everyone in her path and pounding our emotions without a care.

The next few years, brought more emotional bullying, that wore me down. Marie had a serious illness and we nearly lost her.  She then became engaged to be married, to our delight was pregnant but sadly lost her child. Our grandchild. Horrible time. She has since married and that is possibly the only good thing in the years talked about today.

The year of the nasty hoax, 2012, my best friend Mo lost her fight with cancer and a few years later so did my eldest sister. My brother-in-law had died a few years before. In the next few years we lost 3 more ponies, all rescued and all quite young. It was a sad and scary time for everyone.  We thought that was it. We thought life had dealt us every blow but then back it came, another nightmare, the biggest in our lives up until that day: last year, just as we were emotionally adjusting to this life, with its ups and downs, it’s losses that were great, my beloved husband is diagnosed with Prostate cancer. Our lives turned on their heads, devastation set in at first but we kind of coped with help, not from family but from groups on Facebook who had been through all of the nasties PC can bring. He had surgery in February this year and during his recovery, another huge blow, my brother Tony, the only constant in the whole of my life since childhood, is diagnosed with terminal lung cancer. I was at rock bottom. Living so far away and not in good health myself, David still in recovery, at first I couldn’t visit but have managed this once in recent months. We talk at least twice a week. Not the same but something.We had come to West Wales with two cats, brother and sister, very emotionally close to each other, in October 2016 sadly and suddenly our little girl Bookie Rose, died. Luther was grief-stricken and we almost lost him. David had surgery a month after our little dog Ellie Mae had surgery, both for cancer, David is recovering, not completely out of the woods yet but hopeful but Ellie’s cancer is now inoperable. While all of this was happening, last year the bullying online continued but has now stopped, I am happy to say, but the legacy of lies by the perpetrators lives on. I have not been able to work for the past few years, everything taking its toll on my health . People have noticed how I have changed. David says I have lost my sparkle. Lost my sense of fun and enjoyment. I certainly lost my sense of self-esteem and self-confidence,I know that.I think I just lost my way. So now, after the worst few years of our time together,we have decided to downsize and move. So easy to say, just a couple of words but with such huge consequence and we would be leaving our dream home. Where we were living our Fairytale.

To have sparkle, you have to have had the belief in the magic of life. Have the belief and the ability to live and love. The ability, even after being hurt, to believe that good will overcome bad, hope,that love will overcome hate. Like in a fairytale. As a child, I always hoped. I hoped things that were nasty would stop. I believed in fairies for far too long. I had to . If monsters existed, as I had proof they did, then why couldn’t fairies? Meeting David, that hope for happiness had been fulfilled in ways I had never thought possible. Hope had not let me down that time. We were so happy, so much in love. We are still very much in love so we can be happy as we were, once again. 25 years before it began to be damaged, to be tarnished. 25 happy fairytale years.

This past two days, we have been looking at houses with a view to move. At first, a few weeks ago, it was exciting but yesterday I found it scary and sad. It has become increasingly clear how much we love it here. Giving up on this dream is going to be hard. Only this morning David said that a huge part of him never expected ever to leave this beautiful place, the place we love. It was our dream come true. Our forever home. Not many get to fulfil that kind of dream, we are lucky. After 25 happy years we came here, expecting to be a happy. Maybe we asked or expected too much I don’t know. But happy we were. We were pleasantly surprised at how much we loved being here surrounded by our horses and how much we enjoyed this way of life and this pace of life. I think we both always thought we would never leave. I have bombarded Facebook with photos of the gardens, the views, the wildlife and I am sure bored many with the postings.

So yesterday I felt very low but today, not quite as much. It isn’t the building that makes us happy. It isn’t the people in my life now who have ruined my happiness. It is those who have now shut me out. But that’s okay, who would want people who  only know how to lie, who hurt, who hate, in their life? I don’t, I have those who love me,right here by my side. None of this was my choice but it is how it is.

The other nasty, cancer with or without a little ‘c’ is always a risk for us all. Maybe it will comeback, who knows if it’s actually gone? The people who have ruined things for us both here, the ones who have tried hard to ruin me professionally and failed, they have a lot to answer for but they will not win. Yes it’s true I lost my way, couldn’t see the beauty from my windows for a long while, couldn’t enjoy being here for months and months, but you are not going to steal my future with my wonderful man.

Why?

Because, I have never been a quitter!

Those who know who they are, those who have done their best to ruin my life, I am still here! Still fighting! You failed.

As for cancer or any kind, you will not destroy the essence of me. You have done your best over the past 2 years damn you! But you haven’t succeeded. You won’t break me. You won’t break us! We will survive anything life throws at us, our track record of doing so speaks for itself.

We will move house, to make life better and easier for David. The reality is, that yes,our dreams have been shattered. Our Fairytale turned into many nightmares. But. We will build another life. Have other dreams and my Fairytale will begin again. somewhere else but continue it will.

Thankyou for reading x

Thursday 27th July is imprinted in my mind forever. It was the day, one year ago when our world turned on its head. The day we entered a different world and not by choice. Our happy, love filled life together as a couple, despite family trying their best to destroy it, changed to a life lived on the edge. The days of relaxation with our animals, long walks with our dogs and time in the house and garden at our own pace, changed to  weeks full of doctor’s appointments, tests, hospital visits and lots and lots of waiting. Yes we were still here ‘on the farm’, nothing had changed….. Everything had changed. With 3 little words, from a doctor who looked as though he should still have been in school, we were sent  into a place we didn’t ask to go, a place we didn’t want to be and where we couldn’t find the path back. Back to the normality that over the past few long years we had fought hard to retain.

The trouble with an illness like cancer is, that it is just that. Yes it is an illness that  I can identify with so much. But ‘cancer’ has another definition in the dictionary.

“an evil or destructive practice or phenomenon that is hard to contain or eradicate claims so many lives”

It is a blight and can spread, it’s treatment is often exhausting, scary and sometimes cannot control the spread. No wonder the biggest emotions it evokes is Fear. At least, it is for me. It is also an illness that spreads beyond the symptoms themselves. It spreads into the very being of the sufferer and their families, particularly their wives or partners. Spreads and spreads. Gives little or no peace of mind,, no that was stolen at the diagnosis. I haven’t found it again as yet.

The legacy of PC that I struggle with , is the ‘what ifs’. Sometimes these can come crashing down on me and I am lost. I try to plan ahead. All the things we had begun to do, even when life was fraught, as it was pre cancer, with family stuff weighing us down. Last year, when cancer with a little ‘c’ stopped us so violently, from doing the things we had begun,we are now trying to do. Looking to downsize. To get on with our lives. I want to go  back to the work I love and was good at, that stopped while I was fighting for my reputation and writing career last year. We need to move on now, whatever that might mean, after David’s surgery, even though we know we may not be out of the woods yet. I try to be positive. I thought I was winning. I really believed life was getting better. I have gone back to writing my 4th book, made arrangements for my Private Practice to resume. I was pushing ‘c’ away with the same violence it hit us with . Yes I thought for a while I was winning.

But.  It is always there; the empty place setting at the table. The elephant in the room. The spectre at the feast. There. Right there in front of me everywhere I turn. I can’t rid myself of the memories, the dread, the ‘what ifs’ but mostly the Fear.

Sometimes after a ‘good’ day, I manage  to relax. I can sit with my beloved husband, my cat on my lap and our two little dogs next to us. Just being together, close. Sometimes, not often, but sometimes I actually find myself laughing. Yes laughing. Then suddenly, as though something in my head clicks in and shouts, ‘What are you doing laughing? What have you got to laugh about? How long will this last? How can you be happy?’ I am back there. Like a slap in the face I am back there. Back with the waiting. For tests. For results. For post surgery etc. etc. Once again my old familiar, yet unwanted companion is back, gripping hold of me in case I try to run. My worst enemy, from childhood, from the past few years and most of all since David’s diagnosis, the ‘F’ word rears its ugly head and has the last word. Fear has a vicious hold on my fragile being.

Yes the legacy or one of them, of this nasty disease, is that fear can return so quickly with no warning. The ‘what if’s’ are never far away. Association, something I have written about on here before, is so powerful and can throw you back to the depths of despair where you have already been on the journey that is Prostate cancer.

We had to see our GP at the end of this week gone. I have a poorly wrist and so have been for X-rays etc. David has a small lump on the side of his nose. He had it scraped a years ago but it is now back and bleeding. Our GP read the histology from back then and calmly told us it was cancer. The gift that keeps on giving is here again! Although we know it is a basal cell carcinoma, not dangerous unless it is left, and although  we know it can’t kill; just  the word ‘cancer’ was enough to send my mind spinning. Back to last year. Back to my brother curently suffering from terminal cancer. Back to all the friends and family I have already lost to this destructive evil force. Couldn’t stop it. my mind I mean. Had no control over where it went or how speedily it went there. Fear was evident and I had to hold on so tightly to keep ahead of this latest nasty, to hit us head on. Just by implication it was enough to bring my mood down and the worry back big time.

David? He was just a bit annoyed, more doctors ,more hospital appointments more treatments and more waiting. At first I thought we should put off the search for our next home. Wait and see what this latest news brings. Wait and see what the ‘what ifs’ bring. But then I thought, this tiny little letter of the alphabet, ‘c’, has already stolen so much of our lives, our time. We will not allow it to steal anymore.  I have to remove its power to control and hurt us as I have done in the past in situations that were painful. Remove the power. Maybe Carol Ann was still there. Maybe a tiny piece of her old positivity and resolved broke through, who knows.

The end of next month, David will have his 6 month PSA. We are of course hoping against hope that it is still undetectable but if not, we will face it together as we have done everything in the past. He is now waiting for surgery to remove the cancer on his face. We can’t ‘waste ‘ anymore time. We can’t let this illness, cancer, dictate anymore of our life. I have to dismiss the legacy of fear and fight back. I don’t know if I can because I feel quite fragile but know I have done it in the past and so should be able to do it again. I have to be positive against all odds.

So.

I will go back to work. I will finish my current book. We will finish renovating and we will find our next home. We will fool any illness that tries to get the better of us and this includes cancer with a little ‘c’. Somehow.

Me? I must throw out the ‘F’ word, with the rest of the rubbish that has come my way in the past 3 years and live for David and for today. Sounds so easy. I know it won’t be. Yes today is a bad day. Yesterday spent with my daughter was a good day. Maybe from now on, the better days will become my norm. Let’s hope.

Thankyou for reading. x

Last evening was fraught, with a very poorly pony and so I didn’t watch a program, that every season I say I won’t watch. Long Lost Families. But David being thoughtful captured it and I watched it today. I love the program don’t get me wrong but it brings back so many memories of one of the hardest times of my life. There is always a Mum searching for a child who was taken from her for adoption and last night was no exception. The presenters are so good at supporting the people filmed although sometimes I feel the reunions are intrusive but I suppose they are done with the characters permission and would not make life-like stories if they didn’t. But I do find them hard to watch at times. I love seeing people re united, love seeing siblings who had no idea of each other existing, meeting for the first time. But seeing a Mum find her child whom she had adopted sometimes years and years before, meet that child and hug them. I have to fight hard to hold back tears that I have recently discovered I can shed.

Today, with so much help out there for single mums, for those who find themselves pregnant and desperate, I hope more babies stay with their birth mum, have contact with their birth family than in the past. I know it is hard today for people who are of a different generation, to understand the difficulties a woman faced if not married and pregnant. Or pregnant and not able to support a baby due. In my day, in the early ’70’s there was nothing. There was shortage of babies for adoption, especially blue-eyed blonde baby boys I was told at the time, but no financial support and no counselling or help of any kind. If you didn’t have a family around you, as I didn’t, there was only one way, adoption. Many children were ‘removed’ for other reasons, perhaps Mum was poorly and deemed unwell and so unable to care for her child. Sometimes the birth mum was persuaded that in the baby’s best interest she should let her babe go to adoption. Sometimes as in my case, she may have other children or another child and told that she risked losing all of her children if deemed not well enough to care for them. These children are often referred to, as ‘stolen children’.

I was divorced when I became pregnant by someone I trusted and who turned their back on me. I had a 3 year old daughter who was my world, my blessing. Lisa Jayne. I was ill with worry and had no one to help me, I agreed at that stage to have my baby adopted. My son was taken from me in hospital and I went home alone. I soon realised that this was wrong and was distraught. I found him and brought him home. Soon after, I collapsed, the worry, the withdrawal from GP prescribed medication had taken their toll and I was very poorly.GP was called and the wheels were in motion to remove my beautiful blue-eyed baby boy, Jonathan, whom I loved with all of my heart and have him adopted. As sick as I was I fought this, on my own. But I was made to make a choice that was no choice. Either try to keep them both and risk them being taken into care as I was unwell. To let them both be adopted which was unthinkable. Or to allow my son to go for adoption and keep my daughter.I couldn’t lose my daughter, my blessing. As I said, no choice. I had him for a further 2 weeks knowing I couldn’t keep him, a bit like one of the Mums in last nights program. Making it so very hard to let him go. I didn’t ‘give him up’, I didn’t ‘let him go to a family’, he had a family. He had me and Lisa. He was taken and that day left me on the ground outside of my bungalow, screaming after the car drove off with my precious baby.

So you can see why I find this program Long Lost Families hard but hope you can understand why I feel compelled to watch. To see Mums like me reunited with their lost children. Or maybe you can’t. I hopemy daughter watches it and can see how difficult it is for mums to be parted from their children without choice.

One thing in last nights episode that made me think, was how the presenter seemed so surprised that the birth mum had marked her lost baby’s birthday in her diary, every single year. How she would tell her other children about him, how she didn’t go one single day without thinking about him. Why the surprise? She carried him for 9 months, he had heard her heartbeat from the inside.  No subsequent children would ever take his place, each child brings their own love. I did all of this. I have always had a photo of my son on my mantle piece. Lisa and Marie have always known about him and in 1992, after Social service apologising for the way I was treated, they located him and we were reunited. I have a relationship with him now but missed so much.

Adoption back then was final. I was asked if I would write my son a letter, that his new parents would give him that when they thought he was ready. They also promised to give him the last set of clothes and bootees I bought him and a soft toy elephant that he pulled from the pram the day he was taken. They did none of this. I understand why. I don’t want to but I do. In the past I have given talks to would be adopters, adopted children and adoptive parents. I always say, let the child know about their history. Tell them about their mum and dad if you know anything. If you bring them, up with love, this won’t hurt your relationship with them, it will only help in the future,especially if they want to contact their family. It will show their child how much you love them. But as I said, I know why the adopters don’t do this. In my own case,Yes they asked for my letter and yes I believe they meant at that time, to give these things to Jonathan, their now son. But as time goes on, the last person they want to think about is me. The baby becomes theirs and they want to have no past for him only the life he has with them. I understand but that doesn’t make it right.Yes he is theirs now but he was mine once and I don’t just go away. The adopters are overjoyed. The baby is hopefully happy and unaware that life is anything but happy. The mum who gave birth to their child is grieving sometimes for the rest of her life. As I said, ‘we’ don’t just ‘go away’.

Modern adoption is supposedly open. I do hope it is. Children have the right to know where they come from, what kind of people their birth families were. They need to know how the adoption came about and why. But above all, they need to be told that their mum loved them. How can being told anything else be good for any child?

I can’t say I am proud because I ‘gave my son up for a better life or to be part of a family’. He had us, we were and now again are, his family. I wish I could but that would mean I did this out of choice and I didn’t. Do I regret this happening, yes and will do for the rest of my life. Yes I am grateful to his parents and glad he was happy but how can I be happy about not having those years I missed with him. So regrets yes but grateful that he understands and doesn’t judge me. Glad that I now have my son back in my life and we share a bond and a love.

There is and always will be a place for adoption and I admire those who choose this path but am glad that now, under the new law, that, every child will have the right to know where they came from.

Why have I written this today?? I have read on Social media, people criticising the program. Don’t watch it if this was you. I have heard people saying it is not true life. It is. That babies were not ‘taken ‘ from their mums, maybe not today, but they were, I know only too well. I read that ‘birth mums have all the support they need and no child needs to go to adoption’. Perhaps that is true today but it hasn’t always been.

I think this progamme is done very well. It provides endings and beginnings for the families involved. Sometimes the person the searched for has died and that is heartbreaking as in last night’s story, but the young woman involved met her sister and that was wonderful to see.

These programs are not for everyone but, for me,they remind me of a horrid time but one I will never forget. But also gives me hope for the families reunited and happy again in the peace of finding their lost loved ones. It can also provide much-needed and overdue endings, in one way or another. How can that be wrong.

I hope the team,keep it up, keep reuniting those who seek the help and have happy ending, even after many many years. Sometimes it happens.

Thanks for reading .x

Slightly different blog this week but still part of My Journey. Please bear with me.

One of the things I find so wrong with people, is the way they are always so willing to judge. As part of my Professional Ethics, I have to be non judgmental but this was something I was long before I trained as a Psychotherapist. I always gave people the benefit of the doubt, even if I was told they were ‘no good’, ‘dishonest’ etc. I would always give them a chance to prove to me, that what I had been told was not true. Sometimes however, I was proved wrong and those who had ‘warned’ me would say ‘I told you so!”But that is how I am, trusting until someone has hurt me or mine, or shown me that they are not who I believed them to be. How can I judge what I don’t know? What gives me that right? I have had reason this week to think about this a lot and hence this blog.

I had one of my 2 weekly calls with my brother Tony and it was a good phone-call. Although his condition hasn’t changed, he was quite upbeat and teasing, just as he always used to be. We talked a bit about my sister June and neither of us know why she won’t talk to me. We were always close until lies were told to her and sadly, because of who told her and her need to fit in, they were believed and she was taken in.I always ask Tony to give her my love because it doesn’t depend on being loved back, it is just that I love her. I know she has been fed stories that are not true as all of my family have but with her I make allowances as she is vulnerable and easily swayed by certain people around her.  Yes it upsets me because I have never been able to talk to her and tell her the truth of this horrid situation.

Then I spoke with my nephew Paul, my late sister’s son. We chat every month and I keep in touch with him for her. We began talking about his dad David and then David’s mum whose house the ‘boys’ still live in. He knew nothing about her and so I enjoyed telling him what I remembered of this kind country woman who was so good to my sister. Paul asked what his mum was like as a girl, what we were like as a family growing up and why we were not all close now. He didn’t understand why some don’t talk to me and why none now talk to my youngest sister Trisha. I could only tell him what I knew. Tony had told her why , as he knew it and how betrayed he felt by her and my daughter. The conversation I found the hardest was when he asked me why my Trisha, calls my daughter Lisa, her daughter and my grandchildren her grandchildren. Paul knew Lisa when she was a little girl and we often visited his mum and Paul and his brother.This part of the conversation was very hard for me. He wants me to put it right as Georgina had wanted and I had to say that I had tried and failed. He still didn’t understand and how could I explain when I don’t either. This brought me to think about how family members have chosen not to ‘know’ me now, based on the lies told them. They have judged me on gossip, untruths and stories that the perpetrator told them. No one has ever asked my side. No-one has stopped and remembered the things I did for them before all of this gossip began. Thought about the kind of person I have always been. Even thought of how Tony loves me for my honesty ,although he often makes fun of me for it. How he trusted my daughter because she was my daughter.He has always known I would never judge them on stories told , I would take them as they behave to me and those I love. Yes I ‘over reacted’ when this was all going on but it all happened at a time we were having tests, biopsies etc for the cancer David was diagnosed with. So yes I shouted down the phone on one occasion. Yes I retaliated on social media to nasty remarks written about me. For which I have apologised over and over.Who wouldn’t? That doesn’t make me a bad person and no one had the right to judge me when they didn’t know the truth. One person’s side is never the whole truth.

People in general judge too quickly and too often. Yes judge those we know to be wrong or guilty of a crime. Judge those we know, by the actions towards us and others. But only judge based on facts and not gossip or untruths.  We judge too often. Judge too freely. Judge too quickly with nothing to back it up. Without knowing the facts.

So this week, with the phone-call to my nephew in the for-front of my mind, I came onto my computer and read some quite scathing reports of a young singer who had committed suicide. People judging, people saying how selfish he was. How the act of suicide should still be a crime, how it is the most selfish act any one can do. Who are these judges? What right do they have to make this judgment? I didn’t know anything about Chester Bennington until his death, except that part of his story had come up whilst I was researching suicidal ideation a few years ago and how he had contemplated it. I wonder how many of those calling him a coward. Saying he was selfish. Writing that he had let his family down and should have ‘put up with whatever it was’, knew anything about this young man. No-one I would hope because if they had known, their remarks might have been slightly more compassionate. His life had been troubled since he was a child. After the break up of his parents marriage, at aged 11, he was sent to live with his father. He found the separation traumatic and began to mess around with amphetamines. He moved back to his mother’s aged 17 and she managed to get him clean. He was bullied at school for years and thrown around by older boys because of his tendency to be skinny. But the worst thing was , he was molested and raped on more than one occasion. Life was indeed very hard for this young man who went on to become the lead singer for a group called Linkin Park. Sexual trauma, separation trauma and drugs have a habit of feeding off each other. His demons never ever left him and one day last week, he could take no more. He committed suicide. Yes a waste of life, but peace for Chester.

Child trauma, especially sexual abuse stays with you. I know. Victims often suffer from depression, sometimes not even realising why. It is one of the most common of todays illnesses, called a modern affliction but has always been with us. Some get help, others don’t. Sometimes families can see what is happening, most times they can’t. I had a son-in-law who committed suicide, I never thought him cowardly. His life had changed and it was the only way he knew he would let my daughter Lisa, his ex-wife, to get on with her life. No choice. He said his goodbyes and over and over again, I wish I had had the knowledge I have today because I would have known the last time I saw him what he was going to do the next day. I may have stopped him.I don’t judge him, I think he was generous and brave and deeply depressed. What right would I have to judge?

Depression is on the increase. People are still suffering silently. We don’t have the extended families that we used to have. People move for work, families get split apart and the elders are not always able to help ,especially if not told. So the demons are kept in our heads and sometimes the only way to get rid of them is to take our own lives. I know this feeling and so do many reading this. When someone chooses to do this, they have tunnel vision. The thoughts of family, friends, etc. don’t enter their minds. There is no room. In their heads what they are about to do is the only rational thing. The only way.Their one intention to reach the light at the end of that tunnel and they are very calm. How do I know this? I have worked with survivors of suicide attempts and this is what they tell me. Some of these clients have been judged by family and alienated from them. So wrong and so unfair.

So in this blog I want to ask you all to think before you make judgment. Do you know all the facts? Whether it is something you want to comment on, on social media, or to someone who has retold you something about another person. Have you heard their side of the story, whatever it is ? Do you know what you are reading is true? Do you have the right to judge? In most cases we don’t.

I belong to a few groups on here and appreciate every comment, good or bad. However I don’t like being judged by people who know nothing about me or my life. This week, I have read a few posts from members on my PC groups who seem to be expecting to be judged for what they say. For how they feel. For decisions they make. Mostly wives or partners apologising for venting anger. Sadness. Fear or resentment. It is obvious some expect to be judged. I am happy to say they never are. The group members are understanding, supportive, and compassionate. Also, on this journey none of wanted to make, we know these feelings, these emotions and I say, we are allowed to have every single emotions we show. None of us wanted this. None of us expected this. None of us knew we would feel these emotions and feel them so strongly that sometimes we vent, swear, scream and are angry and scared. I do this more than most, on here. I don’t have anyone to vent to, so I come on here. Should I be judged for doing that? I don’t think so and I really hope not.Some partners,begin to feel differently towards those affected by this cruel disease. I understand all of this. They should never be judged. Our lives have changed with no input from us.We didn’t ask for it. We don’t need it. We don’t want it! Me? I wasn’t ready. I was a bit complacent and also entrenched in other nasty stuff when this cancer with a little ‘c’ reared its ugly head. So this was like the final thing that almost tipped me over the edge. I wasn’t ready but would I have ever been? Probably not. But the last thing we need is people’s judgment particularly as no one knows how this is for any of us. No one knows how it is for me.

So judging others is not in my remit and shouldn’t be in yours. In general we hear it all the time. We possibly may even do it, I hope I don’t but maybe sometimes, I might, not realising but never intentionally and never to hurt. If I have nothing good or honest to say, my creed is to say nothing. When you have walked in another’s shoes, when you have lived their life, when you understand their pain, you may know how they feel but you still shouldn’t judge. It’s only when you have done this, that you can truly understand where that person is coming from. We are all different. How you react may not be how others do. Judging them is not your place and it is not theirs to judge you.

Thankyou for reading x

Firstly today, I would like to just say how sorry I am for those who have lost loved ones to this horrid disease and give my love to those who are still struggling. I think when a member of the group leaves us, it affects us all and I know myself that my thoughts are with all of you who have suffered this in the past few weeks particularly.

Something I have always felt in my life, is the importance of saying Thankyou to those who deserve it and sorry to those I have hurt or upset. I realised today that I need to say this here, in my blog.

It has been a strange week. As some of you know, I am making memory boxes for my children, my grandsons and my grand-daughter. I will write each a letter, enclose photographs of them as children, photos of anything that meant anything in their lives with me. What came to light this week, is that I have very little to leave my son Jonathan as he was adopted as a baby and so his childhood is not known to me, sadly. I know one day he will ask questions about his birth father that when asked on our reunion, he didn’t want to know. I can’t leave it this way, I need to gather information on him and write about our relationship. I am sure one day he will want to know his heritage and so I am putting together a scrap-book for him of photos and press cuttings of the man who fathered him.

Part of this search has put me in touch with a lady who unknowingly played a huge part in my life at one of the worst times of my life. She proved to be a good friend and confidante when my own family didn’t want to know. She came round when I needed her, spent time with me and my daughter Lisa, who was 3 years old at the time and tried very hard to make things right with the father of my 2nd child Jonathan. She knows the truth, she was there and for that I will be eternally grateful. I was a mess after my son was taken from me, at a time when I was very ill and unable to care for myself properly. She tried her hardest to help me but when it was ‘over’ I moved away and we lost touch. I have always wanted her to know that I am reunited with my son but most of all to thank her. So Thankyou so much Sandy. I have never forgotten our friendship and glad to have been able to talk the other day. x

Over the life of this blog, ‘My Journey’, I have vented my anger, my pain and my fears. Those who have read it have shown me nothing but kindness and love. I Thankyou all. When I began this journey none of us wanted to take, I was already beaten down by family stuff and felt so fragile that I was scared I might break. And break I almost did as I have said on here before. David says how strong I have been throughout his first diagnosis and then surgery and recovery. I never showed him how I really felt. How I thought my life was in free fall and that I would soon hit the bottom. No. I did that in this blog and shared everything, warts ‘n all. Sorry if this has proved too much for some of you but Thankyou to everyone who has commented and shown love and support. What is it they say ‘what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger’. Well I believe that now. So I want to say Thankyou to my ‘family who I won’t name again as I have already done that in earlier blogs, but yes Thankyou for throwing all the nasties in my face because without them to make my resolve stronger and giving me the ammunition to find my fighting spirit, who knows if I would have known how to fight without your input. How strong would I have been if the last 3 years had been  as they should have been, full of love and kindness as I see in other families. Yes it was horrendous and painful and nearly brought me to my knees but who knows, perhaps it was like a practice run for me to be able to deal with real trauma, real worries and real pain. After all the rubbish you threw at me, I am still here when I thought I might have floundered. So again Thankyou, you made me strong.

Another Thankyou is to everyone on social media especially Facebook for allowing me this platform to vent, cry, scream and share. For all the likes, the comments, the posts that helped me and to everyone who has made me smile of which there are many. Thankyou.

And now the sorry’s.

Last year and the previous year, after the nasty comments on Facebook on Mothers day, I openly posted on Facebook, all my anger, my hurt and pain and all the nasties that were being showered on me. I did this because the people concerned made sure I couldn’t contact them directly. They posted horrible things on my page, sometimes in made up names like ‘Bonnie Bon’ and made sure I couldn’t contact them. Cowardly to the extreme. To keep myself safe, to prevent this from happening every-time I turned on my computer, I took all those concerned and those around them, off my page , off my lists but the nasties kept coming so I knew that somehow my page was being read. On realising this, I began writing my side of what was happening, and everything that I needed to reply to , on open Facebook and that was not right. So here I am apologizing. Saying sorry because it was private and personal and should have remained that way. My only excuse is that I was going through hell. With our fears around David and PC and my own ill-health, my daughter Lisa and her aunt trying their best to ruin me and my writing career, I didn’t think. So.  To my brother Tony who I love so much. The family still in touch with me.  I am sorry. To my niece Tina and her family, to every one of my FB friends and anyone else who read these posts. I am sorry. I have tried to put things right but failed so this is the only way I can say it.

My Fears for the future.

Next month David will see the consultant and will have had his PSA test. He is recovering well, no issues and has regained his strength. So why I am worried? I guess it is because I at first was concerned but had been reassured by the consultant as his levels were not that high, he had no symptoms and his MRI and Bone scan were clear. So going for the biopsy results I was fine. I have told the story if this appointment in a previous blog. I fell apart. My world turned on its head and all the nasties and , all the horrid onslaught by family of the preceding years faded into insignificance. ‘We found cancer’. 3 little words that threw me into blind panic. Life has been this Journey ever since.3 little words that completely floored me. David, as I have said in the blog referred to, was okay. Pragmatic to the letter.

So now, almost 5 months after surgery, David is well and I thought I was okay. But as August draws near, the ‘F’ word, is returning in force.  Fear is never far away. The ‘what ifs’ I had promised I wouldn’t allow in, are back. I asked my husband how he felt and he said he never thinks about it. If things are not as good as we want or need them to be, if the news is not good, we will deal with it. His words. He says he will not let what might happen influence life today. ‘We will deal with whatever comes’. What faith this man has in us. In himself yes, but in me? I have to live up to this. As I have said before, I have no choice I just hope, once again I can come through and be as strong as he thinks I am.  Over the years since 2012 especially, I have got into the way of expecting bad things to happen. They have. I have to once again work on staying or rather being positive. Being who my darling man thinks I am. Being who I sometimes see glimpses of, a strong woman. Strong Carol Ann. David says he sees her all the time. I only wish I could acquaint myself with this woman and then maybe the ‘what ifs’ will become something of the past. Perhaps I will ‘whistle a happy tune’ for those who know the King and I. Fooling others and therefore fooling myself.

I read a blog this week, one I always read by a friend on Facebook, a member of a group I belong to Mark Bradford. It was about how his friends dealt with him talking openly about his cancer and his prognosis. They were his close friends, his ‘inner circle’ and they were very honest in response and I felt this a useful exercise. I felt Mark learned a great deal. I admire his writing, his truth, his honesty and his faith.

As some of you will know, I have lost a sister, in the past few years to the dreaded cancer and now have my brother with terminal lung cancer. He lives in Hampshire and we can’t get down very often to see him. Distance sucks. I talk to him sometimes twice a week and we always make each other laugh. Something we have never lost over the years. 22 years ago Tony was diagnosed with an illness that affected his memory and we were told it would only get worse. His wife and I took him for a nuclear scan at Haslar hospital and were told that Tony had about 2 years to live. That his memory would decline and that his quality of life would not be good. Lin, his wife and I were devastated but Tony seemed fine. His memory is not bad. Not as bad as mine on some days. He has been ill and almost housebound for a while now but remembers everything about us as children, everything I tell him about life ‘here on the farm’ and so we enjoy some happy phone calls.  My reason for telling you this is that they were wrong. The doctors knew very little about the illness Tony suffered. Multiple Infarct Dementia and I am sure gave us the prognosis that they reached at that time. I am happy to say they were wrong. So my reason,  as I began to say, in telling this, is that I suppose, with everything that is happening, I am hoping they are wrong again. Wouldn’t that be good!

For a few years after we came to live in Wales, Tony and Lin his wife visited for holidays sometime 3 or 4 times a year. It was lovely having them and sharing the beauty of this lovely country with those I love. During these visit Tony often talked of his death, his funeral plans etc. and always managed to make us laugh. Not a funny subject but like me, Tony used humour to disguise how he really felt. We both do this now on the phone. Talking about this, hurt, of course it did but he needed to do that and we were okay to share this with him. He has a wonderful sense of humour and sometimes others don’t appreciate how we are able to laugh at each other and ourselves. I believe humour is a necessary part of every aspect of life if it is appropriate. I need to find my way back to this now.

So there you are . Some of the Thank you’s I needed to say. Some of the sorry’s also. At this time in my life I am realising my mortality. Seeing posts on SM about those who sadly lose their lives to illness of various kinds, but especially PC,throws me back to the fear of losing David. My own manner of dying and of those around me. Morbid? Maybe but happening. I think a cancer diagnosis , apart from the recovery etc. does this to a person. I never used to think about it; death, but do now. I read of strong people okay with their lot. Those who have a great faith, okay with whatever God throws at them. Well, forgive me but I am not.  The ‘F’ word unfortunately is stronger than that in my case. David’s op went well .His post op results were good. Not aggressive and no reason to think it would come back. So no reason to worry. When did I ever need a reason to worry??!! The past years it seems it is all I have ever done. I have searched and searched for the worry button so that I can switch it off as you can most things in this technical world. But to no avail. So worry I will I’m afraid.

Well that’s it for another week. Off now to feed my beloved ponies and walk the dogs. I will work hard on my positivity and try to bring that next time.

Thankyou for reading x