Evidently, I enjoy a little self-reflection (self-indulgence?). So I thought I would take a moment—with my cup of tea and what may be my last mince pie of the year— to write about the kind of year I've had and the kind of year I want to have in 2o25.
This year has been a lively (if a little chaotic) year for me. It has been, in many ways, a brilliant year. I've done a lot, learnt a lot and experienced a lot.
All on not a lot of sleep.
I've had to roll with the punches, pick myself up and dust myself off more than a few times. More than chaos though, my word of 2024 has been carpe diem. At the start of the year I made an intention at seize each day—to live in the moment, and make bolder choices in my relationships and how I choose to spend my time.
This intention was set in motion by the new relationship I have with time since becoming a mum a little over two years ago. Seeing a little human sprouting up compelled me to not waste any of precious time. It also made me not have any time to waste, even if I wanted to.
writing felt urgent and critical
In 2024, my attitude towards writing mutated into something that felt more urgent and more essential. I wanted, and needed, to write more seriously than ever before.
Part of this was 'you don't know what you've got until it's gone'. Before I had a child, I had expanses of time in which I could write. Naturally, I didn't write in all of my free time. Now I have a child, my time is in snippets. Now I want to write in each and every snippet and, if I don't, it puts me in a bad mood. Grrr.
Now my writing happens in short bursts, my focus has had to sharpen. I managed to write my second book this year, whilst being a mum and working four and a half days a special educational needs teacher. I've had less than thirty full days alone (school holiday days when my daughter was at nursery), plus a few hours here and there, to get the manuscript to a standard where I can send it to my editor. Ninety-five percent of the time I sit down to write, the words come. I think it's because I have to get it done before go and pick my daughter up. Or else it will never get done.
It's not just the limited time that has accelerated my pace though. The enthusiasm with which I come to the page has also intensified. It's as though I need to keep the writer in me alive as the world tells me that I'm now a mum. And mum seems to mean all consuming, all sacrificing, all everything woman. Yes, I'm a mum. But I'm also so many other things.
I need writing as I navigate into this new phase of life as a parent. Writing is a form of thinking for me. It's a huge part of my identity and how I live in this confusing, unsettling world.
It's not just my second book about BPD for Jessica Kingsley Publishers that I've written (ferociously) this year. I've written quite a lot of poetry (especially poems with wild places in them). I've also spent much-needed time with my journals and notebooks— they never judge me for what I want to tell them.
I was hungry to be present
The sense of life as a fleeting experience made me hungrier than ever to be present with my little girl, my husband and the wider constellation of people I love. After having a scary experience which felt close to me losing everything, I want to let all of life pour over me.
I want to turn my eyes into cameras like the game I used to play in my pre-smartphone childhood. I want to be able to recall the beauty of it all, even the messy parts, when I'm very old. I want to remember it all, especially the parts with the people I love.
I am also due to stop breastfeeding my daughter after more than two years in a few days. This has been so special for us and I'm sad to let this go, even though this is the right time.
I couldn't stop thinking about friendship
Friendship has been a huge theme for me this year. I spent hours and hours and hours thinking about friendship. I spent hours and hours and hours talking about friendship. At one point, I even considered finding a therapist so I could talk about friendship more. At another point, it got so serious that I fell down a Google rabbit hole to the MBTI sixteen personality types. All I can say is, oops.*
For months, I reflected on questions such as the importance of friendship, how to know a friendship is mutually desired, how gender influences (or doesn't influence) friendships, how to navigate friendships as an adult and what authenticity means.
I felt confused and uncertain when grappling with these questions. As is characteristic of me, I tried to use my confusion and uncertainty as pathways to a greater understanding of myself and my motivations in life.
I took a carpe diem attitude towards my friendships
I took risks interpersonally. I tried to show my friends how much they mean to me. I tried to show more of myself to people I thought would respect me for who I am. I strived towards even more honesty and even more authenticity. I told more people about my history of mental health problems because it's an important part of who I am and the narrative of my life. I don't always want to feel like I'm hiding.
The more the months of the year went by, the more momentum I gained with this carpe diem attitude. So much so that, by summer, it had maybe become more devil-may-care than carpe diem. I took risks with possible rejection that I usually wouldn't take.
The risk of showing my vulnerabilities felt scary, but the summer sun made me able to face the anxiety of it all. I felt equal parts liberated and terrified. I don't know how it's all going to pan out next year. It's probably going to be a wild ride, but I guess I wouldn't have it any other way. You mostly regret what you don't do and all that...
The Therapeutic Possibilities of Day Trips
In the carpe diem spirit of doing things rather than thinking about doing things I hit the road, well the train. Coffee and something to read in hand, is there anything better than hopping on a train somewhere interesting?! No! I will gladly have more day trips, art galleries and museums in my 2025.
My standout day trip was a nostalgic visit to the city where I went to university. This city feels like it glows in my massive aching heart. I walked about ten kilometres around the places that built me. I burst into tears several times and I remembered how lucky I am to have spend time learning and meeting people here. I felt buoyant. Jubilant, even. Parts of me lit up that haven't illuminated in ages. I felt belonging, and as a person who very rarely feels belonging, this felt amazing. I'm going to go back every year. It felt like a pilgrimage and it also felt like home.
My other favourite day trip was my trip with my mum and my little girl to Hampton Court Palace. We had SO much fun. And having fun is good for the soul.
Gratitude: Not Much Use When It's Silent
My personal philosophy of gratitude stayed strong this year. I continued to thank people whenever I could and show the people who mean a lot to me that they matter to me.
I was very grateful to some health professionals who helped me through some physical issues this year when I had nearly lost hope of feeling better. My physical problems were amongst the most challenging things I faced this year and I am grateful to be pain-free right now. Gentleness, warmth and consistency are all valuable qualities in professionals that are often underrated.
Suffering and pain ensued in our world, including in Palestine which is never far from my thoughts. I tried to count my blessings even more than usual.
'Conditions of enoughness' to get things done
As I mentioned, I somehow managed to (almost) complete the manuscript of my second book and do a first round of edits. There were more than a couple of times when I felt like I'd bitten off more than I could chew, but each time I remembered that nearly all growth happens outside your comfort zone. I was introduced to Jennifer Loudon's 'Conditions of Enoughness' and putting these into practice helped me gentler with myself as a person who wants to do lots of things in short spaces of time.
The same could be said for the last seven years, but this year I was grateful to Sabina Dosani for inspiring me and the generosity with which she shared her intelligent perspectives with me. Sabina is a remarkably talented person and I'm lucky to call her a friend. She helped me think through a few things and gave me some much-needed encouragement during stressful moments.
I Worried less and read more
In the summer, I serendipitously encountered a fragment of ephemera stating the words 'Worry Less Read More'. I took this to heart and used reading to pause the anxious narratives in my head and replace them with stories. When I struggled with not being able to sleep, I read and read and read until my eyes fell shut.
I enjoyed lots of books: Assembly by Natasha Brown, The Silence of Girls by Pat Barker, Mother Ship by Francesa Segal, Femina by Janina Ramirez, Open Water by Caleb Azumah Nelson, Real Life by Brandon Taylor, On Connection by Kae Tempest, C+nto and Othered Poems by Joelle Taylor, The Foreword Book of Poetry 2025, Page Boy by Eliot Page, Bunny by Mona Awad, Nobody Told Me by Hollie McNish, The Offing by Benjamin Myers, Goblinhood: Goblin as a Mode by Jen Calleja and Care Work: Dreaming Disability Justice by Leah Piepzna-Samarasinha and more.
I need more great books next year please.
Letting Myself 'Be Myself'
I said the words 'being myself' more times than I count. Usually I said these to myself: I just want to 'be myself'. I like being with people where I can 'be myself'. What does it mean even to 'be myself'?
This dialogue with myself all started when I was on author and podcaster Chris Young's forthcoming podcast series (watch this space) and he said the word 'authenticity'. I was explaining how I don't routinely hide details of my life from people anymore. I'd forgotten about this word, so was really pleased Chris could bring this word into my life at a time when I needed it.
The etymology of 'authenticity' is apparently from the ancient Greek 'authentes', for “one acting on its own authority' and comprises the words: 'autos' (self) and 'hentes' (doer, being). It seems to express the idea of articulating yourself in your doing and in your being. Doing and being in your own way. I like that. **
I'm still really not sure what I mean by any of 'being myself thing', but maybe 2025 will help me find out.
Jonny Walker's brilliant 'Remaining Human as an Educator' workshop also got me thinking about 'being myself' in relation to my work as a teacher and why the kind of teacher I am is so intimately linked to who I am as a person. Jonny's work also got me thinking about listening and what happens when we do listen, and what happens when we don't.
I want to think more about this next year. I just hope I get more sleep so I can hopefully start to improve my own capacity for listening.
I felt loved
For one reason or another I've sometimes struggled to feel loved even when I am loved. I am sure many people with BPD will relate. That changed this year.
In 2024, my panic attacks were very rare but the one I did have slap bang mid-year hit me like a truck. I was out-of-control and crying on the floor from about 3am to 4.30am. Paranoia kicked in. I was terrified, had some really challenging thoughts about myself and also thought the police were coming to take me away.
This episode was a turning point for me in how I feel in relation to people who tell me (and show me) they love me. I had to face some painful truths, but I had courage to not look away. I'm beyond grateful for the incredible person who is my husband.
It sounds like an exaggeration, but before this episode I think I only felt love from others towards myself half way deep. Now I think I feel it all the way down.
I also had a beautiful moment a few weeks ago when a parcel arrived for me. An unexpected, and exceptionally thoughtful, gift that made me cry (in a good way!). It means a lot that people care.
Asking questions and getting answers
I was searching for answers this year with absolutely no idea whether looking would be fruitless. I was pleasantly surprised when answers landed in my inbox.
I've had to embrace the fact that answers tend to lead to more questions— some of which might be unanswerable. I can't write more than that here, but hope to be able to share more in the future.
My husband and I also had to ask some really complex questions this year about what we want in life and how to move towards this. I'm excited, and anxious, to see how 2025 is going to unfold and will need to embrace uncertainty.
Clarity: my word for 2025
If carpe diem was my word for 2024, then I think clarity is my word for 2025. I want to define, and refine, what I do and how I live. I know there are threads that run through my life, things that fascinate me, but I don't have enough clarity on what connects them.
I want to find out what it is exactly that puts (the good kind) of shivers down my spine. I want to know this so I can be more fully myself and live my life even more fully. If my eyes aren't bigger than my mouth, I'm also hungry for more of what 2024 brought me.
Before I go, I want to say a huge thank you to all my blog and book readers. As ever, it astonishes me and humbles me how many of you keep turning up here to read my thoughts. I hope this blog, my books, and everything else I put out into the world, can help you feel more connected and helps you see the strengths you bring.
It's not easy living with intense emotions and a diagnosis that is not always understood or treated with empathy. I see you and I hope 2024 is a wonderful year for you that brings you the respect, warmth, understanding and support you deserve.
Rosie x
*My so-called type is INFJ by the way if you're interested.
**Not that this was always easy. Sometimes it came with a side-order of feeling out-of-my-depth and as vulnerable as little prawn crawling around the seabed.
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