Hello there. What a mindless way to start a post, sorry! Oh gosh now I've apologised again.
Well. I've just got back from Guernsey after going over for my interview in mental health nursing. I think it went well. I came away not thinking I could do anything more - so that has to be good, I hope!
That's not what I want to talk about though, I want to talk about the strange feeling I had in my stomach throughout the whole trip. The feeling I couldn't explain. The feeling that nearly made me cry on the Aurigny flight home. THAT feeling.
Two years ago I was in a bad place, my head was in a terrible state and so were my arms. I met Will and fell in love, in my head it seemed the time to run. So I did. No explanations to my family, no goodbyes... just a little black Fiesta filled with as much of my life as I could manage to get a hold on. For as many years as I could remember I had wanted to get away... to get started with 'life'.
Things were not meant to be that easy though, and as usually happens when one runs away - everything catches up with you. I dropped out of Uni without even noticing I'd been there, to be honest I went off the rails - big time. It's only now I have the joy of hindsight that I can see this.
Eventually though, good old life sent me back to Guernsey... back in search of something, some kind of salvation which I believe I can get in mental health care. I've been there... and perhaps I don't have job experience but I definitely know how I don't like to be treated. I know what needs to be done in mental health care.
So as we drove to my Mother's house I thought about this feeling. I looked out at that gorgeous ocean this afternoon and I saw it. I felt it. I can't understand or explain it, but I know what I was thinking.