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So I woke up and I thought "that's enough".
I have been so sad I nearly died of it. And it was so tough I wished I had. And it is still really, really hard, a lot of the time.
But I am divorced now, in a new house, with a place in France. I need to get on with the rest of my life and take advantage of all the changes I've had to make by carrying on and making some more.
And I thought about starting a new blog, but then I figured I'm still me, and it's all part of the same journey. I summarised the most recent rollercoaster ride in the previous post.
I'll just keep pedalling.
I got divorced. It was a slog. As ever, I did all the work. At the moment I still run the business with the Ex.
I got a new house. It's a semi on a new estate, amongst dozens of other identical houses. Everything is made of plastic. I don't care - I like it. It's mine. And I bought the place in France and I am doing it up, and it feels like a good idea sometimes and a terrifyingly over-ambitious prospect sometimes.
Thing 1 got a place at one of the best dance colleges in the world, which kind of made the million miles of mum-taxi feel like it might have been worth it. Then she got into drugs and nearly died of a ketamine overdose and is now dropping out or maybe repeating the first year.
Thing 2 got into drugs, failed her AS levels and dropped out of college. She went to stay with Thing 1 at uni, got drugged and sexually assaulted and was in hospital for 5 days. Now she goes to college instead and seems to be doing ok for the time being.
This was a year in which I did not diet into size 10 jeans, learn to tango or publish a poetry collection. However I survived it.
