Someone once said that it's not that I'm crazy or mad or intentionally depressed, its just that I got dealt a bad hand of cards when they were being handed out to everyone at birth.
I do agree with this on some level, because for so many years of my life when I was in my darkest depressions, it was just tragedy after tragedy and problem after problem.
All I could think was "why me?", had I done something so bad in a past life or even in my current life without realising it.
I just couldn't understand. My Dad was the same, I remember him breaking down on a number of occasions and loudly expressing the idea that we were cursed as a family and he didn't understand why all these bad things just kept on happening to us.
At that point however, things were bad, and we had suffered some mind boggling soul destroying situations but not as bad as after the point when my Dad could no longer express those feelings or any words of sentiment for that matter, due to the paralysis and brain damaging stroke he suffered.
From my perspective thats when our bad luck as a family really stepped up a notch.
I do agree with this on some level, because for so many years of my life when I was in my darkest depressions, it was just tragedy after tragedy and problem after problem.
All I could think was "why me?", had I done something so bad in a past life or even in my current life without realising it.
I just couldn't understand. My Dad was the same, I remember him breaking down on a number of occasions and loudly expressing the idea that we were cursed as a family and he didn't understand why all these bad things just kept on happening to us.
At that point however, things were bad, and we had suffered some mind boggling soul destroying situations but not as bad as after the point when my Dad could no longer express those feelings or any words of sentiment for that matter, due to the paralysis and brain damaging stroke he suffered.
From my perspective thats when our bad luck as a family really stepped up a notch.
However as I've previously said, in high insight I feel that in order to experience the amazing stuff of dreams that life has to offer us, first you must prove you are worthy by experiencing the complete opposite on the scale of unfortunately circumstances.
I've truely come to believe that I personally would not have had such awe inspiring adventures and seen the wonderful things that I have in life had it not been for the heart wrenching moments that I had been dealt.
I've truely come to believe that I personally would not have had such awe inspiring adventures and seen the wonderful things that I have in life had it not been for the heart wrenching moments that I had been dealt.
I can't say for sure if I believe this because I had taught myself to be grateful for the positive things and appreciate them as I do as a sort of coping method, or if that belief has somewhere along the line inspired these thought processes within me.
Nor can I say that the same is true of others that have too, gone through such unfortunate experiences within their life.
However I do think that having this positive outlook on life does get me through sad times in my life even if I'm not necessarily thinking and believing this theory at the time. Not only does it make you feel very lucky when things do eventually go your way, but also I believe it makes you more grateful for everything you have, by instilling a sense of acknowledgement of what you have achieved against the odds one has faced.
Nor can I say that the same is true of others that have too, gone through such unfortunate experiences within their life.
However I do think that having this positive outlook on life does get me through sad times in my life even if I'm not necessarily thinking and believing this theory at the time. Not only does it make you feel very lucky when things do eventually go your way, but also I believe it makes you more grateful for everything you have, by instilling a sense of acknowledgement of what you have achieved against the odds one has faced.
I can't say that I believe in a religion or a God type figure, for the reason that bad things happen to good people and it seems that bad things don't happen to bad people and sometimes without any reason at all.
There are two particular situations that have made me reach this conclusion.
The first one was the story of my Aunty Katie, who was born with severe learning difficulties that meant that even at the age of 30 she was still child-like and living at home with my Nana who cared for her. She was such a loving person, and had not one bad bone in her body. At the age of 36 she was diagnosed with Bowel Cancer and for the next year she suffered a long drawn out death in which the cancer spread across her whole body until she resembled a skeletal type figure completely unaware, with no understanding of what was happening to her.
How can someone like this deserve to die in such a horrendous way?
Some may say that it was just her time to go... but if that were true then why could she not be granted a quick and painless death where she didn't have to suffer? A harrowing end for which my Nana, Grandad and the others so close by had to watch and deal with themselves too.
The second situation that forecast my inevitable doubt in God was that of my beloved Dad's outcome in life.
A completely selfless man, who had a normal and loving family upbringing, worked very hard, met my Mum at the age of about 30 years old and settled down while raising his business (a Recording and rehearsal studio) from the ground based on his love and experience of music.
The business was never successful or without drama and difficulties but he worked every hour possible to make it work and provide enough to live from.
After being together for about 5 years, my parents decided to have me, then get married and following on from this my sister was born.
A completely selfless man, who had a normal and loving family upbringing, worked very hard, met my Mum at the age of about 30 years old and settled down while raising his business (a Recording and rehearsal studio) from the ground based on his love and experience of music.
The business was never successful or without drama and difficulties but he worked every hour possible to make it work and provide enough to live from.
After being together for about 5 years, my parents decided to have me, then get married and following on from this my sister was born.
Although many people may say this about their parents or loved ones, but I truely believe my Dad was like no other man.
He would work 12 hour days or nights coming home in the early hours of the morning exhausted and smelling of a familiar fragrance of passive stale cigarette smoke and beer (which I came to find great comfort in), he never socialised with any friends except for one friend, Jackie, a long life friend of the family who had a daughter with her partner around my age and we'd all meet up on rare occasions when Dad could get cover at work.
He was the best Dad! On school holidays, without fail he would arrange cover at work and take us down to my favourite place; Nana and Grandad's house in Eastbourne where we'd have the best time with him.
He would work 12 hour days or nights coming home in the early hours of the morning exhausted and smelling of a familiar fragrance of passive stale cigarette smoke and beer (which I came to find great comfort in), he never socialised with any friends except for one friend, Jackie, a long life friend of the family who had a daughter with her partner around my age and we'd all meet up on rare occasions when Dad could get cover at work.
He was the best Dad! On school holidays, without fail he would arrange cover at work and take us down to my favourite place; Nana and Grandad's house in Eastbourne where we'd have the best time with him.
He lived for me and my sister. He was a vegetarian who didn't smoke or drink excessively (just the occasional beer as a treat at home) and supported our family tirelessly so we didn't go without the necessities in life until my Mum started training as a teacher and could bring in an extra income to the household when we were a lot older.
My Dad was constantly under pressure at work with trying to keep the business surviving and I don't think there was ever a time he could just relax and not worry about anything.
So why after such a dedicated life to his children, wife and parents did he he have to suffer a monumentally destructive stroke in 2004. Not only was it completely out of the blue, but not only did he have to be hit with this awful thing but then to be tortured by it until now and ongoing is beyond anything I can possibly fathom.
At first it was what the doctors described as a mini-stroke; at the time, I had no knowledge of what a stroke even was let alone a 'mini-one'.
So after being hospitalised, 4 days in, the doctors found a mobile clot that needed to be operated on immediately, so he was rushed to a special hospital; The Heart hospital in Central London. But before the doctors there could even finish checking him in came a moment that I will never forget as it was the last time I ever saw my Dad as he was.
So after being hospitalised, 4 days in, the doctors found a mobile clot that needed to be operated on immediately, so he was rushed to a special hospital; The Heart hospital in Central London. But before the doctors there could even finish checking him in came a moment that I will never forget as it was the last time I ever saw my Dad as he was.
The 'mobile clot' had apparently shot straight up into his brain and whilst talking to the doctor his speech began to slur and the side of his face dropped, I began screaming at the doctor "its happening now, help him!"
My sister and I were quickly rushed into the family room and my Mum came in later and instructed us to be taken home by my then long-term boyfriend Daniel, who quickly came to our aid and brought us back to mine. That night, there was no chance of me sleeping so I drove up to the hospital in the early hours of the morning and just sat with my Mum who was being comforted by my Grandad and his wife Jean through the terrifying life-threatning operation that my Dad was undergoing to remove the clot from his brain.
My sister and I were quickly rushed into the family room and my Mum came in later and instructed us to be taken home by my then long-term boyfriend Daniel, who quickly came to our aid and brought us back to mine. That night, there was no chance of me sleeping so I drove up to the hospital in the early hours of the morning and just sat with my Mum who was being comforted by my Grandad and his wife Jean through the terrifying life-threatning operation that my Dad was undergoing to remove the clot from his brain.
Looking back there are so many times that selflessly I wish he had never emerged from that operation to suffer the events that followed. However, he did make it, and it was deemed a successful operation as the clot had been removed, however he was then in a coma for which the doctors were unsure if he would survive.
Everyday was a new challenge, in an uncertain roller-coaster of life and death where we would remain by his bedside and pray he would recover to be my Daddy again. The painful times of this chapter of his illness consisted of noting down strange new things like a movement in his toe or an eye twitch, each one giving hope and comfort that he was still in there somewhere.
The worst was when he went through a phase in which he would stop breathing for what seemed a life time, it could be for as long as a minute and a half where you heart felt as though it was literally in your mouth waiting to see if the next breath would come. It came and we would then cease the counting process until the next time it occurred.
The days in which the doctors would tell my Mum that he wouldn't make it through the night were unbearable, but he was a fighter, and even though I had on a few occasions when we were alone together whispered in his ear "its fine Dad, just go, we'll be fine, I promise, you don't have to hold on any longer", it killed me to say those words but I couldn't bare to see him so incapacitated.
The nurses and Doctors were absolutely amazing, they would comfort us and even once let me inject my Dad his medicine through the tube he had inserted into his belly. It was strange but that was as close as you could get to helping him at that stage.
The feeling of being so helpless, when all I could do was silly things like play music that we enjoyed together through the headphones of a CD player, placing one in his ear and one in mine, so we could listen to songs by Macy Gray and Bob Dylan together as we had done so many times in the past without realising how much of a special thing it was to be able to appreciate something so simple together.
The feeling of being so helpless, when all I could do was silly things like play music that we enjoyed together through the headphones of a CD player, placing one in his ear and one in mine, so we could listen to songs by Macy Gray and Bob Dylan together as we had done so many times in the past without realising how much of a special thing it was to be able to appreciate something so simple together.
The way I speak of my Dad, it is though he is no longer living, but he is, and as I write this he is sitting in his specially adapted care home probably watching Deal or no deal in his wheelchair. But to me, however harsh it sounds, my Dad died on that shocking night in June 2004.
Never would I be able to have a two way conversation with my Dad again, never will I be able to ask him all the questions I so much long for an answer to, never again will I be able to ask my Dad to come and help me fix something in my house or ask advise on trivial things like my Car or general happenings in my life.
All I can do is make the best of what I have with him and remember how much of an amazingly caring and loving Dad he was to me and be thankful for the time we shared together.
Never would I be able to have a two way conversation with my Dad again, never will I be able to ask him all the questions I so much long for an answer to, never again will I be able to ask my Dad to come and help me fix something in my house or ask advise on trivial things like my Car or general happenings in my life.
All I can do is make the best of what I have with him and remember how much of an amazingly caring and loving Dad he was to me and be thankful for the time we shared together.
So, in response to my earlier statement- Why?
Why did this happen to my Dad when all he did was give to others. Ok, he wasn't a charity giving saint of the world, but he did everything in his power to be a good person to the people around him.
Why did this happen to my Dad when all he did was give to others. Ok, he wasn't a charity giving saint of the world, but he did everything in his power to be a good person to the people around him.
Those two stories are the basis for my non-belief in God, and the situations where my belief in Fate is slightly tainted.
