I've been thinking a lot about my childhood today. Maybe it's the build up to Christmas. The shops are full of bright and shiny things, corny old songs are playing in all the supermarkets. The shoppers are weighed down with bags and wrapping paper. It's getting colder outside. It feels like the usual run in to Christmas, and I can't get excited, or motivated to do anything about the festivities yet. I'm in a kind of denial, if I don't think about it, it might all go away.

Lots of memories seemed to hit me today. Memories of childhood paper chains with the sticky glue on the side, coloured and gold stars, chocolate coins, and the smell of mince pies cooking. A lot of my childhood was actually quite happy. Christmases always were. They all seem to blend together, and I can't remember a single bad Christmas from my childhood. I can remember as many happy times from my childhood, as I can unhappy times.

During my therapy, I used to wonder why my therapist seemed to focus only on the bad things, the times when my father was abusive, the times when my mother had hysterical fits in front of all the neighbours, the times when my parents rowed in front of me, the times when I was the family scapegoat, the times when I would sob loudly on my bed, desperate for someone to come in and hug me, and make it all alright, but they never did, the times when I would stand alone in the playground, feeling very different from the other kids, but never crying or letting anyone see I was hurting. My therapist focused on all of these things. I wanted to scream to my therapist that it wasn't always like that. I can remember happy holidays when the sun always seemed to shine. I can remember the family sitting around the fire, talking about memories and laughing. I can remember the affectionate teasing I used to get for being dipsy and scatty. I can remember my cute little dog who came to live with us when I was ten, and then died when I was twenty. I had him for all my teenage years. He understood everything I said to him. I can remember the sense of excitement and anticipation as a teenager as I got dressed to meet my friends. I can remember the music, the smells, the feeling that the world was new, that I had a million tomorrows to look forward to. I can remember my first job, my sense of achievement as I got my first wages. I can remember my first holiday without my family, the flight to Spain, the sunshine, the noise of the crickets at dusk, and the narrow streets with pretty little white washed buildings. I can remember parties that died finally late into the night, with people sleeping and a lone guitarist sitting in the corner. I can remember festivals and camps, and the long conversations with interesting strangers. I can remember the births of my kids, and their sweet baby smell, and the feeling that I wanted to hold and protect these tiny perfect human beings for ever. I can remember watching my son when he was three, sitting on a swing, and singing to the butterfly that fluttered around him. I can remember friends from the past who spoke words of wisdom. I can remember the excitement of moving house, unpacking, and creating beautiful surroundings from chaos on a meagre budget. I can remember the work that went into all of my paintings, and the pride I felt when they were finished. I can remember getting the all clear from a health scare, and really noticing the beauty of this planet, thinking what a privilege it is to be alive. I can remember all the beauty.

The lead up to Christmas this year has left me feeling numb. Perhaps it's because I know that Christmas for a lot of people will be triggering, that it won't be much fun, that they'll be lonely. I want to do something constructive this year, and have a low profile Christmas, and maybe get out and do some voluntary work. I want to help people see that they can find something positive, even in the most negative of circumstances. I want to help people to look for the good in their lives, even if it is only something tiny.

Yes, my life has been painful too. I have been raped. I have been emotionally abused. I have had bereavements and lost a baby. There have been suicides in my family. I have been in a very abusive relationship which completely shattered my confidence and self esteem. I have attempted to take my own life. I have had a very scary breakdown, in which I was diagnosed as having
cyclothmia and HPD. There have been other traumas too, that I don't want to talk about on here, because I really don't want anyone to recognise who I am. I have had to work on these issues, and the therapy was painful,very painful. These traumas left their mark on me, but I don't want to dwell on them, not because I'm in denial, but because I want to find the goodness in life, the beauty of life, the beauty and goodness in other people, and the goodness in myself. This lifetime is the only thing we can be 100% certain of. I like to believe in the spiritual, but if this life is really all there is, then we only get one chance. It's a gift, a beautiful gift, which in itself is spiritual, and we are all here to learn. I want to turn the negative into the positive, and make the most of every single moment, good or bad, and turn it into something that is beautiful. I want to make my mark in this world, in a very small way, and I want other people to realise that they all make their mark too. We all affect those around us. We all have the potential to change the lives of others, and we all have the power within us to change our small corner of the world for the better, and to change ourselves. If we can be open to change, we can grow. That's what I'd like to see this Christmas - growth.