I've been looking at photos from the past and trying to remember where I was in them.
The easy days I suppose, when you didn't think very much was significant.
I enjoy seeing how so many people look the same, I seem to always look the same, my face a little less round and my belly a little bit more round.
And a few minutes ago I saw a message on Twitter and it was a sign from a man on a ventilator - he'd written 'I'm not giving up' and I cried. I know that feeling and I know what it looks like to see it on someone you loves face. I also remember the time in that hospital bed when I told my mum I was giving in, I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't try and more. I closed my eyes and told the universe I was done. My eyes were already closed and I thought that maybe that would mean the horror of what I was feeling might go away. It didn't and I endured. I kept feeling and I was saved.
I've wanted to give up so many times in my life, you're not human if you haven't. I am happy to give up in a Frisbee game and when I know my Yorkshire puddings have failed spectacularly. I've given up on thinking someone will love me, I've given up on people who have hurt me too much, although not often. I'm not giving up on much else. I almost gave up on teaching, I nearly left that but I'm so pleased and grateful I didn't.
So I'm not giving up on the idea that this school will survive this, that we will survive this. I'm not giving up on hope and life and I'll hold onto the knowledge that I am strong and so are those I love.
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