brother home

On Wednesday 23rd September, my brother Liam returned home from being in Leicester Royal Infirmary after 7 weeks and 1 day. I can't describe how happy I am about this. I know that this will be a huge boost for Liam by being home and around our family and pets.

It would seem I am still not ready to contemplate my true feelings about what happened and time afterwards. I want to but I just don't have the strength to at the moment. I need to because I'm worried I haven't dealt with it.

At this moment in time I'm watching Wounded. Luckily Liam's injuries were no where near as bad as some of the guys' on the program but a lot of them go straight into Intensive Care and that is why I am forcing myself to watch it. I liked the Intensive Care Unit for how good they were with Liam but I hated it as well. The smell, the noises, the atmosphere of worry. Watching Wounded and seeing mothers, girlfriends, brothers, sisters, family around a bedside upsets me because it reminds me of when it was me, holding my brothers hand, stroking his arm and telling him how much I loved him and how he couldn't leave me because I need him to look after me.

Just writing the latter part of that sentence has made me start crying. I really am not ready to talk about my feelings. I don't know when I will be but I know when I am it will be hard but important for me to do it.

'Brother and Sister, together we'll make it through...''

promises to myself

I make myself several promises every few months and never actually fufill any of them. The current main ones are: start jogging a few miles everyday, take up some hobbies, stop pretending I have writers block and actually start writing again, join the debating society, go to lacrosse training more, have an active part in either Hullfire or JamRadio and sort out work experience for next summer. I am no closer to completing any of them. The worst thing is I really do want to do most of these things, I just have no motivation.

Will I always be such a failure to myself?