Time

My three year old girl starts pre-school tomorrow. I can’t really get my head around it. I feel too young to have a child in school. I feel too young to be doing the school run and attending parents evenings and signing permission slips and goodness knows what else. I’m only 21. I feel so young. But at the same time, I feel so old. Where has my childhood gone? My youth? The days where I can be immature and reckless? Now I’m a married mother of two and my eldest is starting full time education. It doesn’t seem real somehow. I don’t know if it ever will seem real, or if I’ll just trundle through life unaware of time’s passage.

I guess living with anxiety and depression means I have to live each day as it comes, enduring one day at a time, because that’s all I can manage. So when landmarks and special occasions creep up on me I’m shocked. I can’t understand how time has passed me by without my acknowledging it. The future scares me so I don’t think about it too much, and then before I know it it’s here, within touching distance, ready and waiting to disrupt my sense of security in familiarity and replace it with change, with new routines and requirements.

I don’t know how to deal with it all. I guess I’ll just take it as it comes. My girl starts school tomorrow, but tomorrow isn’t here yet. So for now, I’ll try and enjoy today.

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