We have all survived something…

For some it becomes their story.

The broken bone on the x-ray.

The tumour on the scan.

The emergency hospital admission.

Then there are the rest of us.

I’ve never broken a bone. Never really had a medical emergency.

But make no mistake.

I’m a survivor.

I survived the embarrassment of wetting my pants

I survived the belief that no one would ever want me

I survived being sacked and retrenched

I survived the mind-fuck and physical abuse of being married to an undiagnosed bi-polar husband

I survived walking under the ‘Adult Psychological Ward’ sign to visit him

I survived the guilt of leaving him

I survived my dad dying way too young

I survived my own feelings of inadequacy

I survived feeling that I needed to rescue everyone except me

I survived having no boundaries

I survived the shame – all of it

I survived the fear of a possible MS diagnosis

I survived to make it to another day on days when I didn’t care if I did or not

I survived the darkness and weight of depression

I survived my own crappy thoughts

And now I’ve survived 12 months full time in my own business

But I want more than just surviving

I want thriving

So I choose to take the stuff that is my survival

And turn it into the gold of ‘thrival’

That’s my alchemy.

That’s my story.

Thrival.