real life – Lessons I learned after I turned 30

My blue denim jacket

Have you ever owned an inexpensive item of negligible monetary value that you absolutely love? And you recognise you love it purely because of its sentimental value?

I’m one of the least materialistic people I know. I’d rather spend the little income I make on experiences, travel, time with friends and family, not on things. So I never spend a huge amount of money on clothes or accessories.

I often though associate my modest belongings with precious memories or people and when I lose or break one of these precious to me pieces I grieve. I, of course, understand that it’s just ‘a thing’ and losing it shouldn’t matter, but it does. Because, for me, this ‘thing’ is a memory nugget, reminding me of a special friend, a loved one, an awesome day, a significant period of my life, and I’m terrified I’d forget whatever I associate it with, if I lose one of these memory nuggets.

I’ve lost or broken a few of these memory nuggets over the years, a set of earrings my sister got me, a memory card with photos from the UK and my most recent travels to Sicily, Rhodes and Belgium, a bracelet a dear friend got me, a pair of shoes I wore absolutely everywhere, and most recently, my blue denim jacket.

‘Come on, it’s just a jacket, get another one, the same even’ one might say. But it will never be the same.

I’ve got this jacket in June, 2019. I remember that because it was one of the last purchases I made before I left the UK. And as with the majority of my decisions, I browsed for hours, painstakingly looking for the perfect jacket. Why do I find it so excruciatingly difficult, even choosing a denim jacket? But, when I came across it on the Mango website, I knew that was THE one, at least what I had in mind.

I wore it the last time I’ve hugged goodbye my UK friends in Southampton in July.

I wore it a month later, during my CELTA course, one of the most challenging, painful but rewarding months of my entire life. I wore it during our lessons, I wore it when Jonny hugged me after I told him with tears in my eyes that my grandpa had died the day before and I wore it when I hugged my classmates goodbye.

I wore it on my way back to Cyprus after 11 weird and wonderful years in the UK and on my way to Italy a few months later.

I wore it during my first year teaching at Reggio, an experience I’ll never forget and on my way back to Cyprus after going through the first wave of the global pandemic outbreak in Italy, one of the worst-hit countries.

So today I grieve the loss of my blue denim jacket and with it the friends and places I miss.

Eleni

Funerals are so surreal…

On Wednesday, 31st of July, the first week of my CELTA course, I received that dreaded phone call, my little sister letting me know my grandpa had died. A few days later I had a chat with one of my tutors and he inevitably asked me how I felt. My least favourite question at the time. It was the first time I didn’t cry when I was asked that after grandpa’s death and I just said:

‘I hope my uncle doesn’t die too, if that happens, I’m out. I’m definitely quitting this course. I won’t be able to handle it’.

I immediately changed subject. I couldn’t even imagine it might happen anytime soon. He had just been diagnosed with cancer and was recovering from his operation before starting chemo.

Less than two months later, my sister, my mum and I went to see my uncle Spyros at the hospital. His operation was successful and he had his first chemo, which caused him unbearably painful sores, he couldn’t speak or eat much, but his mind and spirit were still strong. He was even joking. I genuinely thought at that moment that he would definitely recover. He would never give up.

Exactly a week later, his health deteriorated (he unfortunately caught an infection when his immune system was at its lowest) and he was asleep or unconscious most of the time. He could hear though… so my sister and I were to visit.

We didn’t make it. Just before we were to leave for the hospital, I received that dreaded phone call. Uncle Spyros died. Ι burst into tears, devastated. He didn’t want to die, that bloody cancer and chemo killed him.

The kindest, sweetest, funniest, most generous man, always smiling. We all loved him to bits. How is he now gone??

My mind couldn’t comprehend what had just happened. How is that possible? How did we lose both my grandpa and my uncle in less than two ? How can my aunt, who used to live with both, deal with this?

How is it possible that less than a year ago, at Christmas time, we all had a laugh at grandpa’s house and now they are both gone??

Death and funerals are awkward, sad, surreal, especially in the Greek Orthodox religion.

I was asked to write the eulogy a couple of hours before the funeral. Nobody had the strength to do it and I couldn’t not do it. His son Christos, with tears in his eyes shared some beautiful sentences and I did the rest.

I wept and wept writing it so I asked my sister, Stella, to read it, as she rarely cries in front of others but I was going to be right next to her the whole time, in case she breaks.

After a short, half an hour service, it was time for the eulogy.

Stella and I went up. She read the first sentence and then burst into tears. I looked around, his three beloved sons, my aunties, my mum, my cousin, everyone weeping. Flashbacks from the last time I had to read a eulogy, my aunt’s funeral 4 years ago kept coming to my mind.

I needed to do it for my uncle. With tears streaming down my face and with breaking voice I took over and managed to read it until the end.

‘Until we meet again. Rest in peace our beloved Spyro’…

And then the priest said… ‘Δεύτε τελευταίον ασπασμόν’ (‘the last embrace/goodbye’) where for the last time we say goodbye. Probably the worst but also the most necessary part of the service. A final peek at the dead, to help the brain realise their spirit has left their body. (in theory anyway, he just looked he was peacefully asleep). Closure.

I’ve been grieving for my uncle for the last week but because I never said goodbye to my grandpa, I still feel he went somewhere else and he will soon be back. It’s crazy.

After the funeral, probably the most surreal part of a Greek Orthodox funeral took part, the burial. We followed the car carrying him to the cemetery. There the priest read a few prayers and then his sons, my aunt and other relatives said their very last goodbye. He was lowered into the grave and then bread and other random things including a plate the priest broke there and then were also put in the coffin, before we all threw a bit of soil and the graveyard people did the rest. Customs I don’t really know much about.

After the burial, my grandpa’s home where a week before we gathered for grandpa’s 40 day memorial, was bursting with people who came to pay their respects. Bittersweet moments, sharing stories of my uncle, grieving him whilst at the same time celebrating life. A cruel reminder life is too short and we should enjoy and appreciate every minute.

‘Why are all crying, uncle Spyros is just resting and we will all see him soon, when we die? My 7 year old nephew, Angelos, who uncle Spyros adored, asked me with his little eyes full of questions on what he just witnessed.

‘Because we’ll miss him, we don’t know when we’ll see him again.’ I said. It was hard to answer most of the questions he had, I didn’t know the answers either, this was the only one I had a genuine response for.

A lot more happened this week, I’ll tell you soon, but the biggest and saddest was uncle’s Spyros death.

We’ll miss you θειε μου. Until we meet again.

Eleni

Travel tales- When I met Helen, the Fairy Godmother

Saturday morning. A gorgeous, warm, sunny, summery day, one of those I almost forgot I live in this country.

9:50am and I’m on the train. The lack of sleep and a few drinks the night before have taken their toll and I am exhausted but so happy I’m about to spend the day with my best friend exploring Oxford.

The train is packed (glad I decided to reserve a seat). I’m trying and failing miserably to take a selfie so I just put my music on and enjoy the sun lightly burning my skin. I don’t mind. I’ll the take the sunshine any day.

Just after the Winchester stop, a sweet, elder lady gets on the train and sits next to me. White curly short hair, glasses, a floral dress and a huge smile. She seemed so kind and lovely, sometimes I can tell straight away, I got a strong urge to start a conversation, though I was painfully aware that it might backfire, people are not always that friendly at this neck of the woods.

I’m so happy I did. We ended up chatting until she got off the train. It felt so easy and natural, as if we’ve known each other for years. I straight away explained why I was tired, where I was going and why and ended up telling her about my plans and dreams and hopes for the immediate future and she told me about her life (she was heading to her mother in law to look after her for the day and relieve her husband), her travels in America back in the 80s and she reassured me without realising that I’m doing the right thing.

She told me: “Go, travel, see the world. I didn’t meet my husband until I was 36 and had my children in my late thirties. Enjoy life whilst you can.“

Just before she got off, I asked her what her name was.

‘Helen’ she said.

‘Eleni, which is Helen in Greek. So lovely to meet you.’ I replied.

‘Lovely to meet you too dear’, she replied. She wished me the very best for the future and I felt she meant every word. She wasn’t just being polite. She actually meant it.

How often does it happen to meet a stranger you connect straight away, who as a Deus Ex Machina (απο μηχανής Θεός), a fairy Godmother re-assured me I’m actually doing the right thing, leaving my job and taking a leap of faith?

After she left I couldn’t stop thinking how many amazing, incredible humans, everyday heroes like her I’ll meet on my travels.

I’ll always remember Helen as a fairy Godmother who decided to pay me a visit to cheer me on and remind me to always believe that something wonderful is about to happen.

Eleni

Blogmas Day 3: Tea, laughter and cry in Hythe

Monday 3rd of December

Today is all about the latest Touch event last night, this time at Hythe. It was the last one I could attend for this year and I wouldn’t miss it, no matter how tired I was.

I’m glad I didn’t. It’s as if the evening was sprinkled with Christmas magic. You’ll see why…

I didn’t know what to expect after the last one I’ve been in Eastleigh. Every Touch evening I’ve been has been incredible, but that one was very special. And last night was definitely one of my favourite so far.

There were no staff at St Andrews church cafe, so Rachel and I were on tea and coffee duty, which I enjoyed more than I thought I would. If only waitressing paid as well as my current job!

The first speaker was our own Debs who’s been sharing her story of how she founded Touch two years ago (you can read it here) at our events across Hampshire and although I’ve heard it twice so far, last night was different. Debs shared more than she did before, she moved everyone, she made everyone laugh. It was the perfect start.

Next up was Emily* (not real name), who Debs interviewed. And she was incredible. She told us all about her tough childhood, her struggles with depression, alcohol and drug addiction and the muscle disease she’s been living with since she was a teenager.

What I loved most about Emily was her sense of humour and her honesty. She somehow made talking about serious, sensitive, deeply personal matters very easy and natural.

As Emily herself said due to her stubbornness and honesty, her greatest strengths and weaknesses, and the love for her children, she never gave up, despite the physical and mental problems, dealing with unemployment due to her condition and so many other obstacles life threw at her. She learnt that being strong and independent doesn’t mean you shouldn’t ask for help and support, it actually means the opposite.

She is now 7 years clean and every day wakes up knowing there is a reason she is on this earth, there’s a reason she wakes up and she is doing her best with whatever life gives her.

I had the chance to meet Emily after the break, as she came over to ask for another cup of tea and I was in such awe, I didn’t know what to say to her. So I made a complete fool of myself as one does and just said ‘You are so cool’. That’s the only thing I could come up with!

She smiled awkwardly, replied with a thank you and went back to her table. I’m such an idiot!

Next up was Denise* (not real name). Denise had a completely different life to Emily. She had a great life, a great husband, they had their first child as planned, everything was going well and then she suddenly didn’t feel like herself. She was diagnosed with post-natal depression a few months later, after she heard all the ‘advice’ most people give to you when you are struggling with depression.

-‘Cheer up’, ‘Your life is great, there’s nothing to be sad about’

You get the gist. A few years later, with great support from her family and therapist, she managed her depression with no medication. And all of a sudden, after partially losing her hearing on one ear, she was diagnosed with a brain tumour, which to begin with didn’t cause any other problems. Denise worried that her depression will flare up again but she tried her best to forget about her tumour and got on with her life. Until about a year ago, when her tumour grew and became dangerous. So she had to have an 8-hour surgery and re-teach her brain with physio how to use the left side of her body.

She is still to the day dealing with the side effects of her surgery but is feeling much better. She shared her story to say it’s OK not to be OK and it’s OK to talk about it. Another amazing human.

Last but not least was Heather (I’ve used Heather’s real name as she has shared her story in public before). Another astonishing story, another extraordinary human. Heather caught a life-threatening infection after a holiday and woke up in intensive care, fighting for her life. What actually brought her back from coma was her love for her son, Will. With not much support other than few friends and her mother, she moved back home after 6 months in hospital and pushed herself to get better and after a long, painful recovery, she was eager to help others.

A few years later she became a carer of her beloved mother, who suffered from severe back pain, which they later discovered was advanced metastatic cancer. Sadly her mum died of cancer a year ago but Heather is grateful.

Grateful she is alive, grateful of the lovely friends she made during her ordeal, who were there last night to cheer her on, grateful that her friends nominated her for Strictly’s Comic Relief and met her favourite dancers and celebrities.

She has since founded a charity, Where There’s A Will, to support ICU patients and their families.

What a marvellous evening. One of the highlights was a, at first glance serious man, who didn’t say much but by the end of the night he was moved so much he almost cried and thanked everyone and he couldn’t wait for our next event.

‘Anywhere will that be, I’m there, I’ll follow you anywhere’

On our way back, I asked Debs where she finds these amazing people. Debs answer sums it all really, that’s what Touch is all about…

‘I don’t find them, they find me… but it’s easy really, because everyone is amazing in their own way and tonight was a great example. Three completely different but amazing people. Everyone is amazing and everyone has a story and I’m grateful I bring these people together and make them feel comfortable to share their stories.

And people like that man, who was touched by the stories and loved it so much he asked us if we recorded it so he can watch it back as soon as he goes home, makes it all worthwhile’.

That’s what Christmas is all about really isn’t it? It’s all about people, helping each other, inspire one another and that’s what Touch does.

Eleni

Twas the night of superhumans…

It was a crispy cold, dark, Sunday night… Hannah and I arrived at the Point in Eastleigh around 6:30pm to set up for the evening’s Touch event.

Their Christmas decorations were already up and it looked beautiful, cosy, almost magical.

It was unusually quiet, probably because of the weather. It’s tough to find the motivation to get out of the house when you are already snuggled on your sofa on a Sunday but in the end it actually made the evening even more special, you’ll see in a minute.

Debs asked me to host again, it became second nature by now and I’m glad I did because last night’s stories I will always remember vividly. Every storytelling eve is amazing and inspiring, but last night’s? Last night’s was on another level.

First up was Lynda and by the end of her talk, there was not a single dry eye in the house. Lynda talked about how living with borderline personality disorder is for her, the struggles, the ups and downs, how she learned to live with her emotions affected by every day, to others normal events, her fears and phobias, the low lows and dangerous highs that come with borderline personality disorder and whilst doing that dealing with what ever life threw at her, from emotional abuse by her family, her first husband leaving her with her three boys, her second husband becoming aggressive, losing her job…

But every single time she picked up the pieces and tried again and again, for her boys who loves dearly and love her and two of them were there to cheer her on. As soon as she finished her talk her boys came up and hugged her. What a moment.

That’s why it’s so important to share our own experiences when it comes to mental health. The more we share the more others can understand that mental illness is as serious and debilitating as any other illness and the more we understand, the more we can help each other.

I had no idea what to say after this. It’s always incredible when someone shares their stories with others, but to share something so deeply personal, to bare all in front of strangers, it was just amazing. What an amazing woman Lynda is, superwoman.

Next up was Luke, who travelled all the way from Eastbourne to be with us last night. And oh my, what a talk he gave. Luke worked for years as a social care worker, helping people with complex, severe mental illnesses, from a man who would tear his own skin off to a lady that needed attention all the time otherwise she wouldn’t eat or sleep. He loved his job, he loved what he did and thinking back to his childhood and his values, the willow tree of his personal values-what a beautiful metaphor-, it all made sense, it all fit, everything he did could trace back to those values.

But he always struggled with having to follow the rules his role as a social care worker dictated, and he is now starting his own social enterprise helping vulnerable people. Another superhuman.

After a short break it was time for Theresa* (not real name) to share her story. I had a chat with Theresa at the break and I was already excited to hear her talk. We all expected to hear how her adorable canine partner, who was there with her and we all absolutely loved petting, has changed her life. But Theresa shared much more. Whilst working as a teacher with primary school children from neglected families, she decided to adopt two of them but her husband unexpectedly got arrested for fraud.

She had already been ill for a while, as she discovered she had lyme disease, which started affecting her quality of life and her job. So she moved back to her mum’s with the children for a while. Theresa, as the superwoman she is, managed to get back to work, she learned how to parent her little ones who she found out later have not only been neglected but their birth parents had mental health issues and with the help of her wheelchair and her canine friend, she didn’t let her condition affect her independence.

She is now happily married again, she legally adopted her children, she works for a charity and is also chairing a parenting group. Superwoman!

Last but not least was our own Debs, another superhuman who shared her story. Debs shared her personal story of dealing with depression many times since she founded Touch (you can watch her beautiful Southampton Tedx talk here), but last night she talked about her journey from a support worker, charity worker to a successful freelance project manager working in London.

But that wasn’t her, that didn’t put her talents, her social skills and love of talking to people and her creativity to best use. So she quit and took a leap of faith and did what she always wanted to do, help others first hand by starting a social enterprise, Touch where anyone can come and share their own personal story and inspire one another. See, that’s when humans flourish, doing what they love. You just need to get over the scary part of taking the risk and ask. If you won’t ask, you’ll never know.

I’ve heard this story of hers for the first time about a month ago but it still got me. What an amazing human.

Last night felt different than others. It felt extraordinarily inspiring, touching, really just magical.

Maybe it’s because as Theresa said ‘our own stories, makes us who we are, our stories is who we are’ and sharing who we are, talking in front of strangers about who you are, your most inner thoughts, fears, pain and not afraid to be vulnerable is completely different to any other talk.

And with a smaller than expected audience, made it even more intimate and touching.

I have missed many details and this is just a tiny taste of last night’s event, the feeling of being there, in front of these amazing humans can’t be replicated, but I hope you felt a little bit of the magic I felt.

Thank you Hannah, not only for giving me a lift, but for all the amazing work you do for every evening. Another superhuman!

Eleni

An afternoon of songs and stories

I came back from Cyprus on a sunny Friday afternoon. An eventful return, delay after delay, twelve hours on the go with a heavy heart and my mind buzzing, thinking of what I can do to get out of the routine I was about to get back into, already missing the sun and exploring my home island, already missing the sea, the love and the people.

I didn’t get into my little ‘under construction’ home until late at night and Saturday went too fast. But I had something to look forward to on Sunday.

The next Touch event. I’m so lucky to volunteer for such a great charity. Every time I leave inspired, motivated, touched.

This one was even more special. A collaboration between the amazing Love Soul Choir run by Dan, one of my favourite humans and Touch, songs and stories at probably my favourite venue in Southampton, Harbour Lights.

Music, soul’s medicine and real life, every day, inspiring stories. I knew before I got there it would be a great one.

After a short glorious walk on a sunny, unexpectedly warm afternoon I arrived there a bit early to help out. I loved being down at the reception directing guests upstairs. I was more than once mistaken for Harbour Lights staff and I loved directing people to the till, to the screens, to the bar. The little every day surprises I find amusing.

Many familiar faces in the crowd, Bev, Lucy, Svetlana.

2pm and we are about to start. After a short intro Love Soul is up, warming up the audience with their incredible vocals and then Vie, the first speaker, takes the mic.

She is wearing a black coat the other way around, and lets her hair down, covering her face. That’s who she was for the first thirty years of her life. She was told since the tender age of six that she was ‘fat and ugly’ by her own family. She was bullied to believe she would never become anything special. How sad to be made to feel like that by your loved ones.

But after she discovered burlesque dancing her life completely changed. She became a qualified trainer, a motivational speaker, a bright example dressed in pretty 50s vintage clothes with flowers on her gorgeous hair, for young people to follow.

After Vie, Love Soul entertained us with a few more songs before the break and then Andy, our second speaker got up. What a life he and his wife already had despite their young age. Seizures, miscarriage, a devastating brain tumour diagnosis and radiotherapy for his wife… But they never lost hope, they kept going and through their faith and support from their family and friends they made it through and they are both and their two lovely boys well and happy.

Andy writes beautiful poems and he read a couple to us. He even brought copies of his book Uplifted and gave them out for free. This one is the last he read, which sums up his life attitude:

Remedy

There it is, suddenly

Something so much bigger than me

Feeling that significance is my life’s

Parody

Revelation is my remedy

It’s not who I am

It’s who has my destiny

Got no strength; I am weak

Yet the great I AM is the conqueror

Where all I see defeat

No broken promises

Just incomplete

All things to good, I believe

My only hope

My remedy

Love Soul was up next singing two more songs and then it was time for our final speaker Abby.

Another in-cre-di-ble story, another amazing human. Abby was diagnosed with bi-polar disorder when she was 25, after years of minimal sleep, pain, lows and highs. Solent Mind supported her throughout her journey and after becoming a motivational speaker and a mental health advocate she is now running her own project, Heads Up, delivering workshops to young people of all ages in schools, colleges, anywhere there are young people, raising awareness for mental health so she can help others from as early as possible.

What an astonishingly immaculate difference it will make to a person’s life to get diagnosed and get help as soon as they can feel that something is wrong, to know that it is OK not to be OK and not suffer in silence for years.

After Abby’s speech Love Soul closed the event with a final song. What a beautiful ending to an already marvellous afternoon.

I can’t wait for our next event. Still, after five months of volunteering for Touch it surprises me how everyone has a story to tell, how I can relate to all in some way, how many amazing humans are out there and how inspired I get from each one of them. I truly hope that one day we live in a world that accommodates openness and honesty, where feeling vulnerable is not a weakness and everyone feels comfortable to share their story and learn from each other .

Eleni

From a hardworking teenager to a chef to an artist- The story of Andy Jones, a Solent Fine Art Student

I love meeting inspiring humans who love what they do. They talk about it with so much passion and eloquence. I instantly know when that happens. I can see the sparkle in their eyes. And I smile without realising.

What is even rarer is to meet well-rounded people who can talk not only about what they love, but everything and anything else. And Andy is one of them.

A couple of months I received a message on Twitter. Andy, a final year Fine Art Student at Solent came across my blog and wanted to meet and have a chat. He offered to show me around the Fine Art studios and his third year project he was working on.

I love meeting new people-oh if I could do that for a living- and any excuse to visit the beautiful, colourful, creative Below Bar Studios again, I didn’t have to think twice.

We met on a grey Thursday afternoon a couple of weeks ago. And I enjoyed every minute. Andy is honest and open about his life. I miss it, I often find that people here are too polite and don’t say what they think, afraid they may reveal too much. But not Andy.

We sit opposite his impressive piece of work.

We talked about his life, what a life he had. He left Liverpool when he was 17 to get away from family troubles and had to work since. He became a chef, at some point working at the Marco Pierre White restaurant in London, living THE life.

We inevitably end up talking about food, Mediterranean cuisine, he lived in Spain for a while so he really knows the essence of delicious food.

He somehow lost everything later on, and some years and six children later, one day his wife said to him ‘I’ll go back to work, and it’s time for you to chase your dream’.

That’s when he applied to study Fine Art at Solent. He wanted to become an artist since he was a child, but as you’d imagine, there wasn’t much support for a young Liverpudlian lad in the ’80s to become an artist, you ‘can’t make a living out of it’.

We talk about the course. He loves it. He absolutely loves it but he feels there is not much support, recognition or promotion from the University. As a mature student, commuting for hours most days, he expected more for himself and his classmates.

We go through his work and his current project. Imposing, sad but incredibly powerful.

The big hammer, the ‘corporate’, the ‘big powers’ ruining our planet, ruining humanity. All of that painted on plastic canvases. The contrast, the intentional irony.

On one of his paintings, he added a crown on his hammer hitting the Grenfell tower, on which he added a little head. A prime, tragic example of how greediness has destroyed the lives of innocent, every day people. I can see it so very clearly (image below it’s not the one I’ve seen, but it depicts the same scene).

On the top right, I catch a familiar image with the corner of my eye. The traditional blue and white houses you often see on Greek Islands. I smile. It reminds me of the cute little holiday apartment I stayed with my sisters in Protaras, two years ago, the best summer I had in a long time.

He shows me around the studio, it somehow seems bigger than the last time I was there. He talks me through the rest of the students work, some finished, some still in progress. That’s why I love art. I love the creativity, the beauty of the surrealism mixed with cruel reality in more than one occasions and the subjectivity. You may not see what I see, and I may not see what you see. That’s the beauty of it.

I leave the Studio grateful I met Andy and I spent my lunchtime at a gorgeous, creative space, escaping reality even for a little bit.

I can’t wait for their degree show, 26° Below Bar, opening night on the 8th of June. Everyone is welcome. If you want to see Andy’s and the rest of our amazing Fine Art students’ work, come along. I’ll be there.

Eleni

Hanging… and reset

A dirty plate on the dressing table stool, an empty mug on the bedside table…

It’s almost 2pm, Saturday afternoon, I just had some toast and coffee and I’m back in bed.

What a bittersweet but wonderful day Friday was.

Lunch saying goodbye to Charlotte, one of the craziest, funniest, sweet, adorable ladies I’ve ever met (who introduced me to Yoga with Adriene, without a question the best thing that happened to me in 2017), followed by a big group of us at Tapas taking over two of their central tables, chatting, laughing, on a sunny Friday afternoon after work. I missed all of us going for drinks after work… It felt like a reunion, I loved looking around seeing everyone having a good time.

Sad to see friends and colleagues leaving but happy I got to know new people I’ve haven’t had the chance before, and end the evening with a cider and heart to heart conversations with my brother. I miss seeing him every day, having a laugh in the office, walking home together after work…

Today I’m struggling though.

I didn’t drink much but a busy week at work, lack of sleep and not sticking to the same drink last night took its toll on me. I feel exhausted.

I can’t get out of bed, my body aches, my back is killing me. That’s what happens when I don’t do my yoga for a couple of days. My mind and body complain.

And the emotional hangover: at its worst. Scientists still cannot fully explain why anxiety and depression symptoms hit you in the face after drinking, imbalance of chemicals and nutrients in your body apparently. “At the cellular level, your brain is mad, agitated. And you just feel bad.” Susan Scholl, a health and wellness professor once stated. No shitting.

The thoughts were there I guess, the alcohol then decides to bring them up, exaggerate, go crazy and f**k you up.

The weather doesn’t help either. It feels like the longest winter of my time on earth… I miss the sun, the warmth, summer dresses and sandals, the feel of hot sand on my feet whilst running into the crystal clear cool water, red, sunburn face, beers and a cig at the beach at night, I miss summer…

I just got a voice message from Sheba, telling me about her day, chatting about everything and anything as we do every day. I love listening to her messages.

Today she is emotional. I’m emotional.

A lot to think about, a lot to do, but not today. Today I just want to stay in bed and not see anyone. The people I really want to see today and hug and have a laugh with are miles away.

That’s what I did, most of the day. A nice long shower, clean bedsheet and back to bed.

In the afternoon I message Artemis. She is coming to London in May, a mini break with one of my favourite people, at my birthday weekend. So, very excited. It’s been years since we did this. A holiday, just the two of us, wandering in London.

A couple of hours later… the little sister wants to Skype me. It’s almost time. It’s Easter weekend back home. The family is at the midnight Easter Service, they’ve just lit their candles with the Holy Light and the priest is about to sing the The Paschal troparion or Christos anesti, the Easter hymn every single person born and raised in Greece and Cyprus knows by heart. I just remembered, I posted a blog on Greek Orthodox Easter two years ago.

Χριστὸς ἀνέστη ἐκ νεκρῶν,
θανάτῳ θάνατον πατήσας,
καὶ τοῖς ἐν τοῖς μνήμασι,
ζωὴν χαρισάμενος.

Christ is risen from the dead,
Trampling down death by death,
And upon those in the tombs
Bestowing life.

I hum along. I wish them Christos Anesti (Jesus has risen) and we hang up. I’m emotional again. I can’t put in words how much I love them. I was telling Sheba about it on my message earlier. But I know if I start crying in front of them, they will. So I hold it in. For a moment I feel proud of myself for learning to control my feelings.

11pm. I just finished watching the Crown. I’ve learned a lot from this show, although today I didn’t pay attention, it was more of a background noise.

I want this day to end. I know I’ll be OK tomorrow, the emotional hangover will be over. Bedtime. I’ll finish this post tomorrow, I wonder how… I don’t even have a title. Inspiration has abandoned me today.

Sunday

I wake up and go back to sleep, wake up and go back to sleep.

Is my bedroom door open? Terrified. No, it can’t be. Is it? I turn the light on, it’s closed. It was a dream, a really bad dream, I get them a lot lately. Brain overloaded.

9:30am. I’m awake and can’t fall asleep again. I check my phone. Easter messages from friends and my family and a voice message from Shebs. Then my phone rings. Is my star sister, Stella. She usually calls without warning when she had an accident. But today she just wanted to wish me Happy Easter. We have a laugh, I can’t wait to see her in a couple of weeks.

Today I feel better. I’m not as emotional.

I put my Spotify on, Hunny is This What Adults Do, Lauran Hibberd…

I don’t want a stroll on a Sunday and I’m a sucker for unhappy Birthday… But all my darling friends, I don’t feel OK, ’cause they are all having bunnies or babies and I don’t want the same… (or I think that’s what she sings)…

I giggle.

I message Shebs back, I book a hotel for Artemis and myself and after I finish this post, it’s me time. How much I need it I can’t say.

I loved my week off, three amazing days in Bordeaux and a lovely weekend in London. I loved being on the go, packing, unpacking, exploring, wandering, catching up with loved ones.

I find it hard to adjust to ‘normal’ life but I need to. I need to reset, that’s exactly what I’ll do. I need Yoga with Adriene, hours on my guitar, read a book, catch up with friends, write more, I missed writing, I already feel better writing this. What a cathartic, therapeutic experience it is for me.

But I also need adrenaline… make new friends, sing at the top of my lungs, run until I can’t breathe, dance until my feet hurt, try new things…

I think I may have come up with a title…

I’m ready. Whatever this week brings.

Χριστός Ανέστη to all my Cypriot friends and family.

Namaste

Eleni