No Man, Woman or Mutant Is An Island

On Sunday I was subjected to the cruel actions of a so called friend who has done little more than leech from me physically, emotionally and financially for the past 8 years. The situation is difficult and complex sadly, but that is beside the point. Because amidst my hurt and  anger I saw true friendship and support in action too - from people I have never even met. This got me thinking about friendship in general and made me realise just how much I'd lacked, missed and needed it.

 

As a young child I made friends easily, having a large group of pals, mainly boys as I was quite the tomboy, that I spent time with. Sadly as I progressed into senior (high) school away from many of my friends, it was a different story. It doesn't pay to be different in school and I most certainly was. Much smaller and younger looking than my peers, I felt very vulnerable, especially as I was going through the trauma of a seriously ill parent and coping with what we realise now were the beginnings of my own health problems too. Plus I was far more interested in doing calculus than calculating who I'd done, if you follow my drift. All in all it's safe to say the latter years of my schooling weren't exactly fun or filled with lasting friendships...

 

Thankfully though I had my saving grace, my horses. And if I'm honest the more time I spent with humans over the coming years the more I grew to love my equine friends! I seem to be a magnet for people who take advantage of my kindness and generosity, using me, bleeding me dry then tossing me aside when I'm no longer useful.

 

There was the stable girl from a well to do family who regularly 'forgot' her riding lesson payments, bus fare and food yet never once paid me back. The hotshot business woman so needy she'd spend hours on the phone complaining about the life she'd chosen for herself in London, her high paid job and even her family but who hung up on me the one time I tried confiding in her. Then we have the Aussie who used me to get a cheap tour of England, landing on my family for a month despite knowing we'd just buried my grandfather, my Dad was ill and I was in the middle of being diagnosed. Regardless of our obvious struggles, she still expected us to ferry her all over the UK. She broke half the house and ate us out of the other half....yet still insisted she'd come over to 'help us'.

 

And that's before I even get to the real nut job. Shortly after I was diagnosed I joined an online support group for people with similar types of conditions, just to try and feel less alone. Sadly whilst I did get support from most members, I also attracted the attention of a young Canadian women who proceeded to 'medically stalk' me. She would take details of issues I was having and had confided to the group about then use them to convince her doctors to give her drugs, appointments and tests galore. A genuine Munchhausen Syndrome using my medical history to gain her prize all whilst I was fighting being wrongly labelled a hypochondriac.

 

Her merciless, emotionally exhausting campaign drove me very close to a nervous break down. As a result I withdrew into myself, becoming very insular and isolated, not allowing myself to trust anyone after being hurt and used so much.  I hated being like that as I'd always been such a trusting, open hearted person, treating people as I'd hope they would treat me too. I hated that the selfish, cruel actions of a few people had changed my entire outlook and attitude to everyone.

 

Yet as the title of this blog suggests, no man is an island and I slowly learnt that I couldn't keep hiding away or coping alone. I was very reluctant to join Twitter at first, vowing I wouldn't leave myself open to be abused again. Yet I became strangely drawn to it, a little voice inside telling me 'Go on, you know you want to'. I missed talking to people who shared my passions in life. I missed contact with people outside of my family and tiny inner sanctum of trusted confidants.  

 

I guess if I'm honest I actually have my old motor-racing friend, Dan Wheldon to thank for me joining Twitter. It was my need to reach out to others feeling his loss that made me take that leap of faith. Being able to take strength from his amazing sister Holly, share the sorrow, shock and pain of his death but also remember the good times helped me grieve for a still much missed friend.

 

Yet in grieving one old friends loss I unwittingly opened up my world, my eyes and my heart to a whole host of new friends too. I've 'met' people from all over the globe who share my eclectic passions from horses to motorsport via music and wildlife. From my wonderful Twitter Sisters who encourage and support me in my goal to get back in the saddle, to my fabulous Glitter Pants crew whom I often spend all night talking IndyCar with! The various wlidlife groups that share my joy in nature, the talented musicians who enrich my life and the hugely inspiring KartForce guys desperate to get me back in a kart. Taking the plunge into Twitter has given me access to some amazing people in all walks of life, all over the world and reminded me what it's like to just be accepted, embraced and loved for who you are - not what you do, who you know or what you can give.

 

That fact was truly brought home to me on Sunday with the overwhelming and incredibly humbling response I received to a casual remark about the actions of a 'friend'. Your protective, angered yet supportive reactions made me feel whole, loved and worth more than this. A feeling I haven't had for a very long time, for many different reasons I may explain more about one day.

 

So this blog post is dedicated to you, my friends. To thank you for your support, your encouragement, your time, your acceptance, your understanding and above all else your friendship. Because you have truly shown me what that means. It's not about how many times we've met or even spoken on the phone, heck I don't even know where most of you live...and I don't need to. All I need to know is that you're there for me and that you know I'm there for you. That is what friendship is - unconditional, constant and a two way path.

 

A friend said recently, 'Twitter friends are the nicest people you'll never meet' and while I agree completely, I very much hope I can change that with at least some of you some day. But until we do meet, please know that I value your friendships deeply and I will always be here for you too.

 

Just please don't ever come and eat everything in my fridge in one sitting!

 

Johanna x

Fear Must Never Win

I have absolutely no intention of ever making this blog political or even overly topical. But like any sane, rational, feeling human being I am deeply shocked, sickened and saddened by the horrendous events at the end of the Boston Marathon on Monday. My heart, thoughts and prayers continue to go out to everyone involved and affected by this dreadful atrocity.

It is simply impossible to comprehend why anyone would do such horrendous things. What goes on in the mind of someone to make them think killing and maiming innocent spectators at a race is the right way to approach their perceived problems or grievances? We can barely come to terms with such evil let alone understand it.

Yet in the midst of such tragedy and loss we must not let our anger and fear blind us, or more importantly, change us. Despite how it may feel right now, this is not a cruel, evil world we live in. It's a beautiful world with beautiful people that is merely tarnished by the ugliness of a few. This is a world where one sick twisted mind can plant bombs to kill innocent people but also where hundreds of selfless, caring souls will run towards danger to help others.

We must remember that the ugliness in the world is outnumbered by the beauty and kindness. And it will continue to do so as long as we refuse to give that ugliness room to grow. As difficult as it is anger must not fester in our own hearts and we must not let fear control or change us, for then we give those who aim to terrorise us the very power and control they crave. The moment we are paralysed by fear and change the way we live, we have let terror win.

On September 11th 2001, I was sat waiting to visit my local library and excitedly looking forward to my longed for trip to Australia the following month. To pass the time I flicked on the TV and saw a skyscraper with smoke billowing from it's sides. Assuming it was an afternoon disaster movie I flicked over to the next channel, only to be met with the very same image. Confused and disorientated I noticed and read the news feeds scrolling across the screen and the horrendous realisation that this wasn't a movie felt like a violent kick to the chest. Sinking to my knees and shaking, I joined the rest of the world watching in horror as the unthinkable unfolded before our eyes.

Amidst the shock, grief and worry, over the coming weeks I faced difficult decisions regarding the holiday I'd been day dreaming about that very afternoon. The issue of Could I and Should I still travel weighing heavily on an already laden down heart. Could I find the courage to board that plane barely three weeks after 9/11? And more importantly in my mind, Should I even contemplate going, in the light of such tragedy and sorrow? Would it be disrespectful to focus on my own need for a holiday after so many people had died?

It took an awful lot of soul searching before I found my answers, but I slowly realised that I actually owed it to those people to get on that flight, to follow my heart and do what they couldn't any longer - live. Climbing on to that plane was far from easy to do, but as I sat there thinking of each lost life I knew I'd done the right thing. This was my tribute to them, my way of honouring them and my way of sticking a big proverbial finger up to terrorism by showing I won't be governed or crippled by fear.

Four years later I sat in front of my TV once again, this time watching in horror as my own capital city was ripped apart by yet more devastating, cowardly acts of terrorism. Joining far too many in the soul achingly desperate task of finding if loved ones are safe. The strange mixture of relief and guilt on hearing their voices, knowing so many people never got that longed for call. The stomach churning  realisation that a matter of moments before the blasts someone you love deeply was walking through tube stations that were now merely piles of rubble. That a matter of minutes had been the difference between life and death.

The terror wrought on London that day was meant to cripple us with fear, but yet again love and courage were stronger. The stories of sheer strength, bravery and heroism by people from every walk of life now stand head and shoulders above the names, faces and memories of the cowards who did this. My own love and need to be with the people I care about hugely over- rode any fear I felt as I travelled down to be with them days later. Now 8 years on I actually visit London and even use the tube far more than I did before 7/7. Because instead of dividing us the fear has united us and that is the only way we can fight this - united in the courage to continue.

We hear about the war on terror on a regular basis and it often feels so distant, so removed from us. Yet everyday we can play a vital role in that battle too, by not giving in to terror. By not allowing ourselves to be dictated to or manipulated by fear, by showing that far from dividing us, horrendous events like Boston actually unite us. By showing that the very worst actions of human nature can bring out the very best in humanity.

We owe it to the people who have lost their lives doing what they loved, or just going about their daily lives, to keep living and loving our precious lives to the fullest - overcoming fear and outnumbering the ugliness. Indeed we owe that much to ourselves.

Courage is never to let your actions be influenced by your fears. ~ Arthur Koestler