Dream, believe, manifest and live your best life.

There is so much about my world that even the closest people in my life know nothing about. Life happens, it carries on, things happen, they get forgotten about over time. The person who has lived these experiences lives with them embedded within forever. They relive the intricate details of those days and nights over and over. It doesn’t matter that as an adult you have worked so hard to make sense of it all, you’ve put in all the inner work. You may even feel like you have fully healed and moved on from the life you once led. You will still relive it, not because of the adult you are now but more for the child you once were. I often do this. I see children around me, growing up. I see Pranay and I think about the child I once was. I cannot even begin to imagine Pranay being in some of the scenarios I was in at his age. I protect him fiercely, some may even judge me for it. But honestly, no one really knows what’s best for my boy more than Yashin and I.

The best part about other people’s judgments? Let me tell you, they don’t matter. The life you’re living, it is all yours. To live in the best way you can. It is for you to bring your children up in a way that feels right for you, your partner and of course what is right for your children. Nothing else matters. I am speaking in this context because that is what I know in my world, but let’s be honest it applies to everyone. You don’t need to have a partner or children. Your life is yours no matter what and your timeline is yours too. Some of us are so hung up on what people will think. I know I was for far too long. Keeping everyone else happy is not as important as keeping your own little world happy. I’m here to tell you that people’s opinions are theirs and your life is yours. Live it fully, with purpose. As my beautiful boy would say “be kind, be cool, be you!”

Story time. There was a time, I was probably Pranay’s age. I was alone with my mum in her house in Leicester. She was unwell on this particular day. She cried her heart out in her depressed state. She screamed at the voices in her head. I was scared. Terrified. I didn’t know what to do. And so I did what I knew best. I held her tight, I told her everything would be okay. I really wasn’t sure if it would be. Yet I wiped away her tears and said the words anyway. Internally I crumbled. I could feel myself shaking with the fear. I held myself together so that my mum wouldn’t know how scared I was. What was happening to her? I was 8, maybe 9 years old. Thinking back now I don’t think she had the capacity in that moment to have noticed how I was feeling anyway. It wasn’t her fault. I cannot emphasize it enough. She did her best for me with what she had to give me at the time. Both physically and mentally. She gave me her all, emotionally and materially. The same goes for my dad. They have both been the parents I needed them to be, to get me to my now and I will forever be truly grateful to them both for that. They shaped me into the person who is able to type out these words today. It is because of them, my step mum; Harsha, Baa and the two families that I went on the journey I did that eventually brought Yashin into my world. Each clog fitting into the next to complete that circuit. It is because of them all that I am now the mother Pranay and Bailey adore as much as they do and cannot be without.

That night, filled with tears and confusion passed. My mum’s episodes were different back then. I feel that she had somewhat more control. I could be wrong. It was like she cried and screamed through the night but somehow settled down again at some point. She made me breakfast and smiled at me, maybe it was the medication she was taking, maybe it was something else. I’ll never know for sure but it was definitely different back then. My dad picked me up the next day and asked me how the night had gone with my mum. I lied to him. I told him everything was fine. I had a really good time with her I had said. I didn’t want to get her into trouble. I didn’t understand what I was meant to say. I knew lying was bad but I also knew that when my mum behaved in a certain way people reacted in a certain way. In a way that I did not understand. I told myself I wasn’t telling a bad lie. It was just what I needed to do to protect my mum and to also protect my dad in some way. I was 8, maybe 9 years old.

We drove back to London, listening to old Indian songs. My dad sang to me and danced as he drove the car. He always did his best to be silly, to be funny, to make me roll my eyes at him and to make me laugh.

This went on for years. He would pick me up, I would lie to him about how my mum was. It wasn’t always bad but I rarely told him the truth about how she was doing unless she was actually doing quite well, in which case I didn’t need to lie. Eventually I learnt all the words to all the songs we listened to. As I grew older I started to really understand the lyrics to these songs. I started to daydream about falling in love with this perfect man who understood all these deep emotions I held so close to my heart. I was obviously much older by this point. It became my place of escape. This beautiful world that existed only in my head. A world filled with only happiness. This is where my love for music and books came from, it became my way to escape. I loved to read and to lose myself in a good book. My imagination would take me to all these wonderful, blissful places. Especially on the days when the reality really wasn’t very pleasant.

Over time my dad’s favourite songs quickly became my favourite songs! New Indian films would be released and dad would buy the cassettes to go with them, then CDs as time evolved and eventually we had USB sticks filled with all our favourite Bollywood songs and devotional bhajans. This is why I will always be an old Indian dad at heart!

The more we sang about love and the more I understood these beautiful lyrics, the more my love grew from deep down within. I longed for this love that understood me. I could feel these words with my whole being. As time went on my mum’s health deteriorated. The episodes got that little bit worse every year. We had years of darkness. So many unfathomable things happened during this time. Of course I ended up telling dad all about it at some stage. I had no choice. She needed me more. I needed him more. He supported me in a way that only a loving Dad torn between two worlds could. He did his absolute best.

I lived two lives. One in my mum’s world and one in my dad’s. My safe haven at the time was Baa in many ways. In the early years Baa and Dad were my stability, my world. Sometimes I looked forward to Leicester trips and other times I did not want to go. Mum and Nannima would spoil me and they lived for the weekends I visited them. I loved them too but I never felt quite at home. There came a time where I wasn’t truly happy in either of the two worlds for different reasons. I was loved, I was looked after, I was cared for, my physical needs were met. Some would say I was a spoilt child who got whatever she wanted. I cannot deny any of that. Everyone involved in my care did their best for me with what they knew. However, I lived in fear a lot. I wasn’t able to be myself for different reasons. I feel that I simply existed in both of these worlds. Both sets of families did their best for me, both loved me. Did either of the two families truly know me? Looking back, I don’t believe they did. I’m not sure I knew myself to be fair. At the time I was none the wiser. I just lived, day to day, year to year.

I continued going to school during this time, I loved school. I was good at learning new things. I had great friends. School then became high school, that became college and college to university. I’m not sure how it all happened at the time but it did. Days turned into years and they passed me by. So many other things had evolved in my world simultaneously. There is so much to my story that I simply don’t speak about. I was definitely not your average teenager. I was a mother figure from a very young age in multiple ways. I had very little interest in partying and going out doing the things people my age did. I guess that changed at some point as I got older but it certainly wasn’t where I ever belonged from within. I started off doing really well at school and as my life changed I felt like I was dropping balls all around me. Looking back on this time it blows my mind. How can a 16, 17, 18 year old feel like she was dropping balls? How can she be feeling so burdened by all this responsibility. Why did she has so many responsibilities? As life unraveled I felt like a failure. I guess that has stayed with me since. Despite finding my way through it all, eventually finding my true calling of being a Montessori teacher. My passion of understanding these little people and being their voice. Working my way up from being a student to teacher to eventually manager of a nursery. I have always felt like I could have done better.

I believe my true purpose in life is helping people, caring for people, advocating for those who are not always heard. I wonder where this came from?! What I’ve discovered more recently is that I want to do it on my terms. I want to teach the young how to put themselves first. How to dream. How to communicate their needs. It’s all I’ve ever known. Caring for people. I did it because I had to, I was expected to. I was drawn to the Montessori path and early childhood development because of my baby brother. Sure he’s technically my half brother but in reality that means absolutely nothing. We are fully one whole. I was so fascinated by this amazing little being that he was, a teeny tiny baby doing all these amazing teeny tiny baby things! I love him dearly and at the time without even knowing it he taught me so much about myself. He’s played a huge role in shaping me into the mother I am today.

I have always recognised that this is my calling. I want to share my knowledge and be the person I needed when I was a child. Self belief is something I have always struggled with and I still do if I am being completely honest. It is a work in progress. Here’s the beauty of it, anything is possible if you put the work in. I want to inspire young children to believe in themselves. The world is their oyster no matter what they have going on in their own little worlds. I am so excited for the future because great things are coming. I made it through the fog.

All I have ever craved for in all my years of existence was peace. A safe place. A place to call home. Truly home. My home. I moved from one family to another over the years but I never felt like I belonged in any one place. I fitted in everywhere but there was always another place to go to next. I remember a particular song, I remember falling in love with the lyrics. I remember singing this song on repeat with my dad in the car. This particular part, translated below, stuck in my mind. How beautiful a life like this would be.

“There will be this life, where there will be nothing but happiness all around us because I will love you that much my love”

I didn’t know it at the time but in years to come I was going to meet this man. This exact man whom I had been dreaming about. This man in my head who ticked all these boxes. He understood me, my heartache, my sadness. He would learn all about me and the secrets I kept so close to my heart. I would go on to tell him about all the times I had been alone and scared with my mum. He would learn about all the times I solved crisis after crisis on my own, merely a child at the time. He would learn about the in depth details of my sleepless nights filled with screams and cries. Sometimes mine, sometimes my mum’s. He would know the intricate details of each time my mum locked me into the house so that I could not leave her. About the countless hospital visits I told no one the details about. About everything else that was going on outside that bubble that I simply did not speak about. This man would love me unconditionally. No judgements. No expectations. I would be enough for him. Just the way I was. I didn’t have to pretend to be someone else with this man. I could be my true self.

Life at that time taught me that a love like that didn’t exist. In fact I was once told, to my face, that I was living in a dream world. I had ridiculous expectations and I needed to get over it. I needed to snap out of it and live in the real world. It didn’t sit right with me. I didn’t know it at the time but that was just another learning curve. How misunderstood I was. What they didn’t understand was that I had lived in the realest of worlds for such a long time, I needed my dream world in order to survive. That one comment was a turning point, it made me stronger and it helped me heal. It taught me to believe. It allowed me to love myself. To respect myself. I knew I didn’t have high expectations. I deserved to be loved in exactly the way I chose to be loved.

Someone incredibly special recently told me that I manifested this man I now call my husband into my life. She told me that I had spent all those years manifesting this life before I had even understood what manifestation was. I smiled so hard when she told me this because the thought had never even crossed my mind but now she had said it, oh how I believed it. How utterly spot on she was. How else did this happen?

Why am I sharing all of this today? There is way too much personal information here right? Yes, there is, however life has been as such recently where I’ve had a huge urge to reflect and understand what is truly important and to me, my whole world exists in our four walls. Sure there is more to me than Yashin, Pranay and Bailey but my true happiness, my peace, my home, that lies within us. The four of us. I truly value our life together in a way that I simply cannot even put into words.

Deep gratitude, appreciation and so much love.

Have you ever done this? If you haven’t done so already then I urge you to take some time to sit with your thoughts. Write them down. Reflect. How would your past self feel about your current self? How about your current self, where would you like to see your future self in years to come?

In recent months when Baa was in those last few days I had a conversation with Pranay over dinner one evening. I told him that 35 years ago I was where he is now. I was the child sitting with Baa at the dinner table talking about my school day with her. She would have made rotli for me just how I had for him. I told him that these memories would stay with him forever and that in 35 years time from now he could potentially be having a similar conversation with his own children. I told him be would think back to this exact conversation one day and he would smile to himself. We talked about the circle of life and how beautiful it is to reflect on these moments. It is so easy to take it all for granted in the hustle and bustle of it all. How about slowing it down and absorbing it all as it is happening, for one day it shall simply be a memory looked back upon.

When I shared the last blog post, the eulogy I wrote for my mum’s funeral, I thought to myself at the time that that was it. It would be the last time I would have anything to say on shesnotmad.com how wrong I was. It now feels as though I am beginning a whole new chapter. Isn’t it amazing what time, healing, strength and growth can do for someone. I recognise how much I have evolved in the last 18 months to get to this stage.

My mum and I share a completely different bond now. It is pretty magical. It’s all in the signs around me and I honestly feel her with all my being at times. Am I now the crazy lady who people roll their eyes at when she talks about getting a sign from her mum? Yep, guilty as charged but you know what? I don’t care about the eye roller’s opinions of me! I just know that they are not there yet, maybe now is not their time. One day when they do get there they will think about the stuff I’ve shared and they will understand it for themselves. How beautiful a moment will that be for them.

Yashin doesn’t quite get it, it is all very alien to him, but does he listen to me when I talk about it? Of course he does. He values what I have to say and he supports me. He knows what makes me feel good and he trusts in what I believe. No judgments ever from that man! I could tell him the moon was purple with red spots and he would find a way to meet me in the middle! He would do his own research. He would try to figure out why I thought that way and was there in fact some truth in it?! We often talk about Ilu Nani and Baa, the signs they send us as a family over breakfast. It brings us comfort. We have so many beautiful stories around this. Some may say they are mere coincidences and others will know exactly what I am talking about. Either way, it works for us. There is no shame in being true to ourselves.

I’ve realised that the reason I write is to share our story, especially for those it resonates with. I share to help people understand that there are so many different families out there with so many different stories of their own. This just happens to be one of them. Most importantly I share this because my boy is getting older, I have nieces and nephews who are now at the age I was at where I felt lost and so confused, those crucial teenage years. I felt I had the whole world on my shoulders. I have so many ex students who were once in my care all those years ago, who would have been between 2-5 years old when I taught them but are now young adults. Some of them are now friends with me on social media. Any one of any of these people could stumble upon this blog and who knows if they could benefit from something they read along the way. It could resonate with them or they could pass it on to a friend who they know will need to see it.

Imagine being able to make a difference to someone’s life simply by sharing your thoughts and feelings. I would love for another person to read this and for it to encourage them to share their own story with one of their friends or with a teacher at school, maybe a work colleague. Normalising talking about things that really matter.

I want people to know that anything is possible. We all have hopes and dreams. It is absolutely possible to dream big, set high standards for how you wish to be treated. Know how you deserve to be loved and respected. It is always a two way street. Reach for the stars, aim as high as you can with your goals. It could be for your dream job, you may be on a health and fitness journey, you may want to be on TV one day. Find your goals and then put in that hard work in to make it all happen. Some people will think you are too much, let them! (Hello Mel Robbins!!) it is so important to remember that you are enough and perfectly perfect, just the way you are (we love a bit of Bruno Mars in our house!)

A shout out to my husband. How is any of this possible? Yashin. My absolute rock. The man who stands by me no matter what. Where did my self belief come from? Of course it came from me, no one else could do that for me but who waters and feeds that plant regularly, especially on the days I might forget to? On the days when I crumble, he helps to put me back together again. On the days I am not motivated to take that next step, he will give me that gentle nudge in the right direction. He has always seen me for me, for what I am on the inside. That is the reason we connect in the way we do. That is the reason we are “so loved up”.

Don’t worry, we have disagreements like all normal couples do! In all honesty, when you’ve seen it all, the little things simply don’t matter. Some life lessons teach you to appreciate the good and let go of what doesn’t serve you. Though I believe we also really get each other’s minds and so we are able to communicate our way through any disagreements that may arise. This didn’t happen overnight, it takes years of learning about each other, figuring each other out. A lot of give and take, compromise, understanding what the other is saying without misinterpretation. Putting ourselves in each other’s shoes. We understand the fundamental principles and importance of building each other up. It works both ways. I understand his needs as much as he understands mine. We’re a team. I give him a gentle nudge on the days he needs it too. I let him cry into my arms when devastating, life changing things happen. It is a two way street.

The reason I am sharing this post today is because it is our wedding anniversary soon, 24th June will always be a memorable day for us, for many reasons. I’ll save those stories and lessons for another time.

I wanted to celebrate another year with this beautiful man by pouring my heart out here. Of course I’ve been reflecting on everything that got me to this day, 13 years on. I am so grateful to be where I am today. I am so blessed to have married this incredible man. I adore the world we have created for Pranay. I am so thankful for the life we share.

Happy anniversary my Iove xx

If anyone else other than Yashin and Jaymini actually made it this far then I thank you! I appreciate you. Please do reach out. I’d love to hear from you. Much love xx

Our final goodbye… Eulogy for our beloved Ilu 🤍

Jai Shree Krishna, thank you all for joining us today. I stand before you on this sad day to speak about our beloved mum, Illa. Pranay and Bailey’s Ilu Nani and to bid our final farewell to her.

My mum and I have always had an incredibly unique relationship. I remember her as being the kindest most loving mum in my early childhood years. Everyone who was there at the time will recall these events differently. This is my version of events. This is what I saw, this is how I felt. I remember her becoming unwell often. Mentally. But she was still my mum. Even on those days. I remember even as a young child that she had good days and bad days. I remember wiping away her tears. I remember feeling scared. Not understanding what was happening to her. Some days I was terrified of her. Some days I loved her deeply. Some days I didn’t want to be with her. Other days I missed her and longed to see her. From a very young age I didn’t live with my mum on a full time basis. I would spend my week with dad and his side of the family and I would spend every other weekend with mum and her side of the family. My holidays were shared between the two. This was my normal. I have always loved both my parents equally, deeply, with all my being and I always will.

I often look back on those years and I am not sure if I have ever said this out loud to my dad but I thank him with everything I have for always making an effort to ensure I saw my mum. For all the hours, in fact years, he spent driving me to and from Leicester. He did that for me. He helped me maintain this relationship that could have so easily frayed at the seams. It is because of that support that my mum and I were able to bond as deeply as we did. It is because of that effort that I was able to soak in and appreciate all the love that radiated out of my mum onto me. I dread to think what would have happened to her if our bond had not been secured at that crucial time.

Like I have already said, everyone who was there at that time will have their own version of events. This is mine.

My mum loved me more than she has ever loved anyone or anything. I was her whole world. She would have done anything to make me happy. To see me smile. She has spoilt me rotten over these years. My mum was the most loving person you could ever have imagined. She was filled with love. Sadly circumstances weren’t kind to her in this lifetime. She wasn’t always able to live up to society’s high standards. However for the people who truly understood her worth, this love would have been felt by them.

There came a time where she stopped being my mum and she became my child. And so today is like a double edged sword, I am saying goodbye to my mother yet at the same time I am saying goodbye to my child too.

Not many will know about the countless times my dad and his family have rescued my mum and I in the last 25 years. The trips from London to Leicester to A&E at 3am. The times my mum has been missing, walking the streets. Every time she did not answer her phone set me off in a panic. The times she overdosed herself. The times the police have called me asking me if I am her next of kin. The list is endless. My dad and his family have supported me throughout my life, right through to my mum’s death and beyond. They have been there for my mum silently through me for all these years, because of the love they hold for me. No matter what has happened in the past or during this time. No matter what has been said and done over these years. All the feelings that have been hurt along the way, ultimately each and every one of them have at some point in time played a most vital role in my upbringing. Equally my Nannima, my mum and Kanu Masi have instilled their values within me. Together, between them all they have created this person standing in front of you today. Where there is love. everything is possible.

There have been so many people on my journey with mum who entered our world and helped us in some way. Some for days, others for months and some for years. Many have been by my side forever. I thank each and every one of those people.

The people who helped my mum fight her battles when she was alone and helpless. The people who were there for her when I was too young to understand what she needed. The ones who moved my mum’s furniture with us. The ones who came to visit mum at any one of her infinite hospital stays. The people who have cooked for us. The people who have ever brought a smile to my mum’s face. I thank you all.

To some of my mum’s family in particular who once helped her and did their best to be there for me when I was trying to navigate what was the toughest time of my life when my Nannima passed away. I thank you all from the bottom of my heart from both my mum and I.

My mum shares so many wonderful, glorious memories with her family. She used to share the stories of her childhood with me, always with a big smile on her face. She would tell me of her Mombasa days. My Nannima fondly called her Ilu and how fiercely she protected her Ilu. Though my Nannima loved her Ilu wholeheartedly she also had moments of real struggle with her. She was after all dealing with my mum’s mental health needs as best as she possibly could at that time. My Nannima passed the baton onto my mum’s elder sister Kanu Masi who has become our Nannima since. Kanu Masi who lives in the USA has been my mum’s pillar of strength and my person to go to at any time with any question. She has never let us down. She has held us up in ways I cannot explain. Always just a phone call away she would spend hours talking to my mum. Helping to calm her down on mum’s hyper days and trying to cheer her up on mum’s low days. Even as she fights her own battles. I know she will be feeling this loss more than anyone. Thank God for FaceTime which changed our lives and it’s enabled us to be together despite being in different parts of the world.

Anmol and Hemal, my mum’s beloved nephews were cherished by her. As was her niece, Meera. Anmol and my mum could speak for hours on end on the phone. They shared stories about bin collection days and emails to Hanuman Dada! If ever mum had a health problem she would tell me to check with Dr Hemal and she would always beam with pride as she said this.

My mum loved her sister and brothers dearly, she always told me that she would one day go to see her brothers in Kenya. When Suresh Mama died, I could not find the words to tell her and so all this time I never did. I’m sure they will now find each other again. She remembered her aunts and uncles, each of her cousins who she adored. There would always be some mention of one of them every single day. Always a story from years ago, this one said this and that one did that. She has missed all of her family deeply, especially within the last few years.

When Yashin came into our lives as a guardian angel, he and his family took us both under their wings. My mum has always said that Yashin is her son and he has truly lived up to her high expectations. On the days when she was really angry with me she would tell me that I am her “vaow” (daughter-in-law) and Yashin is her “dikro” (son). Other days she would say the opposite. She would warn me about Yashin, tell me dark stories of what could go wrong. The truth is it’s never mattered to either of us. We have never taken anything that my mum has said to us to heart because we both know and understand that she was the purest most innocent soul we would ever meet. The day she died we both sat with her for hours, we were too late. She had already gone. Still we held her hand, stroked her head and we both cried our hearts out. He later said to me that she was our first child.

Yashin and I have had our fair share of heartbreak and loss over the last few years. For this reason we haven’t been able to give my mum our all and the infinite time that she’s always been used to, especially this year. We have however always tried to give her our absolute best. I hope she knew this. I hope she knew how loved she was.

Our son Pranay brought a new level of joy into my mum’s life. He was always her little “bachu” (baby) as she called him. He is and has always been a very special, intuitive and empathetic little boy. We are so blessed to have him and my mum was completely in love with him. They shared a truly special bond. Mostly they were like siblings who would play together, share food and fight for the remote control. Both would come to me with their argument and expect me to take their side. They would make drawings and paintings for each other to stick on their wall. Pranay helped to calm my mum down on countless occasions. He’s sometimes had to be the bigger person and has had to calmly explain something to her when she has been in a heightened state of mind. He’s understood her and her needs as an 8 year old boy. Something many adults still haven’t been able to achieve.

Then there’s our Bailey. Our precious little dog who absolutely adores his Ilu Nani. Their bond was the sweetest. He always brought out the best in her and undoubtedly brightened up her days every single time he was with her. No matter what her state of mind was.

Speaking of her state of mind, I want to talk about Schizophrenia. My mum was hearing voices. She was paranoid. She was scared. Unable to express herself. She hallucinated. She had no control. Imagine that, sitting where you are right now I want you to close your eyes for a few seconds and imagine that. Put yourselves in her shoes and imagine what that must have felt like. What must she have been going through on a daily basis? Now look me in the eye and call her “Gandi Illa” (mad Illa). I want to stand here today and scream from the rooftops that she was not mad. I will continue to share our stories on shesnotmad.com. I have always said I will write a book about my mum and her journey one day, though I am not sure I will ever be able to bring myself to put those words onto paper. What a heart-breaking journey it has been for her. Maybe one day my son will be able do it. Her legacy will live on and we will continue to spread the awareness we always have about mental health, about paranoid schizophrenia and that this diagnosis is not a bad word that cannot be said out loud. I will do my best to ensure that another Illa is not left alone in a completely lost state, longing to be accepted. I have spent most of my life wiping away her tears, fighting her battles and I will not stop now.

Neem tree care centre, our family. Words cannot do justice to the love and care you have given us. Thank you to Meera for creating this safe space. To dear Hansa, who my mum called her sister. Krutika, her other daughter. Nora, she loved you so much. Harpal, Poonam, Vaishali, Rita, Tara, Alisha, Sonal, Geeta, Pushpa, Shilpa, Komal, Asha, Sija, Brenda, Janielle, Damali, Edyta and so many others who have been part of her Neem Tree family. The people who brought light back into my mum’s dark years. I thank you. In Leicester she was stuck in a tunnel and the light at the end of that tunnel was found at Neem Tree. These last 4 years of her life have been the most beautiful years for us, filled with cherished memories. This is the first time in the last 25 years that I have truly felt at peace and felt supported in a way that I was able to take a step back. This is the first time I have been able to let others look after her knowing she was in safe hands all the time. I could trust these people in ways I have never been able to trust anyone. Just as when a mother searches for the perfect nursery and then school for her child I picked Neem tree because of the love I felt when I walked in. I cannot thank you all enough and I will forever be indebted to you for making Illa’s last years so happy, so beautiful, surrounded by loved ones. Illa was everyone’s friend at Neem tree. The residents, even with the odd run ins, were all part of her family. All the staff loved her. The cook, the cleaners, the maintenance people. She smiled her way into each of their lives. The one person at Neem Tree who I will hold in my heart forever is Jane. Jane acted immediately in those last moments. She gave her all to give my mum CPR, she called for help and she tried her absolute hardest to bring my mum back to me. Jane was in constant contact with me leading up to my mum’s death and Jane held onto me while I begged my mum to please open her eyes again. Jane supported me until Yashin could get to me. Neem Tree, you will forever hold a special place in our hearts and you will forever remain our family.

The time has come to say goodbye. I have always said that I am forever healing and that has never felt truer. I will continue to heal from this loss for the rest of my life. I wish my beautiful mum the most peaceful onward journey. I know she will always be with us. The day she died she left me with a sign to tell me that she was with me. I will forever look out for more signs from her.

Thank you for being here for her today as she finally gets the peace she has deserved for so long.

We will end with our song. I sang this to her often. It made her so happy when we sang together. She in turn sang this to me. She would say “Tu Mari Maa thai ne avi cho” (you have come here as my mother).

Jai Shree Krishna 🙏🏽

Song: Tu kitni achhi hai, by Akriti Kakkar.

Happy birthday to Illa’s son xx

I haven’t written anything for a very very long time. Today I had this urge to share and so here I am sharing my heart with the world. I’ve actually been writing this for a couple of weeks now, snippets here and there. Stolen rare moments of quiet time during the lockdown period and when I got a minute or two to myself whilst homeschooling, cooking and cleaning.

I firstly wanted to wish my incredible husband the happiest of birthdays and whilst doing so I wanted to put out there just how much of an amazing human being he is. I wanted to share the importance of support, the kind of support that comes straight from the heart. No strings attached. I wanted to share our story, the story of Illa and her son.

Our story began 11 years ago. The most beautiful love story, one I love to tell and people smile when they hear it. It was right out of a movie, a magical movie where dreams come true and I absolutely got my happily ever after from it too. This incredible man walked into my life and suddenly everything changed. He loved me in a way I had only ever dreamed about. He taught me to love myself, not intentionally, he just changed my outlook on life by stepping into mine. I suddenly understood that I was worthy of love. I deserved to be treated like a princess, though he took that part a bit too seriously some may say, quite literally!! It has been a dreamy, magical, fairytale journey and I have loved every minute of it.

It took a long time for me to let him into my life because I always lived in fear based on past experiences. Generally men who were interested in dating me did not like to hear the words “my mum has been diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia. It’s not quite as simple as a diagnosis. She is a very big part of my life. I am her main carer. I am her only carer.”

Yashin heard these words and his reply was “Wow, you’re amazing. It must be really tough.” When I tried to push him further away as we became closer he would say things like “we are in this together now, you will never go through any of this on your own again” He wasn’t phased by it in the least. He didn’t care that it would impact the rest of our lives together. He didn’t worry that he would also become my mum’s main carer to some degree. It didn’t bother him that we would have to cancel plans, holidays, put our lives on hold on numerous occasions over the next 11 years and beyond because emergencies would come up all the time. Nope, Yashin wasn’t like any other person I’ve ever met. He was different, he still is. He has a heart of gold and the patience of a saint, unless he’s arguing with our 5 year old darling son over what movie to watch on Netflix, but that’s a different story!

I can’t say that Yashin “saved” me, because I have never believed that that can happen. I believe the only person who can save you is yourself. The only person who can change your life is you. The only person who can take you to your happy ever after is you and I firmly believe that even now. He absolutely did not save me. I have always been a warrior, I have always fought for myself and for the people I love. I have always been one of the strongest people I know. I say that with such confidence which could be mistaken for arrogance because only I and a handful of loved ones, truly know the intricate details of my daily life and each day that has led me to my today. I believe with the same confidence that not many would have survived to tell the tale that I lived. No, Yashin did not save me. What he did do was support me. He loved me selflessly, unconditionally and he shared his beautiful soul with me. He helped me to believe, he took hold of me and we have walked the rest of our path of life hand in hand since.

Telling Yashin about my mum was easy, an absolute breeze. A breath of fresh air. The time eventually came to tell my mum about Yashin, that was a whole different kettle of fish! My mum was terrified of the day I would tell her I was getting married. She held onto so much fear around it. She has always wanted nothing but happiness for me, her mind didn’t always let her play that out calmly and peacefully though. I remember the day I told her that I had met this man. I loved him very much and he treated me like a queen. She instantly questioned everything about him. He was from South Africa, what if he tried to kill me how another man had killed his wife.. it was all over the news at the time. What if he took me to South Africa to live there, what would happen to her? What if he didn’t like her? We talked through all her worries and I assured her that she really had nothing to worry about with this gem of a man. Of course nothing really worked until she met him for herself. The meeting went beautifully, as if it could have gone any other way. Yashin worked his magic and said and did all the right things. She instantly felt comfortable around him and she even told him that the colour of his skin reminded her of Lord Krishna who was also dark and he too had a kind heart! We laughed and laughed at Illa’s innocence.

One meeting led to two, three and so many more. He was quickly a big part of her life. There was one time in particular that sticks in my mind. We had gone to Leicester because mum had transitioned from her low sleepy phase into her hyper manic phase. She was all over the place, there was a lot of screaming, shouting and paranoia. She would pace up and down the room and get very angry over simple things. She would be hearing voices during this time and she’d be completely traumatised internally. I always worried what would happen the first time Yashin saw this in person. I had of course talked about it many times with him. He knew the details of what had happened in the past though never seen it until this one fine day. I did what I always did when she became unwell in this way. I took control of the situation and did my best to calm her down, knowing that I never truly knew which way things would go. She could become violent and aggressive at times. I had to be on guard to protect myself and her. Many years ago shortly after my Nannima passed away, she tried to take her own life on various occasions, it has always stuck with me and has always been something I think about when she becomes unwell. So many different things ran through my head during this time. She usually hated me when she was like this. I could do nothing right. It was exhausting.

On this particular day she paced up and down the room and she shouted at me because I had asked her to eat something, knowing she hadn’t eaten properly for days. She started singing at the top of her voice and made faces at me. Yashin talked to her calmly and suddenly she stopped. She sat next to him on the sofa and calmed down for a few minutes at least before starting up again. She talked to the photos on the wall, she spoke to the statues in her little temple. Again he spoke to her about something and distracted her and again she calmed down and sat next to him. This repeated for hours. He managed to get her to eat something. He just treated her like she was anyone else. She felt understood by him. I felt nothing but relief. As always things escalated, the CRISIS team were involved and eventually she was admitted onto a ward.

There was another time, a similar situation arose and this time Yashin had a lot going on with work. He had calls to attend to over the weekend and his lap top was permanently attached to him. We arrived in Leicester and did what we did. I remember this so clearly and I don’t think it is something I will ever forget. I went into the kitchen to make some tea for us all. I could hear mum in the other room, crying, shouting, talking to Yashin about all her worries. Suddenly there was silence, I went into the room to see what had happened and I saw mum sitting on the sofa next to Yashin. Yashin had one hand on my mum’s hand resting on his knee. He had the lap top resting half on the coffee table and half on his other knee. He had the phone to his ear and he spoke to someone as he typed with one hand. Mum sat there quietly watching him and not making a sound. He finished his call in a few minutes and looked up at me, “I just need to send an email” he said. Mum continued to try to read what he was typing as he typed and I quietly walked into the kitchen eyes filled with tears. What had I just witnessed? How could this man be so patient? So calm? So unphased by it all?

When mum is in her manic phase she does not sleep. She can go for days, up to a week, sometimes longer with no sleep at all. Being the one who takes care of her I have in turn not slept on many occasions with her. It’s affected every part of me. Physically, mentally, emotionally. It has affected my education, my work life, my personal life. When Yashin came into my life I was suddenly able to sleep, even during the manic phase. We would take turns. We would do shifts. He would stay awake so that I could get an hour or two of sleep knowing that she would need me most when at her worst. There was a time I was in Leicester on my own with mum and Yashin was in London. We had not slept for a couple of days straight, mum and I. Yashin called on mum’s phone, it was in her bedroom and he spoke to her about anything and everything. He kept her busy. He sent me a text message to say “I’ve got her, you sleep for a bit.” I was on the sofa in the room next door. I told him to call my mobile to wake me up when he had to go. I slept. The relief that came with that and the hundreds of moments like that have just been priceless.

A year or so after being married and moving into our new home where we had more space, we were able to bring mum to stay with us more often. Sadly these visits didn’t always go well, mum really struggled with me being married and having another person in my life, she struggled with me having my own life. She loved it but it was also hard for her. On days when she couldn’t express herself she would behave how a child might. We went through a phase where she would have accidents, not always making it to the toilet in time. Usually during the night. She would stand outside our bedroom door and she would repeatedly call my name out. When I walked out she would say “I have made a mess.” She’d be so distressed by this. Crying, frantically worrying and the look of horror on her face. Yashin would always say, “it’s okay I’ll clean up the mess, you sort mum out.” I would help her shower and get dressed while Yashin would get the bed ready for her again.

These stories are endless and I would be here forever going through each one. From my pregnancy and how that affected mum’s life. Each year, as Pranay grew from month to month, year to year. Each one came with its own story and how it affected mum and her journey.

She moved from an independent house to supported living in an independent flat. She moved from day time support to 24hr support. The most devastating move for us was when she was taken into a residential care home and needed 24 hour care. The best move has been the move to a care home in London. The most incredible place with nothing short of angels taking care of her every need. The added benefit of being able to see her as often as we wanted, until Covid hit of course.

We have survived 2020 and a world where Covid has taken over our lives. We have loved lockdown after lockdown because it has meant being together and enjoying our little world of 3. We are of course missing our loved ones deeply and spend hours on FaceTime. We have been forced to be away from our Illa. As always we have made it our own with technology. Yashin being Yashin has made things as best as they can be for her by installing an interactive camera into her room, creating slideshows with music on a digital photo frame for her to enjoy and the list goes on. We watched our Illa slip away and come back to us when Covid took over her body. Our survivor. We filled out end of life forms for her in sheer disbelief. We got through it, came out the other end and lived to tell the tale.

From that first meeting 11 years ago to now, we have shared countless memories. A beautiful marriage, a gorgeous 5 year old son. An ongoing journey of losses. 3 beautiful homes, making the final move to our forever home. Traveling the world. Infinite trips to South Africa. We have lived and continue to live our happy ever after. We have grown as people, we are certainly not the people we were 11 years ago. The beauty of it has been that we have grown together, we have understood each other. Don’t get me wrong, we argue and bicker like all couples do over silly little things but overall we are on the same page, on the same team and that’s all we need. I feel so blessed to have found this man, I feel so thankful for Illa to have this son who loves and protects her in the way he does. I am grateful that he is the father of my son and the best role model I could ever want for him. I have nothing but love and respect for our parents in South Africa for creating this human and thank them with all my heart for becoming my family.

I will finish with the translated lyrics of one of my favourite Hindi songs, Tujh Mein Rab Diktha Hai, the female version. You must listen to it. It is the most beautiful song with the most beautiful lyrics in Hindi. My husband of course needs the translated version! Though I don’t feel the translation does it justice. Every single word resonates with me.

“You didn’t ask me anything, You didn’t ask for anything, Whatever you gave was from your heart. You didn’t say anything, You didn’t weigh any of it, Whatever you gave was with a smile. You’re the sunshine and the shade, You’re the stranger who became my own, I know nothing else I know only this… I see my God in you.”

Happy Birthday my love, may you always be blessed. I love you x

This Christmas I’ll give you my heart…

Illa Have you ever had to mourn for a loved one whilst they were still alive and in front of you? I really hope you never have to go through that level of pain. If you have then you will know exactly what I am talking abut here. The idea of it will be alien to anyone who has not actually gone through this. It sounds harsh, it sounds over the top, it is however a reality for some that eats at them for every waking moment.

Recently I went out for our annual school Mum’s Christmas dinner. We had a fabulous time. There was a lot of laughter and happiness in the air. It was a lovely night of catching up. I was sitting next to someone who after some time asked me what everyone always asks me “how’s your mum doing Anjali?” My usual response is “she’s okay. She’s still the same. Nothing has really changed with her” I usually then stare back at the person who has asked me this question with a blank look on my face or I simply look away and wait for the subject to change.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to not talk about her. I don’t want to not share. I always want people to know what happens in our world. I always want to spread awareness. I always want to speak up on behalf of the voices that are not heard. So if ever you ask me “how is mum?” and this is how I respond to you or you have asked me in the past and this is how I have reacted to you, it most likely means that at that moment in time I simply do not have the energy to go into the level of detail I need to go into to really answer that question. Let me tell you now, it is exhausting. Plain and simple exhausting living the two lives I live. One where I stick a smile on my face and face the world as Anjali, Yashin’s wife, Pranay’s mum. A daughter, daughter-in-law, sister, sister-in-law, an aunt. A grand daughter, niece, cousin, friend, colleague, the one always there to help everyone around her and always smiling. Then there’s the other world where I am Illa’s daughter. A smile on my face for different reasons. A smile that holds back tears. A smile that shows mum I am okay and invincible, that I can take on all her troubles and make everything okay for her always. The fixer. The carer. The full time carer. The one who is so in control of everything, so on top of everything that the only words I can use to describe this feeling is ironically “it’s insane”.

So on the mum’s night out, the mum sitting next to me asked me this question. There was a slight difference here, in the way she asked me, the look on her face. She was not just making conversation with me, she genuinely cared about my answer. I could see this and genuinely felt the warmth from her. I took a deep breath and let loose.

I told her that my mum is not okay. She’s not been okay for a long long time now. I explained how she once lived a life where she shifted from one extreme to another. We had some low days. Really really low days and then every few months something would trigger something within her and she would start to get quite manic. We have lived in this cycle for years… close to 18 years since I have been her main carer and this was the case even before that, though over the years things changed and the dynamics of how this evolved continued to change our lives. Many many years ago she once had “normal days” too. This feels like a lifetime ago. During this time she was my mum. She would cook for me on these normal days. She would do things Mums do for their children during this time. This was a lifetime ago.

I told this mum my life story in a nutshell. I told her how my parents separated when I was very young. I lived with my dad. I told her that I was initially scared of my mum as a young child once we were away from each other and I told her that it was because of my amazing Dad who made sure I maintained this relationship with my mum, which is why we are where we are today. He spent weekends driving up and down the M1 for us. I will never forget all those years of those long drives back and forth. I will never forget that even when I was older and Mum was my responsibility, all the hours he spent driving me to different hospitals, sometimes in the middle of the night. I will never forget.

I told her that as my life has progressed and things have changed in my world my mums illness has followed and she has progressively gotten worse. When I met Yashin and eventually introduced him to my mum her mental health deteriorated a little. When I announced that there would be an engagement and then the wedding, another dip. The lead up to the wedding and just after when life truly began for us. When I told her I was pregnant, things got pretty horrendous through my pregnancy. I did things and saw things that a pregnant lady simply should not be dealing with during this precious time. When Pranay was born. The first time she came to stay with us after Pranay was born. Pranay’s first birthday. Pranay’s second birthday. Pranay’s third birthday. And well here we are now.

We have had to make some major life changing decisions during this time as we have reached each peak. Mum originally lived in a two bedroom house. From here I moved her into a one bedroom flat which had on-site support during the day for her. When this stopped working for us and for her, we had to look at a new flat, now with 24 hour on-site support should she need it. The hardest decision to date has to be the one where we decided she could no longer cope living on her own even with 24 hour support. It was time for a residential care home. 24 hour care. A decision I had always dreaded making but one that to happen to ensure someone was around for mum when I couldn’t travel as often with my baby.

So much has gone into each stage it would be unfair to briefly touch upon it. It would be unfair on mum and her story. It would be unfair on each hospital visit that accompanied it. It would be unfair on everything I went through and everything I felt during those times. Those times deserve so much more than a brief mention. They deserve a chapter each if ever I go on to write a book.

One thing that stuck with me after my conversation with this school mum on our Christmas night out and it’s probably the thing that has made me write this today is that she told me she had read my previous blog and she felt so much more at ease about approaching me with this subject. She felt that by me putting this out there it made it okay to ask me questions and find out more about Mental Health without feeling awkward about it. She said that she felt she knew nothing about this stuff before she read my blog as she felt she lived in her own little bubble where these things do not exist and by opening this door she felt she was allowed into a whole other world. This. This right here is why I started writing this blog. I know for a fact that this has been the reaction of many others and for this reason I shall continue to share our story.

It takes a lot out of me every time I sit and write about this stuff. This year has been a particularly challenging one and that is why it has taken me five months to write my second post. The night out I talk about was actually two weeks ago and I started writing this blog the next morning. It’s taken me this long to get my thoughts out because it honestly takes a lot of energy to do this. I feel drained after I write and I need time to recover. This is the behind the scenes stuff that the world would never know about.

Last weekend Yashin and I went to see mum. He had not seen her for a while as I usually do a day trip during the week while he is at work and Pranay at nursery. It’s usually a race against time. Or I go on my own on the weekend so that we can work around Pranay and mum. Yashin hears about this slow deterioration I talk about every time I see her but he got to see it for himself last weekend. In the car on the way up he told me we should take mum out for some food. I told him she’s not that person anymore. In the couple of months that he’d not seen her, such a huge change was waiting for him.

When we got there Mum was in the toilet. She came out and stood in the doorway just staring at us both. She smiled briefly. I asked if she had flushed the toilet or washed her hands and she stared at me blankly. She eventually said “I forgot”. I told her to go and flush the toilet and wash her hands and she turned really slowly and went back into the bathroom. Everything now takes a long time and it’s almost as though we are watching a slow motion version of Mum.

When she came and sat down, Yashin tried hugging her and talked to her. We both asked her questions. We both shared stories about Pranay and how great his school Christmas concert was. Yashin showed her the videos on his phone. Mum’s reaction to all this was just blank. She was not interested or if she was, she didn’t know how to show it. I then questioned her about food and what she’d eaten. Not much. We ordered her favourite things and waited. This in itself was a real process. Mum wanted us to leave. She looked at the clock as we sat there and she looked at her bed. She wanted to sleep in her bed and she wanted us to go. We chattered away despite this and tried to keep her focused on us being there for her.

When the food eventually came I dished it out for her and to my surprise watched her as she tried to pick up food with her whole hand dropping it as it got to her mouth. She was unable to hold the food properly. She was unable to get the food to her mouth as she normally would and she was trying to stuff in more food than she could fit into her mouth. My initial reaction was a loud “MUM. WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” I quickly reigned in my feelings of absolute shock to this new behaviour and thought logically. I took a spoon and filled it with food and I fed her Masala dosa. One of her favourite dishes. I fed her the rest of the meal. She chewed and swallowed and opened her mouth when she was ready for more. Inside a part of me died. I know she feeds herself daily and I now know that she makes a bigger mess than usual. The care workers want her to have as much independence as possible so they help clean things up once she’s done rather than feed her. I think back to my initial days of teaching Pranay how to feed himself. As every mother’s instinct powers through. You want your child well fed and relatively clean at the end of the meal. I wanted this for my mum. Just on this one day while I was there with her.

I don’t know what has changed. Medically she has had all the checks and she has been given the all clear. I am told that this is the nature of her illness and sadly given her particular circumstances, this is the way it is going to go.

I don’t know what Yashin thought when he saw her that day because when we left her we both sat silently in the car. He did let out a big sigh and said “Ohh Illa” as he sat in the car and then we did not say much to each other at all. I cried quietly and he held my hand all the way to Wellingborough where we had left Pranay with my Fai and Fua. He’s my pillar of strength, my support. We don’t need words to speak. Our silences speak volumes. The warmth of his hand is enough. Being held in his arms it’s all I need on some days. Silence. A mutual understanding. A connection like no other.

Every time I cry it is not because I am weak, far from it. I think I am the strongest I have ever been. I feel that my level of understanding about people and life has never been as clear and as certain as it is right now. I have never been more at peace with myself and with life in general. I now understand what life is about in a way I never did in the past. I understand relationships better than ever before. I am able to read situations and understand them better. I do not cry because I am weak. I cry because I see things that make me feel sad. I cry because I feel helpless. I cry because we live in a world where grown adults with special needs are so forgotten about that they cannot comprehend a simple gesture, a simple act of kindness. I cry because my Illa has been forgotten by so many at a time where she must miss them the most. I cry because I am disappointed and I feel helpless. I cry because Leicester suddenly feels so far away. I want to give her everything, the best life and I cannot. I cry to release.

Today I feel particularly sad. I’ve just come back from a long Leicester trip. Hours and hours of sitting in traffic. It took me over three hours to get there and over two and a half hours to get back. I sat with Mum for an hour and half. As I was getting ready to leave this morning Pranay who knew I was going to see Ilu Nani said “Mumma, Leicester is sooo far away” I looked at him and said “Yes baby, it really is” He knows this because bless him I have taken him back and forth on that M1 for most of his little life. Only recently he’s had a problem with this. Only recently I’ve stopped taking him because it suddenly dawned on me that the two of them don’t work together the way they once did. Mum is no longer excited by or interested in Pranay how she once was and he has picked up on this, the clever little thing that he is. This morning we said a prayer together, he tells me that they say “Dear God” at school and so we decide to say a prayer to make Hanuman Jai Jai aware that we need Ilu Nani closer to us. My intuitive little angel. Today I felt particularly sad as I left the care home with a classic happy face for them to see and then cried most of the drive home.

Today I went alone. Today she was the same as last week. I fed her the same food again because that’s what she asked for as soon as I sat down! She knew what she wanted to eat and said so before I had even taken my coat off! That right there, that’s a tiny weeny bit of my Illa shining through.

Today I cried for a different reason. I had taken personalised Christmas baubles for all the other patients. We put them up on the main Christmas tree in the communal area. I don’t think I have ever seen grown adults get so happy or excited about anything in the same way. They looked for their names, they pointed out each other’s. One lady smiled and smiled. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her smile before today. She came to me and she asked me my name, I told her “you can call me Anji” she said “thank you Anji! Thank you for putting my name on that tree” and she repeatedly said “is that MY name? Did YOU put MY name on that?” I repeatedly said “yes!” and smiled at her “yes that’s your name” she kept touching my arm, “you did that? …you did that for me?” she was beaming.

Another man made me laugh… he told me he hated Christmas and he hated the Christmas tree. He asked why I put his name on the tree. He said “now I have to like the Christmas tree, I don’t want to! But you’ve put my name on it so I like it! I don’t want to like it” I said sorry to this man and told him his name looked really beautiful in the tree.

My mum didn’t leave her room, she didn’t come to look for her name in the tree.

Thank you for reading our story. As always I will finish with a thought we should all try to follow…

Show it, say it, do it… Make a difference 🙏

12th July 1998, the day that changed my life forever…

Mental illness is nothing to be ashamed of. Neither is talking about it. It’s time to talk…

12th July 1998, the day that changed my life forever. I will always remember this day. It was the day I attended a family wedding, it was a football World Cup final day. Brazil and France were playing. I wore a light blue sari to the wedding and absolutely loved it; I was so excited to wear this sari. I remember it so clearly. After the wedding we went to my dear B’s house to watch the match with my usuals, Jay and Bhavik.

Everyone was excited and watching the match, I was sat on the floor, staring at the screen asking Bhavik way too many questions about the game. It was loud, there was a lot of laughter in the air, it was fun, snacks were being passed around.

Bhavik disappeared for a while, he was on the phone. He came back and quietly spoke to some of the others. He looked tense. He whispered something to Jay and Jay looked worried. She looked away. Everyone knew something I didn’t. He announced that we had to leave; we needed to head back home. I knew something was wrong but had no clue what was going on. I believed whatever he had said to me at the time and we drove home. It was a long drive from East London back home. The car was quiet; I wondered why the football was suddenly not important anymore. I sang along to the music as I always do and I sat next to Jay in the backseat. My head resting on her shoulder.

We got home and I walked into the house. Bhavik and Jay’s parents, Ba, Dad and my step-mum Harsha were all sat there looking at me as I walked in. I was stood by the door leading into the living room and my dad said the words “Anji, your Nannima has passed away”

I fell to the floor, my head in my hands and I sobbed. I hadn’t seen her for weeks. Many weeks. I had had busy weekends and I hadn’t been able to get to Leicester as often as I’d have liked. I had planned to spend time in the summer holidays with Mum and Nannima. It was too late; I was never going to be able to do that. I cried and I had a billion and one different thoughts running through my head. Suddenly my Mum popped into my head. What must this be doing to her? She would have been in pieces. I needed to see her. I needed to be with her. Immediately.

Jay held onto me, she let me cry and when I was ready Dad told me to get my things together. He told me he was taking me to Leicester.

We got to Leicester and I walked towards my Nannima’s flat. I was shaking. I was with my Dad and Harsha. I needed to see my Mum. We bumped into one of my uncles. Someone I was very fond of and I felt close to back then. I hugged him tight and he held onto me as I cried. He told me I had to be strong. I had to be strong for my Mum. Yes, Mum, I needed to see her. We walked up the stairs and got to the flat. I saw lots of different people, family. I saw my Mum she was sat in a corner. Quiet. Not moving. Not crying. Just sat there. Staring into space. The rest of the night and part of the next day is a blur. I remember being with my Mum’s cousin, she was by my side and she really wanted to help me. There was so much love in her eyes for me and my Mum. I could see the sadness in her. I tried to pack my Nannima’s dressing table up. I was going through drawers and trying to clear things out, it was the middle of the night and I remember her telling me that this stuff could wait; I didn’t need to do it now.

She was also by my side the next day when everything came to a sudden halt for me. Up until this point my Mum had not reacted to her mother’s death. When she did she did so with a loud scream, a terrifying scream that I can hear right now as I type this. She screamed and she cried and she shouted out “Mummy” repeatedly, louder each time. My initial reaction was fear and wanting to protect myself from the intense sadness that enveloped me. I ran. I ran as fast as I could out of the flat. I ran past the people who had come to pay their respects. I ran.

I got down one flight of stairs when my Mum’s cousin grabbed me and tried to stop me. I can’t remember what she said to me but I remember her words having a huge impact on what I did next. I think she told me I had to be strong and I had to be there for my Mum, that she needed me. I don’t know if she said the words or if I made them up in my head but something held me back. I didn’t run down the rest of the stairs. Instead I looked at her and I said “It’s okay, I’m okay” I turned around and I went back to my Mum. My tears had dried up and something inside me had changed. In those few seconds the way I processed thoughts had changed. I had suddenly grown up. This was the moment where I stopped being my Mum’s daughter and instead I took on the role of her mother, her carer. This was the moment where my Nannima handed over the responsibility of my Mums care to me. This was the moment that I had a child who I was now fully responsible for. Just like that my life transformed in front of my eyes.

I went back to my screaming, sobbing Mum and I held her tight. I told her everything would be okay. I stroked her head and I carried her weight and I let her fall into my arms. I comforted her as much as I possibly could and to my surprise she started to calm down. I told her we needed to get away from this flat and all the people and I took her to the wardens flat downstairs. I held her tight and between a few of us we got her down the stairs, into the other flat and comfortable. She rested her head in my lap and I stroked her.

A lot happened in the next few days. Emergency doctors were called out on several occasions. Medications prescribed. Mum was slowly becoming more and more manic. Her behaviour was getting more difficult to handle. She wasn’t sleeping during the nights or even days. I felt very alone though I was surrounded by people, family. I was suddenly in charge of my Mum’s care. When doctors visited people looked for me, I was dealing with anything to do with Mum. I was in charge of her medication. It stayed with me; I administered it at the correct times. It was hugely overwhelming. I felt that I couldn’t leave her side. I didn’t know what would happen in my absence.

Jay had decided to come and stay with me. Though she was sleeping in another house she was by my side at every waking moment. I felt at ease knowing she was around me. She had put herself in a difficult position for me. There was still some level of tension between my Mum’s family and dad’s family since the divorce and Jay had come and put herself in the midst of it all not caring about anything or anyone but me. Everyone was okay towards Jay and her being her she fit right in. She didn’t care about anything else, she was there for me. She even had abuse hurled at her by my Mum who in her manic state had lashed out at Jay for being from “the other side” and moments later showered her with love as she remembered Jay sleeping in her bed as a baby. I didn’t need to worry about this, or try to control it, I didn’t need to do anything, stop Mum or protect Jay. I knew Jay could handle it and I knew I didn’t need to say anything to make things better.

So very much happened in those few days. All I knew was that we needed to get Mum through to the funeral. We arranged a visit to see my Nannima as she lay fast asleep in her coffin at the undertakers. We felt this was necessary, especially for my Mum before the funeral.

This day lives with me forever. To this day I could give you a step by step account of exactly what happened on that day.

Nannima looked absolutely beautiful. She looked angelic, peaceful. She was such a kind and beautiful soul and this shone through as she lay there. It was incredible. I didn’t feel scared or worried or anything else, it was a beautiful moment we shared, one of our last moments together. We let Mum say her goodbyes. She cried and screamed and talked to her mother. She pleaded her to open her eyes again. She pleaded her to talk back. It was heartbreaking to watch this.

We were there for what felt like hours, I’m sure it’s wasn’t as long as that but it felt it. My Mum’s Mama told me I should go in the room alone and I should say goodbye to my Nannima on my own. He said not to worry about my Mum. He was going to stay with her and make sure she was okay while I was gone. I had wanted to do this so desperately from the moment we had stepped foot into the room and I felt so much love for him for suggesting it. I left Mum with him and I went in to look at my Nannima one last time, just me and her.

I stared at her beautiful face. She was glowing. I stared at her for a long time and then tears started rolling down my face. I cried a lot, quietly. My heart was hurting. I’m not sure I had ever felt pain like that before. I stroked her head and kissed her forehead and told her not to worry about her Ilu. I heard my Mum outside the room screaming and crying “Mummy” repeatedly. I knew it was time for me to leave my Nannima’s side and to take care of my Mum.

And just like that the funeral happened, my Mum was amazing. She remained calm and sang my Nannima’s favourite bhajan for her as we waited for the coffin to arrive. Dad came to the funeral and I felt so much calmer knowing he was there with me. When Nannima arrived I clung onto my dad and I cried a lot. Mum had her CPN with her the whole time. And just like that… she was gone.

What followed from here on… well it’s safe to say I lost a part of me that day. I lost some more of my innocence. I had never been an average child even before this, I’ve always been a bit of a grown up from a very young age. I definitely have never been “normal” whatever that may be. I was sixteen years old, seventeen in just days and there I was with this huge responsibility on my shoulders. At the time I felt lost, incredibly lost. I didn’t know whether I was coming or going. Mum became more unwell and eventually after trying to hurt herself a few times and trying to kill herself she was sectioned and taken into hospital.

I eventually went back home, back to London, back to dad’s house. With frequent hospital visits and daily contact over the phone with Mum. This is where my journey began. Though I had many experiences with my Mum and her mental health prior to this, this was the turning point for me. I had no idea back then what the coming years had in store for me. I have started writing this blog today in the hope that I will help someone somewhere who may be struggling how I once was.

Being the child of someone who suffers with paranoid schizophrenia is not easy. The stigma attached to this. The lack of understanding. The frustration that goes hand in hand with it. There is so much that is not talked about. It took me a long time to be able to do this, 20 years and I’ll be honest I’m still not quite there. I am still struggling. We still have our challenges. It never goes away and it never gets any easier. I have gotten better at dealing with certain aspects of it and I have learnt what to do in certain situations. Let me tell you though it eats you up from the inside. It affects your life in unimaginable ways. It affects your relationships with the people around you. It gives you a completely different outlook on life.

It teaches you to put yourself in other people’s shoes more often. It teaches you to not judge others. To give people a chance. To appreciate what you have. It changes you.

You will always have good days and bad days and this is okay. It’s okay to have bad days. You will learn from the bad days. Bad days can go on to become bad weeks or even bad months and again, that’s okay. It’s important to give yourself some credit and give yourself a break. It’s important to remember that bad days will always be followed by good days. Always.

Thank you for reading this today and for sharing my journey with me. I hope to share things I have never really shared before. Experiences I hope no one else has had and if they have to know they are not alone. I hope to make a difference in just one other life.

Say it, show it, do it… Make a difference.