This was going to be a post discussing mental health, depression, all the challenges that go with it. However, I started to put my thoughts together, and decided that it can wait until another time. Instead, I chose to remember other things. You know, the people and life experiences that inadvertently shape what we become, what we feel…things that form our characters.
Today, I will write about a dear friend, Natalie Wilson.
We grew up in the same little east-Norfolk village, but we did not always get on. Natalie was a very girly, gentle kid, whereas I was completely boisterous and decidedly un-girly. If we did ever have a playground game together, it was almost guaranteed that it wouldn’t stay civil for long! However, we ended up becoming kindred spirits through our high school days.
I remember us at fourteen in the year 2000, sitting round Natalie’s house. She had Pokemen Red on her Gameboy Color, I had Pokemon Blue. Together, we’d sit there with our little transfer cable exchanging Pokemon, and lamenting on how “life sucks”. We had had such high hopes for the millennium, hoping that our fortunes would magically change. Who were we kidding?
School was crap – boys definitely didn’t fancy us, the so-called “popular girls” took the piss out of us…yes, the coming of a new century had definitely shafted us…
There we sat on her bed, misery-masters Staind playing in the background, brooding in our maudlin thoughts. Both of us a little chubby, both a little acne-ridden and both thoroughly resentful at the injustices at life.
I have to give Natalie credit though – yes, we were oppressed by the tyrannical reign of the popular girls, but goodness me, she took no shit from them. Yes, it often made those nasty little harpies worse in the long run, but at least she didn’t let them walk all over her. The fourteen year-old me was easily intimidated by the school Barbies, yet they sent Natalie into battle-mode. Even if it was a battle often lost (those girls had a magical way of conjuring up a whole battalion of back-up).
“They’re not even that bloody special,” we’d grumble, recalling how one of them had said or done something nasty to us that day.
“Yeah, life sucks.”
We’d nod in agreement with each other, and continue with pondering the unfairness of life. Why us, why do we have to be treated like losers? We’d ask no one in particular. Looking back, it certainly cannot be denied that we indulged in what we’d call “typical teenage angst”.
Over a decade later in June 2012, I’m sat in a local pub with Natalie. She can’t walk very far now, so I went to pick her up in my car. We’ve just been playing the 2p pushers in the amusement arcades, and now we’re enjoying a cold juice. She has a beautiful, flowery top on, and is smiling away. In front of us is a little haul of key-rings and cuddly toys.
This little outing was the first time we’d spent proper time together in a long time. After high school, we’d gone our separate ways, occasionally drifting in and out of contact over the years . I’m ashamed to say it, but hearing on the grapevine that Natalie was suffering from bowel cancer…well, it brought us back in contact. Not the best of circumstances to be reunited with an old friend, but alas, I think that’s an unfortunate by-product of human nature. I see her sat there, knowing she’s fighting one of the toughest battles of all, and I find myself thinking back to the year 2000.
“Remember those times we’d sit in your room and tell each other how much life sucks?”
Natalie giggles and nods.
“Well, we really didn’t have a clue back then, did we?”
Natalie smiles. Her eyes are glistening, but there is sadness there. Her body is weakened, her frame has become delicate, but that feisty girl is still there.
“Yeah, we were absolute dicks!”
My beautiful, happy little friend passed away just 6 months later, in December 2012. Why Natalie? So young, so kind, so full of hope, and a far-cry from the angst-ridden teen that I spent my school days with. I do think of her every day. She was a talented artist who wanted to go back to University and become a teacher. Who knows, we could have ended up as bachelorettes in Norwich together. Yet, I will never know.
Some who read this blog will have no idea who Natalie is, but I just want them to know that she was one of the sweetest, most innocent souls I have had the pleasure of knowing. Yet, when I first met her as a boisterous pre-schooler, I never realised just how much of an impact she would have on me.
Today, I sat down at this computer with every intention to write about my experiences with mental health. Yet instead, I felt like this little memoir of Natalie just had to be told.
I still have my little key-rings, too.
Lisa Writes 