memory's a terrible thing, if you use it right

Believe it or not, I have not given up on this blog. I keep meaning to post but I haven't found the time, or the right words yet. 

So, here I am. I am at Oxford Brookes University, studying Occupational Therapy. I love my course, and I love that I am finally training. I even love my uniform! As unattractive as the green trousers are, I feel like an occupational therapist when I wear them.

I love Oxford but I don't really feel like I am in Oxford until I go to my campus in Headington or into the city centre. I still can't really believe that I am here. A few years ago, this felt so far away. 

Before I started OT, one of my worries was that it would bring back too many upsetting memories of being so weak and ill, when I was in the position of the patient, but not getting the support that I needed and craved. But I am in so much of a better position now that it doesn't affect me the way I was expecting. I don't feel like the girl I used to be, in that sense anyway. Now I just have the memories, and the empathy, understanding, and determination to try and make a difference to the lives of people who are in the position I used to be in. Sometimes when I talk about it, I still feel emotional, but not in a way that it distresses me. Now it just inspires me.