Courage

From the age of 13 to 16 I was bullied at school. There was no physical violence but, instead, a constant stream of daily verbal abuse and belittling that destroyed my confidence. There was one main protagonist and he played rugby well enough to represent the school and was praised for his "courage" on the playing field- I remember a sports teacher admirably saying this to me while I was recounting to myself the bully's comments about my family on the bus home the day before.
I was bullied for four years and hated school because of it. I even plucked up the courage to tell my parents and a teacher about it but after only days of respite it continued just as it was before but now I was also a "tout" (I have hated bullies ever since and have made it a promise to myself that I would always challenge exploitation of vulnerable people, whether children or adults- those experiences encouraged me into training to be a nurse). But I went to school every day (well, nearly every day when the thermometer-on-the-lightbulb trick didn't work with Mum). Looking back, I ask myself which one of us had the greater courage- him or me? And I also ask which one of us was respected most for our level of courage?
I have come to realise, since Ruby's death, courage is not about achieving a goal but about overcoming adversity. A clearly identified and desired challenge is an endeavour with a prize at the end (a rugby match, a marathon to run, a mountain to climb)- there are no major surprises, you can plan, there is an end in sight, there is "closure". On the other hand an unknown or undesired challenge (such as  grief) with no identifiable goal, except maybe a return to "normality", is the challenge that truly needs courage to survive.
It has been an act of courage, for me, to go out the house or to say ten words to someone I don' t know or to ask for help from someone I love or to eat a meal or to say the words "before she died".

This is courage- feeling despair and hopelessness and being barely able to lift your limbs off the bed on a morning but then getting up, getting dressed and remaining awake all day. Being courageous means carrying on when you think you can't. You take small steps, put one foot in front of the other, eat, talk,  sleep, plod on, keep going, keep going, keep going and you don't stop. By all means, slow down, but don't stop. And, in time and at some further distance down the winding, stony road, the mist will begin to disperse.