Today is one of those days that I struggle to keep my mood buoyant. From time to time I get overwhelmed by melancholy, a sadness so deep, I just sit and cry. I don't know why this happens, generally I wake up like it, and it persists for a few days and then leaves me as quickly as it arrived.

When this happens, I tend to become very introverted, and inward looking, my ego is as fragile as egg shells, and I search very word and sentence for hidden meaning; confirmation of my flaws, so that I can condemn myself again.

I was watching the conversations on Twitter, and felt totally disconnected from what was being discussed. Increasingly, I have felt like this, as it acts as a constant reminder to unfulfilled dreams.

I think I may be grieving what might have been, had I not got cancer and all the associated side effects which make it impossible for me to draw or garden as a profession.

For many years  I worked in IT, hating what I did, but persisting whilst the kids where young, so that I was there for them as much as I could be, and could help provide them with a standard of living, I could only dream of as a child. I waited almost 10 years, before I gave myself permission to make my dream a reality. Both children were on the cusp of adulthood, and studying for their own dreams to come to fruition.

This was my opportunity, or so I thought - I studied Garden Design, and loved every moment. Being able to explore my creative side, and learning to paint with plants.  Garden Design allowed me to create in 4 dimensions,  not only to paint with; scale, perspective, space, but in time too, to create a picture in nature, that changed as the season changed, each day, almost imperceptibly different, but moving towards the inevitable crescendo, and then falling back to prepare for the next event.

Recently, I have stopped going for all treatment related to Breast Cancer, Lymphodema, and Cellulitis. I had craved freedom from the weekly reminder of how my life had changed, and how different things were now.  I wanted some normality so desperately, so I told my Doctors and Nurses I needed time-out.

I was struck at the Malvern Show, with an overwhelming sense of what I had lost,  and being there seemed to just amplify my feelings of sadness, to such an extent, that  I misinterpreted so much around me it could have caused real problems.   I burst into tears looking at one of the gardens, not because I was overwhelmed by its beauty (although it was beautiful) but at the overwhelming realisation of what I had lost.

Today, I moved away from the computer, when these same feelings of loss began to get the better of me, and went out into the garden. The sun is shining, and a warm breeze blows. I let the hens out the run, and wandered round drinking in the amazing fragrance of the roses.  I noticed lots needed dead heading, so I grabbed my basket and secateurs, and focused my mind at the job in hand. The hens followed me round, hoping to discover a tasty morsel in my wake.

The world looked better, I felt less alone, and more like I belonged here. This was my space, my haven, my sanctuary. I was struck by the beauty of the rose petals even as they faded, in death. The fragrance still clung to the petals, as I placed a handful over my nose and face. The petals, reminded me of my Grandma's powdery cheek, that would brush mine as she kissed us goodnight. I miss her so much too, she died on my 18th birthday. I always felt safe at Grandma's, no fear of violence,  hurt, or pain. Just happy hours helping her in the kitchen, or shucking peas and broad beans on the scullery steps. The garden was my childhood vision of heaven, a typical Edwardian garden, laid out in terraces, with vast lawns, and hedges that towered over me. Roses were everywhere, and in the Spring, the apple and plum blossom littered the orchards like confetti.

Grandma often smelt of roses herself, or violets, or lavender, depending on her mood. These scents always have the power to transport me back to happier times, when I was young and healthy, and had everything to look forward to.

So, why am I rambling? well, I am wondering, can I give all this up. Will the solution to my grief, be to do as I did with the treatment. Leave gardening behind, and with it all my broken dreams and aspirations. Move on, and find a new place to be, and something new to aspire to.

I wish I knew the answer.