Page 51 - She's One Crazy Lady!

Thank goodness her diary was saved and given to her father after the war had ended. For two and half years Anne, a frustrated, yet ordinary teenager, missed so much of her life but, through her writing, was able to capture in words, not just her personal thoughts and feelings, but that of her relationships with those around her and what living together with them, cooped up, was really like. No one could truly imagine what it must have been like.
When I had finished chemotherapy Marilyn and I went on holiday to Amsterdam and visited Anne’s house and secret annexe, something both she and I had always wanted to do. It was a surreal and humbling moment when we stood in the small rooms where Anne had to stay hidden, with ‘Kitty’, the name given to her diary, as her closest friend to comfort her and as a private and personal way of releasing her pent-up feelings and emotions. At just 15 she had such an imaginative and creative mind. Expressing her innermost thoughts came easily.
For many, many years prior to being diagnosed with breast cancer, I kept a very childlike diary – recording things (like having a crush on my dentist!) I wrote all the scores from table tennis matches, things teachers and friends said to me, things I would buy whilst out shopping – on reflection, silly things. I stopped writing when I qualified as a teacher but started again in 2001 after my diagnosis of breast cancer when I felt the need to record all that was suddenly happening
to me and confide to my diary my innermost thoughts – some entries being just a few words – some very explicit. It was a form of therapy, it was calming, and, in a way, it was healing. It felt good to ‘let go’, to write things down that couldn’t be said even to those closest to me. Keeping a journal really helped me, and still does. I know of many people affected by breast cancer who do this, in their own way and I most definitely recommend it. Buy a good quality notebook, find a pen that suits you, find a quiet space to chill out and write as and when you want to. Anne would say:
“I can shake off everything as I write”.
I can still relate to her words.
Years later, when our charity purchased and set up
a beautiful holiday home in Hunstanton for patients to use as a retreat, I recall a conversation I had with a young lady called Emma who had gone to the home for a few days, on her own, to have time for herself, to relax, reflect and to chill out. She said that one day she took herself off to Heacham beach armed with a Sharpie pen. Sitting on the beach she collected a mound of pebbles and one by one, wrote individual words on each of the pebbles with a little decoration. The words she wrote were words that described how she felt about having breast cancer at such a young
“I hope I will be able to confide everything to you as I have never been able to confide in anyone.
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