Right. Slow this down. About two months ago, I was the average teenager;
I was self-involved, body concious, boy-crazed, stressed by exams and - normal.
But now it's January, the beginning of a year. 2010 to be precise.
I'm not sure of anything in my life right now, however there is one thing I am certain of...
...my mum has breast cancer.
And suddenly, I'm not the average teenager. I'm having to help my mum get dressed, I'm independent, I clean, I cook, I make sure my mum's taken her pills, I cry, I worry. I worry for my mum's life. Everyday. Every minute. Every second.
Suddenly, I realise I no longer turn to my friend's for advice or help. This isn't some silly little problem over boys or clothes. This is real life.
I turn to adults, professionals to help me grab hold of the little normality I have. So we can make her better. Because, in the end, that's what all this pain is for.
It's for my best friend, my mum.