Karen’s Journal: ‘I don’t think I’d be alive if it wasn’t for New Futures’ – news from the life of one the women we support

Karen – a familiar face here at The New Futures Project – started keeping a diary late last year – having agreed to share it with us, our supporters and the wider community.

Karen – not her real name – is in her early-40s and in poor – but improving – health, chiefly as a result of drug and alcohol use.

She loves dropping into the project to catch up with friends and, more recently, has become a committed and enthusiastic volunteer here.

Here, with characteristic humour and honesty, she looks back over the past few weeks and speaks movingly about her determination to be reunited with her daughter, a friend’s medical emergency and an afternoon spent watching the FA Cup final with her dad.

May 2024 (various undated days)

I have missed a few weeks. So much is going on.

My best friend, let’s call him G. He’s more like my brother than just my best friend.

His lung collapsed, it was terrifying. One minute we were talking, the next he was gasping for air, saying ‘help me, help me, I’m dying’.

999 was called instantly and the 12 minutes they took were scary.

The second he left with paramedics as I was following them out I burst into tears.

It was Em all over again. (Emma,  the love of Karen’s life, died in January 2020. You can read her story here in our Names on the Doors series).

In my moment of fear I called Della at New Futures and just cried – it shows how much I value the project as that’s who I rang when I was in a panic.

I knew they were there for me, to help and support me.

Had to stay strong for G. I went for a coffee and TP (Turning Point – which is supporting Karen with her drug and alcohol issues) on my way to the hospital.

He is on the mend. He had to have keyhole surgery but is recovering. He gave up smoking that day. 

I’m so happy he’s okay. Don’t know what I’d do without him.

Going to sleep now. I’m shattered.

 Another day:

Made American-style choc-chip pancakes with Lisa at New Futures today.

I’ve been spending more and more time there lately. I’m being productive and I’m starting to feel happy for the first time in years.

Della (Director of the New Futures Project) asking me to volunteer at drop-in was seemingly a small thing to others, but to me it was amazing.

Being asked to play a role, feeling that I am in fact wanted somewhere, that I am valued and trusted.

I’ve not had that feeling for years. I am starting to take pride in myself. Its so nice to be wanted, to feel comfortable somewhere. I truly love it.

Della hates it when I say it, but I am putting it in writing now:

Della,

You and Mags (Maggie Brown, our deputy director) have created something truly amazing.

I don’t think I would be alive if it wasn’t for New Futures, so being able to get more involved is great.

You were there with me all through my pregnancy, my days on the beat, my court cases, with my daughter, my LAC (Looked After Child) Review), Emma dying – and now my recovery journey.

Not to forget the time I was ‘cuckooed’ – but, as you might have guessed, ‘that’s another story’.

Thank you New Futures and Della and Maggie.

…And Lisa, Amy, Libby, Clare, Carl, Paula, Avril and Abi. God, so many of you.

Love, Karen.

Anyway, good night. I’m getting my head down now.

Another day:

I am very unorganised. At the beginning of this ‘book’ it was supposed to be a monthly journal, but it’s now five months in and I’ve missed some time here or there.

But to those of you that know me, that is me to a T.

I am getting more reliable as time goes on.

Once upon a time I’d say to someone ‘See you tomorrow’ and then turn up a week later.

My counselling session here at New Futures was at 4pm each week and I was usually here at 4.15pm or 4.25pm. Sometimes, but not very often, 4.01pm.

I remember one day I ran across busy traffic to get in through the door for 3.59pm . I was so proud of myself.

I never realised how hard it would be to write a book. I start saying one thing and then start rambling on about something else.

The number of ‘another stories’ I have to tell is unreal. One good thing though, I’ll never run out of things to say.

I’ve been thinking a lot about myself and my life lately. I’m 43 years old and I need to fix up. 

I’m thinking that my daughter will be 13 in the year 2031. I know, I can feel it, she will bunk off school, use her dinner money to get to me, to find me – her mama. I know she will.

After all, she’s her mama’s daughter and that’s exactly what I would do.  I dream about the day we are reunited, me and my beautiful little angel.

It’s my goal to work towards, making me a better person – not drinking, not taking drugs, not having health issues.

I need to be a better person. I want her to be proud of me.

It’s not like I let her go. The system ‘screwed me over’. But, guess what, that’s another story!

Another day:

I spent years sinking into a pit of depression, but I need to fix up. I was thinking ‘I’m 43 years old and I’ve got nothing, everything is s**t. What’s the point?’

But my dad is 85 years old, so when, not if, I live to that age then it means I’ll have had the same number of years I’ve had so far. I have an entire life ahead of me.

So I’m being positive, I’m looking to the future. It’s difficult because it’s so easy just to think ‘f**k it’.

I want to be better. My daughter will see I didn’t let all this sink me, but instead I used these years to make myself the best possible version of myself.

She will call me ‘mama’ again. She will know that I love her and that we will make up for lost time by spending every second of every minute, every hour of every day making memories, making up for lost time.

Don’t get me wrong, my recovery will be a long journey. I’ve already spent one year doing counselling and I’ve only scratched the surface.

But I will do it.

The final diary entry for this month:

Well, May is almost over, can’t believe almost half of 2024 has gone so quick.

I remember my dad telling me once: “The older you get, the quicker the years go.” At the time, my 16th birthday was a few months away and I told him I couldn’t wait until I was 16.

He told me: “Don’t wish time away.” He was right.

Each year seems to go quicker and quicker. Life is short, so make the most of your time because it will be gone before you know it. 

My dad, it’s as if he blinked and he’s now 85 years old. 

His dementia is getting worse each day. It’s like watching him waste away. It’s so sad.

We watched the FA Cup final together, Manchester City v Manchester United.

I support United and they won 2-0! But, having my dad with me for the day was the magic.

Contact The New Futures Project on 0116 251 0803 or send us a message at: info@new-futures.org.uk

You can find us at 71 London Road, Leicester, LE2 0PE.

We publish a monthly newsletter to tell the stories of the women we support and to round up all the things we’ve been doing. 

Sign up here to have it delivered to your inbox at the end of every month.