Inching my way FORWARD

I have tried them all, but caring for my mother has taught me more about being human than any book or silent retreat, says Lorraine Kearney

-  Lorraine Kearney

I am not a bad person; I could just be... better. A better - person for my loved ones, for the world, and crucially, for me. I have this niggling voice in my head constantly ticking off my selfish acts, and as I have aged, it has started to look back and dredge up ancient instances of casual cruelty as well.

That time I told a girl in my class she wasn't invited to my party because I didn't like her; that awful nickname I gave that lad that stuck for years; those many times I was horrible to my mother.

My mother, I realise now, often bore the brunt of my meanness. Not mean girl meanness - just the ordinary everyday meanness of ordinary everyday teenage girls. And then, one day in my early 20s, I simply decided to ditch the bitch.

Decisions and actions are not always in a happy relationship, however. This was going to take work. But never one to shirk, I threw myself at it.

If there was a yoga retreat, I was there. Self-help course, alternative healing, pick me. I hung out at the Buddhist centre; put dream catchers over my bed. I consoled myself with the knowledge that I was vegetarian.