When you joined us, I’d recently left an emotionally and physically abusive relationship. I didn’t know it at the time, but I was in the grips of undiagnosed PTSD, piled on top of the anxiety and depression I already knew about.
I’m now 33, I’ve been married for 18 months to the loveliest man in the world, I’ve been diagnosed with the things that needed to be diagnosed and I’ve gone through CBT and all that stuff. I’m not healed 100%, maybe I never will be, but I’m happy. I find it difficult not to compare your journey with our club to the journey I’ve been on over the past 9 years.
Watching you take us to the top has been a privilege. You’ve given us some of the best days of our lives, even when the world around us has been sad and scary and lonely.
And so, I tell myself that this had to end at some point, and I can think of no better way to end it than with love for all you’ve done for us, and everything you stand for.
But it’s not time to say goodbye, not just yet. There’s still the small matter of some trophies to attend to.
Thank you, boss. Up the fucking reds.
