I am one of two children and am the youngest, three years my sister, Chloe’s junior and by default carry along with me the label that suggests an array of stereotypes. I will leave you to work your way through them.

A sister relationship is a special bond that no one can break, but that doesn’t mean that there aren’t any bumps in the road. The bumps in mine and my sisters journey have been a mixture of funny and serious but we have solidified a rather glorious relationship now we are both in our mid 20s.

Chloe has always been protective of me, for as long as I can remember she has made sure that I was ok first, before sorting herself out, this has sometimes been begrudgingly but I have always taken it, I’ve always taken it without much of a thought and am extremely aware of the attention that I have stole from the whole family for most of my life. Up until Chloe moved out a few years ago, she was quite understated, she lived a very quiet, inspiring yet reserved existence, allowing stresses to wash over her without requiring too much support and standing extremely strong through tough times without so much of a mention of vulnerability. Chloe was the first in my Dad’s side of the family to attend university and overcame a lot of her mental and confidence barriers by moving away, however I still believe that the best thing she ever did was move out of the family home a few years ago. She acquired an independence, confidence and voice that can carry for bloody miles. I am so proud of the person she has always been but seeing her grow in the past 5 years has been one of my greatest pleasures.

I find it hard not living with Chloe, since I turned 18 we solidified a strong relationship that meant we opened up to each other but also could have all of the fun. So when she moved out, and I subsequently moved back from university it gave my whole home life a completely different dynamic. I was pleased for her though, she could finally get away from having a younger sister whom was always going to require and demand the attention.

When I started to slip this year, Chloe was one of the first to notice. She didn’t directly confront me about it, but I knew she knew. We don’t speak everyday, but the girl can read me like a book and notices changes in me that I honestly believe others can’t. She was gently supportive and gave me very slight nudges to take care of myself and maybe slow down. Needless to say this was advise I should have taken earlier than I did.

Chloe found out I had reached a real low with my depression through our mum, she ended up messaging me subtly on a daily basis asking how I was but not placing any pressure on me to reply. We didn’t speak too much and I got through the real lows completely on my own, which I think is the only way you can. She did come to visit me though, she came to visit me and stayed for a weekend, she laid with me, she stroked my hair, she massaged my gross feet and made me glasses of squash even when I didn’t want them. She encouraged me to get outside and made it easy for me to say “I’m not feeling well today”, I opened up to her about how suicidal I had felt and how let down I was by some of my friends. Chloe held my hand, for a long time. She didn’t let go. She made me laugh. She made me laugh for the first time in 3 weeks.

Chloe made me feel that weekend like maybe, just maybe there was a way out of this. That maybe there was some hope. It couldn’t be like this forever.

She left on a Sunday, and she hugged me in a way she never had before, she held me a little longer and a little tighter than she ever had. When I pulled away I noticed that her eyes had glassed over. Chloe didn’t want to leave me, she was feeling the same as always, she wanted to protect me, look after me, and didn’t want me to be hurting. She also let go a bit, she had clearly held on for the weekend, listening to me, taking it in and standing ever so strong, but knowing she had to go, must of hurt.

But again, it’s all been about me. The past couple of months have all been about me.

I worry at times, that I take my eye off the ball with my responsibility to her, that she leads a very stressful life, and she needs looking after just like we all do. Chloe is the most selfless, all forgiving and loving woman, she would give anything to help and most of the time, to a detriment to her own wellbeing. And I hope she realises that without her, I don’t think there would be a me.

I guess this is an open letter to her, to thank her, to acknowledge her. I should do it more. This is to apologise to her for taking more than I should, and to thank her for saving me my whole life, but for saving me wholeheartedly this time. It’s for all of you sisters, friends, mothers, aunties, partners, anyone. Anyone who gives their absolute all to the people they love. Anyone supporting people they love through bad mental health journeys, bad physical health journeys or just bad journeys. Please know you are just completely appreciated, loved and inspiring. You are incredible. But please, most of all, take care of yourselves, reach out to us. You do an unbelievable job of holding the umbrella to protect us from the rain, but please squeeze under too, I promise there is room.

This is for all Chloe’s out there, this is for Chloe the Lifeline.

Hang in there.

Ellen on the Edge xx