A Little Bit of Me

Lost in my own grief I haven’t been seeing the grief of the others around me. We had a second loss just before Christmas and selfishly I didn’t fully see what my mum was going through. I new she was struggling and had taken time off work because of it but I honeslty didn’t know the full extent of it. I don’t think I ever will. But to find something out today that honestly shocked me and made me see how much she wasn’t talking about her grief for the loss at Christmas was really sad. Everything is so closed off. Nothing is fully spoken about. It’s the denial of  “I’m doing ok “ when asked how we are doing. Things like this should be spoken about, shouted from the roof tops. The fact that my own mother couldn’t even speak out is sad. I feel so bad for being so wrapped up in his anniversary and moving house, important things like asking how people are, and actually listening shouldn’t be ignored. I got and gave the same answer    “ it’s ok” Everyone goes through grief t...

In high school we had a deaf unit and it always interested me that using your hands to speak was a way of the people in the unit to communicate. I managed to learn some signs and could vaguely get myself understood but not as much as I’d liked. There was a lunch time club that allowed hearing pupils to learn to sign and I got involved. Knowing some sign language helped when I was volunteering through school and was able to help when people couldn’t communicate. I took a night class in bsl but failed the exam because I couldn’t remember the questions that the lecturer had asked and couldn’t communicate the amount that was wanted. From then honeslty I lost the signs that I had. Failing the course put me off learning more because I wasn’t able to answer simple questions and what good is that. I still use some signs if I need to but not as much as I’d known. I would love to learn more and be able to have a conversation but the thoughts of failing the class have put me off and that’s sa...

(I’m writing this now as I don’t think that I will be able to next week) 2 years ago I lost you.  My world fell apart and you were no longer by myside. You fought the hardest battle but in the end the fight got to much. And the fight turned then to me. The difference being where as I had been by your side through out the nine months you were no longer beside me and the fight was now a one person fight. The hours, days months and now years without being able to hug you, speak to you or even look into your blue eyes have been tough. We were the couple that fought life together. Friends before you eventually saw sense (much to all our friends relief) I am just so thankful that we had the time that we did before and during our marriage. You were my best friend / soul mate, and without you I feel so alone. We had so much planned for life and that night cut everything short. To see you in so much pain and not able to help hurt deep inside me. Having physically hold you down as they t...

Thinking tonight about the next few weeks and how I’ve been leading up to the 4th April. To say my emotions have been all over the shop is an understatement. I can be up one minute and low the next and sometimes at the drop of a hat. Being back at our flat getting ready to leave it, is hard and getting the last bits packed up feels like an abrupt end. I’ve always known that I would be moving and that I would need to pack everything up and get rid of everything that wasn’t needed. I’ve struggled with the feelings of being alone and the fear of not having anyone around me once I move. Although family are near by to have someone around every day, someone to just have a chat with seems to be something that I’m craving. And the guilt of me being here and still living compared to him was something that I’ve been struggling with but without even realising it. That was the kicker to the heart and at full force. My mental health has had me questioning / doubting myself and what I’m capa...

Over this last weekend I had a family member helping at the flat. Getting things ready for the move and referencing mine instead of ours caught me mega of gard. We were talking about the Christmas tree that is boxed up and whether it was coming with me or not. A bloody Christmas tree reduced me to tears. People say it can be the simplest of things that may set off emotions. Well they were right. There hasn’t been anyone at my place for months helping with the move so having someone there and referring to everything as mine set off all sorts of emotions that took the rest of the weekend to sort themselves out. And I’m under no illusion that they will surface there ugly heads again, and want to fight me for every ounce of inner strength that I have. It wasn’t a problem getting rid of the “junk” that the hubby had kept in the flat. Me and his family had a right laugh at some of the stuff. But now to refer to it as my stuff, mine is a whole other way of thinking. For as much as my head...

Out with family there is no place to talk about my grief and mental health. I’ve been let down by support that i tried to get when John died. And the mental health side apart from psychology and psychiatry (which will be ending soon) there is no place for me to turn. If I have a bad day I’m on my own as I don’t always open up to family about it. There is no place that I can get in touch and speak to someone or some place to go that I don’t have to explain when I just want a place to be but not have to speak. I reached out and got the initial appointment to speak to someone after John died but even that was after a considerable wait. Then no one got back in touch. That was nearly two years ago. I did speak to someone at McMillan about it but it didn’t feel like I got a lot of it. The fact that they’d known him in some respects didn’t help. I feel like talking about it now just makes everyone either sad or just acknowledge me for so long. There is days when I just want to shout it loud...

It is official, I’ve given my notice to give up my flat that I shared with my late husband and have a date to get the keys to my new place (the day before his second anniversary) To say I am a mix of emotions is an understatement. I am struggling to finish packing the last of my stuff up and feel enthusiastic about moving to new place.  My heart is heavy, my depression is having its own party inside me and I feel like hiding from it all and not deal with it. I feel like I’m leaving him and everything that we had. The guilt about me moving on is horrible because he isn’t getting to. My next chapter starts soon and his book finished and that makes me sad.  It’s taken me nearly two years to even find a place that I thought I could live in by myself that wasn’t a constant reminder of what I’d lost. Even agreeing on the lease brought me to tears and kept me to myself for a good few days after as I tried to process how I was.  I know he’d want me to move on but it’s so har...