I can already feel the ball of grief getting bigger in my stomach. How quickly has it come around, it was only the other week that it was your brother's birthday and I am now turning my attention to the fact you are going to be 8.
8 years old. I have been on this rollercoaster of motherhood for almost 8 years. Unless you count the 9 months you were in my tummy.
I always say you are the best thing to ever happen to me. Your death was the worst thing. Being your mummy is the greatest role I could have ever have asked for.
I often read the stories about Madeline McCann and I draw parallels from their journey into mind. Except, I know you are dead and I have somewhere I can go to be with you. Kate wrote how she still buys Madeline birthday and Christmas presents and they are piled in her room, for when she comes home. She has the belief, the want and the desire to believe that she will come home one day and see how much she was loved in the 10 years that she has been gone.
And then I look at my life and I wonder would you and your brother see the same. I know you both can't come home. You have lots of different homes. You live in the cemetery, where your bodies are buried. Your souls fly free and I hope are always with us. I imagine you live in my Granny's house, with the field next door and its nothing but sunshine, rainbows and happy days. And of course, there is the home that is buried in my heart and soul.
Just like the famous lines from E.E. Cummings... "I carry your heart with me, (I carry it in
my heart), I am never without it..."
My therapist recommended a book to me, its entitled 'Overcoming Grief' and the title gripes me.
Can you ever overcome grief? Do I want to overcome it, surely is the question...
I explained to her that for me, everything is entwined in one. The good memories, the bad memories, the positive and negative emotions. The flashbacks, the pain, the anger... I don't want to let the negatives go because it is entwined so I feel I am also letting go of the positive. Which means letting go off them.
One of the bereaved parents I am very good friends with, is deservedly, feeling a lot of anger at the moment. I felt his pain, his anger, the way he blogged to make people understand that it wasn't about them, it was about his child who died. I don't have the raw anger anymore and told him I feel more passive about everything. Emotionally numb is probably the right phrase. I am past the raw anger stage, I have the why me anger instead.
I saw a powerful quote the other day which summarised what it is like to be on this 'journey' so to speak...
"Grief is not a nuisance, an obstacle or a mess that can be easily rectified. It is a way of life. It is everything you never thought could happen but did anyway"
We all live in this bubble where we believe that things will never happen to us. I never thought that I would be writing this blog about how the deaths of my two sons, shaped my life and the highs and lows it brings since their deaths, since their sister was born and my mental health struggles since.
Social media allows us to be open, without having to be open. I struggle to say outloud when I am having a bad day or I am struggling... be it mental health, grief, loss, life in general but it is funny how sharing a post, or a meme can tell the world that life isn't great at that point, or it can tell them that life is okay.
So this is me, saying life is okay but its not. In 12 days time, I am celebrating another birthday without you.
But it is also the start of 142 days worth of memories of you.
You were real.
You existed.
You lived.
Sunday 30 April 2017
Thursday 27 April 2017
iTalk
I have an iTalk session today.
This is my therapy sessions and initially they were very helpful and helped me to see things in a different light. It also gave me a diagnosis.
However, before Christmas, she felt we needed to focus more on one area than just general therapy. She felt we needed to tackle my agoraphobia.
We did.
It was hard.
But I am now able to go to my local town without having a panic attack or anxiety attack. I can even go alone. Something I wasn't able to do a year ago. So I am probably where I was 2 years ago. I still cannot go to the big town or to my local Asda (its huge and it petrifies me). She asked if we could tackle these areas but I said to her the thought of Asda freaks me out completely. And as for the big town... she doesn't understand that yes we can work on consisitent exposure for it and I may be able to conquer it but its not somewhere I go often enough so that if I did conquer it then I may not go for 3 or so months. So it feels defeatist to begin it. I have taken baby steps when we do go and I feel that she has given me the tools to work through it when I do go.
So she asked, what did I want to get out of the sessions now.
The answer is to feel normal.
But I don't think that is possible.
I overthink things. I worry incessantly about things. I like to "control" things so I know where everything is, what is happening when, that I have what I need. I have OCD - but I like my house tidied the way I like it tidy. I like things in order so its easy to find and locate. I hate mess (and the current state of my house prickles at me but the curse of redecorating!).
I hate the fact that their birthdays and anniversaries bring up flashbacks and memories. But then I like that because it reminds me that they were here. The heartbreak is a reminder of the loss of them, and is immeasurable to the love I have for them.
I hate PTSD. I hate the bad memories. I hate reliving his death. I panic when I see an ambulance. I want everyone to move out of the way, because I was in there once. I don't remember the journey but what if someone being in our way, would have made a difference. But realistically, I know he was gone before we got into that ambulance.
But all of this is entwined with them. If I 'fix' it, what will happen to them? Will they not exist? But of course they existed and they do exist.
Everyone sees me as this strong woman, but I am far from it. I feel like I am threading water, but the performance of being a strong woman is so good, I think I convince myself most of the time.
I worry about my husband. He is depressed. I feel like I need to stop focusing on me because I need to help him, help himself.
I feel like I have too many pennies in the pot right now, they all add up but they need to stay in the pot because I need to save him. I need to save my marriage.
This is my therapy sessions and initially they were very helpful and helped me to see things in a different light. It also gave me a diagnosis.
However, before Christmas, she felt we needed to focus more on one area than just general therapy. She felt we needed to tackle my agoraphobia.
We did.
It was hard.
But I am now able to go to my local town without having a panic attack or anxiety attack. I can even go alone. Something I wasn't able to do a year ago. So I am probably where I was 2 years ago. I still cannot go to the big town or to my local Asda (its huge and it petrifies me). She asked if we could tackle these areas but I said to her the thought of Asda freaks me out completely. And as for the big town... she doesn't understand that yes we can work on consisitent exposure for it and I may be able to conquer it but its not somewhere I go often enough so that if I did conquer it then I may not go for 3 or so months. So it feels defeatist to begin it. I have taken baby steps when we do go and I feel that she has given me the tools to work through it when I do go.
So she asked, what did I want to get out of the sessions now.
The answer is to feel normal.
But I don't think that is possible.
I overthink things. I worry incessantly about things. I like to "control" things so I know where everything is, what is happening when, that I have what I need. I have OCD - but I like my house tidied the way I like it tidy. I like things in order so its easy to find and locate. I hate mess (and the current state of my house prickles at me but the curse of redecorating!).
I hate the fact that their birthdays and anniversaries bring up flashbacks and memories. But then I like that because it reminds me that they were here. The heartbreak is a reminder of the loss of them, and is immeasurable to the love I have for them.
I hate PTSD. I hate the bad memories. I hate reliving his death. I panic when I see an ambulance. I want everyone to move out of the way, because I was in there once. I don't remember the journey but what if someone being in our way, would have made a difference. But realistically, I know he was gone before we got into that ambulance.
But all of this is entwined with them. If I 'fix' it, what will happen to them? Will they not exist? But of course they existed and they do exist.
Everyone sees me as this strong woman, but I am far from it. I feel like I am threading water, but the performance of being a strong woman is so good, I think I convince myself most of the time.
I worry about my husband. He is depressed. I feel like I need to stop focusing on me because I need to help him, help himself.
I feel like I have too many pennies in the pot right now, they all add up but they need to stay in the pot because I need to save him. I need to save my marriage.
