What do you do when the one person you loved unconditionally, always relied on and was always there for you leaves?
I don’t mean like…okay bye…have a nice life…ill probably get drunk and call you later kind of leaving.
I mean their soul leaves and their body stops.
• You cant get drunk and call them later
• You cant go stake out their house in the hope of a glimpse or restraining order
• You can’t accidently (on purpose) bump into them at the gym looking all awesome in your super tight pants
• You can’t text them and watch them read it and ignore you still (but at least they read it right?)
• You can’t cling on to the hope that one day it might all work out and you’ll live happily ever after with 3 dogs and a Jacuzzi in the back yard.
Instead you are faced with the crippling reality that they are gone forever.
• No more hello’s
• No more goodbye’s
• No more I love you
• No more tomorrow’s
• No more memories
• No more hugs
The only blanket around you for comfort is called the ‘what if wanker’, who rears its ugly head in moments of vulnerability. Moments that are inappropriate or at times when you are completely alone.
Those mundane moments that you’ve done every day without thought are now like your riding a really high rollercoaster up and down this what if wanker.
Just when you feel you cant hold on any longer and you cant breathe in any more air without combusting, you coast over the peak and drop vertically. Your body straining as a tornado starts to form, you hit the rocky bottom raising a massive tidal wave that crashes through your eyes and down your cheeks; Overwhelming your entire body and mind with no courtesy that your in a public place or trying to sleep.
Before you can compose yourself, you’re back on the incline of the next what if wanker…struggling to cope, desperate to breathe, fearing for your life.
Over and over and over again.
No control, Relentless, Ruthless
There’s no exit off this ride, this is your life now.
• How do you cope?
Well my first plan was to bottle it up and sell it off cheap to the nearest sucker…….until I ran out of bottles……. stupid bottles…….
What I was faced with then was 6 months worth of bottled emotion all overflowing out of me without any control.
No amount of beavers could help me.
Niagara falls had new competition.
My once strong foundations were riddled with termites and buckling under the pressure, desperate to pour out. People started returning the cheap bottles and I was surrounded by bottles and bottles of emotions.
Nowhere to turn without seeing bottled emotion
Too much pressure
Lots of pain
What happens to anything that’s put under extreme pressures for a long time?
Yes, it breaks.
Safe to say I shattered into a million pieces.
So here I am in a million pieces scattered everywhere on the ground, my only option is to find small bits of me each day (before the ants runaway with my best bits) and start rebuilding myself.
Piece by piece, Step by step, Day by day.
The what if wankers will come, they will overwhelm me and they will hurt me but I must try to let go and allow the ride to pass.
Ignoring what people will think of me when I’m overwhelmed and overcome with the grief in a random place.
To the women in the supermarket who turned down aisle 3 to see a broken girl crying at a tube of toothpaste, I saw you. I saw you see me, freeze and quickly turn around and walk the other way. I don’t care that you thought I was a crazy person.
Do you know me? Do you know what I’m going through? Did you bother to take 30 seconds out if your day to ask if I was ok?
No – it’s okay I would have told you I was fine anyway.
To the leaf (yes, from a tree) that blew past me in the dark that made me jump, which resulted in an arm swing, that knocked a cyclist off his bike, thanks for snapping me out of a bad gripping memory.
To the cyclist who got angry with me when I apologised and explained a leaf scared me.
Do you know me? Do you have any idea what I’m going through to jump over a blowing leaf in the wind? Did you bother to check if I was ok?
No – but its okay I would of said I was fine anyway.
To anyone out there riding the rollercoaster of grief, let it come and go. It’s the only advice I can give.
My theory is the more I can allow my rollercoaster to take me through this ride, the more strength I’ll gain from every turn.
Eventually building up a tolerance so that the incline doesn’t take all my breath away and the drop doesn’t shatter me quite so hard. (I’m using super powered glue to stick myself back together)
No matter what part of my ride I am on, I will always be there to ask:
Are you ok?
That’s what makes the broken so beautiful, not just on the outside but inside to. We understand.
I can’t speak for any of you but I see the world a lot differently now.
I feel the fresh air on the face, I taste the rain and I watch the nature and people around me pass by.
My perspective on life has changed.
P.s – I knew there was a reason why I never liked rollercoasters…..