Letter to my mum

This time last year I was laying next to your bed, in intensive care, being told that your kidneys have failed, your lungs were in respiratory failure and there was nothing more they could do for you.

Crying hysterically at your side as my body started going into shock to protect my heart from exploding. I couldn’t begin to image not seeing you everyday, not having you in my life for many many more years to come. I needed you. I was not ready to be without you.

The 14th of April 2017 was officially the worst day of my life. The day a piece of my heart died with you.

I miss you mum with every beat of my heart,

The pain i feel is indescribable, i hate being apart.

What i wouldn’t give to have one more hug,

One more kiss, one more moment of love.

That feeling of being safe,

Of feeling like you have a homely place.

To see your name pop up on my phone,

To hear your voice; happy, sad, angry or just for a general moan.

You never judged me,

You helped me to see,

A world of love and memories.

Always there to hold my hand,

To be my strength when i felt i was sinking in heavy wet sand.

You were my best friend,

My angel god send.

I hate life without you,

Its a lonely place without my mummy Sue.

I love you mummy with all my heart, i hope you are ok even though we are apart. i hope you have found grampy up there and aren’t causing too much chaos.

Thank you for showing me what strength and courage are and for the upmost love you gave me everyday.

You were my best friend, my pillar of strength.

I miss you deeply everyday mum!

I’ll try to keep making you proud.

I’ll take you with me on all my journeys and together we will take no shit!

I am so lucky to have had a mum like you, so caring and understanding.

You were taken from me way too soon 😦

‘A’s Easter twist

Happy Easter to you all!

Its a weird one isn’t it? (she says munching on a hot cross bun with a chocolate egg for dessert……)

Everywhere you look today there are people posting pictures of their chocolate on Facebook or Instagram. Since Boxing day we have been surrounded by sweet treats, bunnies and chicks.

It’s made me wonder how celebrating Easter became more about the Easter bunny delivering chocolate eggs and not the crucifixion of Jesus and his rise from the dead?

Easter this year is uncomfortable for me but i am trying to stay positive. The mind is such a powerful part of us and it can easily lead us down a dark path, when infact the sun is shining brightly around us.

Good Friday of 2017 (what an asshole), I was saying goodbye to my mum and its ironic because every year at Easter i would ask my mum about Jesus;

“Which day was he crucified again mum?”

“Why was he crucified again mum?”

“Which day was it again mum that he rose from the dead?”

Every year she would roll her eyes, tut at me and tell me the story all over again, it became a routine. For some reason i always forgot…

Last year on Good Friday i was praying she would rise from the dead on Easter Sunday! No such luck. Was it my mum having the last laugh? I’ll never forget it now that’s for sure.

Now i know Easter changes so its not exactly the same time as last year but i still feel sad and ‘A’ wants me to re’hash the memories and overthink the details. Instead i am trying my new approach of thinking. In my previous post ‘A’s mind games i detailed this approach and the cause and effect of our mind games.

Today i have the power to waste my day obsessing over the details of last years Easter, getting upset and spiraling down a negative thought pattern or i can take a moment and let the thoughts come and go. (The importance being – of letting them go!)

Is it uncomfortable? Yes but it doesn’t have to engulf my whole day and the rest of my life.

At the moment I have the upper hand with ‘A’ because I have spotted its pattern of destruction therefore eliminating the element of surprise it normally has on me. (HAHA IN YOUR FACE ‘A’!!!)

I’ve previously mentioned that i have been journalling all my life! i have hundreds of diaries spanning my life time and its probably one of the best decisions i ever made.

Are a lot of them full of trivia? Oh gosh yes!! Its a great read!!

They also provide me with a huge release; sometimes the only way we can rid ourselves of intrusive thoughts, overthinking and ‘what if’ scenarios is to write them down. I looked back at this day last year, not the date, but Easter Sunday, (which was a risky move because it could have fueled ‘A’ into overdrive) and what i read has really started to make me think about how amazing our life is…

It seems more relevant today than any other day.

I will share my journal entry with you……
” Sunday 16th April 2017
There are no words, there is no pain, I feel nothing.
I am completely numb.
Everytime i close my eyes I see you mum, or is it everytime I wake I see you mum? Which is reality?
It doesn’t feel real, I don’t feel real, is this my life?
How am I surviving this??? “

I felt numb for a long time, I literally felt nothing. Everyone around me was waiting for me to break but I didn’t. (I was clearly fueled by Duracell batteries…)

How incredible is the mind and body, that they can go into survival mode without you even realising? How it can protect you without your say so?

I watched my mum die, I lay with her body afterwards for 5 hours (in the hospital, nothing weird) and then my body walked me home.

The inner strength we have is incredible.

Don’t you think so?

I then spent the next 4 weeks organising my mum’s funeral, sorting out all her paperwork, finances, house etc. I picked new clothes for her to wear, I contacted everyone she ever knew to tell them and then I stood up at her funeral and read out a poem I had written for her. Not once did I break.

Yet since reality hit me ( new years eve 2017) I have felt like a bus has knocked me down, followed by a steam train and then a heard of elephants for laughs. ‘A’ has been telling me to feel this way now even though its been so long, people around me and telling me it cant be because of my mum as that was ages ago! (Idiots!!!)

I would not have survived this feeling this time last year. My body now feels ready to accept reality and here I am.

I will never be the same person I was before 2017 struck but that’s okay.

I don’t want to be, I am re-born into a beautiful survivor and I am proud of where I’ve come from.

We are amazing. Our mind and body is incredible.

Have you ever sat back for five minutes and thought about it?

With Easter being about the celebration of Jesus and life itself, i wanted to dedicate this post to all of you….

YOU ARE AMAZING!

Ignore the demons, ignore the negativity and remember that within you there is strength.

I thank Jesus Christ for my inner strength and I trust that God’s plan will guide me to happiness but it starts from within.

You have to let the love in first, go on, I dare you to!

Learn to praise yourself, learn to see the good and train that brain to erase the bad. Its hard work, ill be honest with you, but its so so so so so worthwhile!!

You can do it.

One breath at a time

One step at a time
One day at a time

Springing into action

A few weeks have passed since I went *under construction*, a time where I have tried to celebrate the awesome parts of myself and ignored the negativity coming from ‘A’.

Throughout the past couple of weeks I have seen a HUGE improvement within myself.

This has been as a result of a few changing elements:

  1. I went back onto medication
  2. I went back to therapy
  3. I quit my job
  4. I attended church

All massive elements that impact your life 100%, wouldn’t you agree?

Here’s my journey so far……..

1. Medication

I didn’t make this decision lightly, if you have read any of my previous posts you will remember I was on medication for a long long time and decided I was ready to come off at the start of 2016. This went smoothly and I was living a medication free life, the happiest I had ever been (even with a few moments of anxiety). My plan was to be able to manage my anxiety symptoms by myself, as they arise, and get stronger and more like Wonder Woman after every attack. (I didn’t quite master the Wonder Woman part…)

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I lost my mum very suddenly in April 2017 and for the most part of 2017 I was coping, I was surprising absolutely everyone. I was a strong machine of numbness and denial and I thought I was winning the grief battle. (hahahahahahaha as if right?)

Que New years eve 2017…..10…9…8…7…6…5…4…3…2…1…….HAPPY NEW YEAR……….WAIT……WHAT………..

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!

I went crashing into 2018 with a hard hit from reality, a realisation that I wouldn’t have my mum by my side. After that everything was a massive blur of sadness, tiredness, isolation and guilt. I tried to carry on for a while but I simply wanted to die.

My unwanted hitchhiker was attacking constantly, I feared everything, I couldn’t leave the house, I couldn’t wash, I wanted to die but feared death at the same time. One Sunday evening in early February I stood in the kitchen holding a knife having visions of killing myself…Monday morning I was at the doctors.

Since then I have been battling with the side effects, one being increased anxiety, suicidal thoughts and crazy vivid dreams. I preserved and stayed strong and have finally come out the other end.

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I am on the lowest dose possible and I’m starting to feel a difference.

I know it was the right decision to make now I am here.

Why do we torture ourselves?

Why do we listen to others instead of our own bodies crying out for help?

Everyone around me was saying:
“don’t choose medication”
“it will just mask the symptoms”
“it will pass”
“just think positively”
“chin up”

….blah blah blah…..more like…………

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2. Religion

All my childhood I grew up surrounded mostly by Atheists, I knew no different. I even got dumped by a boy in school because I had no idea who Jesus was. (abit harsh I thought). My mum was Catholic and started attending church when she split up with my father but I wasn’t living with her at the time.

It was during one of the side effects of my medication – vivid horrible dreams, that I found religion. I was having a very emotional dream about my mum, she was crying and saying her goodbyes to me, telling me how proud she was of me, how she loved me and never wanted to leave me (a moment I never got when she died). In my dream I was crying my eyes out and awoke with a crash and a sob, it felt so real. Whilst dreaming I had managed to knock over my bed side table, at the time I was so emotionally raw I got out of bed to get some water. I was sobbing uncontrollably, I felt so sick. when I returned I put my bedside table back where it belonged and noticed a book had fallen out and opened up. I picked it up to discover it was my mum’s bible and it had opened up at the start of John. So i read it.

Just from reading the book of John I felt stronger, I felt as though there was hope for the first time in 12 months. I was interested to learn more so I visited my local church and have been attending bible study ever since.

I know religion isn’t for everyone, but it seems to be helping me. I ignore the remarks, the smirks and the talking behind my back from my atheist family. God has reached out to me and I welcome him into my heart.

3. Therapy

As a person I am better at helping others, I get strength from being needed and being helpful. I can listen and offer encouragement, I can guide and offer support. Easy Peasy.

I can’t however lean on others for the sake of myself. I cant reach out, I cant let others in and I keep everything close to my chest and in my head. It’s just how I am made. I have realised that although i don’t want to be a burden to anyone, not talking about what i’m going through has only set me back further, and only damaged myself more, so I decided to give counselling a go.

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It’s tough, my goodness it’s tough. The first couple of sessions I was like one of those old shaky dogs waiting outside the supermarket for its owner. It was uncomfortable and emotional and it brought horrible sensations along with it. I haven’t given up though.

I am learning techniques to be able to manage my anxiety and my grief side by side and after 8 sessions so far I am starting to see/feel a difference.

Again people around me told me:
“counselling wont help”
“it will make you feel worse”
“why would you want to talk about it?”
“it’s a waste of money”

They are right, for some people, counselling doesn’t work, makes people feel worse and wastes their money but for me? It is helping.

Did it make me feel worse to start with? Hell yes!

Did I want to talk about it? No!

It’s helping me and that’s all that matters. I choose to ignore people’s comments and opinions because they are not me and they do not know what is right for me.

We are the only people who know whats right for us. Don’t let others opinions manipulate you into not doing something you want to do.

ITS YOUR LIFE.

4. Jobless

It’s pretty scary to quit your job without another job to go to right? Most people are unhappy in their jobs and just get on with it right? Some people spend their days wishing their weeks away until the weekend right? Wrong.

If your job is making you ill you shouldn’t have to endure it just because everyone else apparently hates their jobs but they get on with it. You don’t need to pull yourself together and you certainly dont need to get a grip.

My job made me ill, I was a ball of anxiety from the minute I left the house until the minute I got home (sometimes longer…), I was constantly run down, constantly negative and I hated everyone around me. I spent hours in the toilets trying to hold it together, trying to calm anxiety attacks and get my breath back. If you can deal with that everyday and still go to work and live your life fine, then good for you. I couldn’t.

So I quit. I have re-evaluated my life and what’s important to me and realised i need to be kinder to myself, i always try to do too much and it comes crashing down. I am always way too hard on myself to prove to everyone that I can succeed. Do they even care? Probably not! So I’ve decided to look for part-time work instead, this will give me a chance to work on myself more and build myself back up to the awesome person I once was.

I will never be the “2016 happy girl” I was striving to get back, she’s gone, but I can be the “now girl”, a new and improved wonder woman machine. I cut my hair, us girls know what that means… I’m ready and serious to change my life!

Baby steps though….

One step at a time

One day at a time

I’ve spent way too long trying to prove to others I am ‘normal’ that I can succeed the way they want me to. Well screw them, not any more, I will strive to be my weird and wonderful unique self and the only success will be for me.

Who wants to be ‘normal’ anyway?!

Don’t ever let others dictate your happiness, or try to steer you away from a decision that you feel is best for you (unless that decision is life threatening!!)
Be yourself

You are unique, You are powerful, Your are beautiful

Find what feels good and stick with it.

Even if it does turn heads and start people talking….

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‘Under Construction’

Ever since I lost my dear mum, I have been striving to get back to that person, the person who had her shit together, the person who was strong,  the person who felt happiness in her life.

With Mother’s day looming, what I have finally realised is that I am being too hard on myself.

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I am never going to get back to the person I was before the loss, how can I? I have lost one of the most important people in my life, I have lost the only person who cared for me and the only person who was there for me day in day out, through good times and bad, through stupid decisions and great ideas, through the I told you so moments, through the come here have a hug and let it all out moments.

There is never going to be someone in my life whose whole existence was to take care of me, who I wanted to make proud every single day. There is never going to be someone who I love as much or who loves me unconditionally; even when I am being an utter monster.

I need to stop trying to get back to what I think is normal me, erase that idea and start building a new me.

A me I am proud of

A me that I love unconditionally

A me who will always be there for me

A me who is a survivor

A me who is a fighter (even at times I didn’t want to fight)

A me who has somehow still managed to live my life without my mum

A me who is strong (even at times when I have been my weakest)

I don’t give myself enough credit for going through such a sudden loss and still being here today.

Is my life a mess? 100%

Is my mental health shattered? 100%

Am I an emotional wreck all the time? 100%

Have I given up? NO. – I don’t give myself enough credit for that.

Have I been able to do this without the help of medication? NO – but I tried my hardest for months on end and I couldn’t function.

I know my mum would want me to take medication to pick me back up because she knows it will only be temporary, she knows I am strong, she knows I am the most stubborn MOFO to exist and will want to conquer this. I get all those amazing traits from her. Even at the end she fought so hard.

I miss my mum every single second of every waking moment, I even dream of her when I am asleep. It’s never nice dreams at the moment but I know with time it will ease, I know with time the feeling that my body is splitting into two will ease also, I just have to weather the storm.

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Last mother’s day, my mum was too unwell to celebrate it, a week later she was taken into hospital and never returned home.

So to all who are reading this, don’t wait for Mother’s day; ring your mum, go visit your mum, tell her you love her, hug her that extra second longer because one day who’ll think back to those last moments and wish you’d held on. I never got to say goodbye to my mum, I never got to tell her it was ok and that I loved her very much one last time and that will forever stay an unfinished chapter in my life.

Did my mum know I loved her? Yes, I told her all the time

Did I hug my mum one last time? Yes, but I wish I had held on longer.

I shall begin my new chapter, a chapter of me, a chapter of reconstruction.

One step at a time

One day at a time

In the words of Sylvester Stallone “Keep Punching!”

 

To my fellow readers out there, who are ‘under construction’, take your time, reconstruct yourself with love and kindness and remember to enjoy the ride.

You are awesome, you are strong, you can do this.

 

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When ‘A’ met Grief (Part 2)

This blog post continues on from When ‘A’ met Grief (Part 1)

In the previous post I wrote about my experience of grief from losing my grampy, that it took a whooping 8 years to finally accept it.

The extract at the end of the blog was:

I had two years after that of some normality and at the end of 2015 I had convinced myself that the asshole hitch hiker was a result of not accepting or acknowledging the loss of my grampy and against the doctors wishes I came off my bipolar medication.

Against the doctors wishes meant that if I came off my medication I gave up the help, the support of the mental health team and I was on my own. My mentality at the time was screw them and screw the asshole hitch hiker. I felt it was safe to be able feel again.

Queue the return of ‘A’….drumroll please…

‘A’ came back, pissed I’d disrupted its vacation time but I could manage it. I started Yoga and meditation to become more mindful and it helped. The meditation side was a lot harder to master because my mind was always racing but I did 10 minutes everyday and persevered. Eventually I was finding I could sit for 20 minutes with a peaceful mind allowing my thoughts to come and go.

After 9 months of Yoga and meditation I felt a lot stronger in my mind and body, I was starting to feel in control. I even travelled to California by myself which was the biggest achievement to date. I was smashing ‘A’s ass hard!!

Jan 2017 saw me starting a new job, one I was excited about, one that would kick-start my long-awaited career.

I was finally in a good place.

March 30th 2017 was when it all came down with an almighty bang.

Every day before and after work I would visit my mum; I’d do anything she required, make her breakfast, sort her medication out, make her dinner, monitor her drinking and make sure she washed.

My mum was in her 10th year of battling alcohol addiction, it was at the stage now where she didn’t even enjoy drinking but had to because without the alcohol her body hurt, her mind tormented her and the withdrawals were too intense. She had been to rehab 5 times; 3 times forced by me and 2 times at her own will but the demons in her mind would always win because withdrawals were tough on her. She was awaiting her 6th rehab visit but there was a waiting list; I felt like this would be the last time, that she was ready to conquer it, she seemed different and more determined.

On March 30th I went round as usual in the morning but my mum didn’t look very well, extremely pale, very confused, and was in pain so I rang an ambulance and we were taken into hospital with sirens on. (I remember feeling excitement at this moment, what an adventure we could laugh about at a later date)

She was diagnosed with a water infection and started treatment alongside a detox due to her withdrawals.

‘A’ brought out the attacks with force, it felt like if i let go and succumbed to the pressure that an almighty attack was there waiting. I was always tinkering on the edge of an ‘A’ attack, it was waiting in the wings for an opening to present itself.

Of course the many years of masking this hitch hiker I was an expert in hiding it. I was the only one that could ever make my mum laugh; we seemed to get each other and were very similar. I stayed by her side every single day and hid the pain my hitch hiker was causing from my mum. We even had a few giggles and I saw my mum smile.

In reality though I was struggling.

I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t relax

Every new day the only goal I had been to get through it, win that daily battle and not worry about the next until I was faced with it.

Over the course of 5 days she started to get better, back to herself again. I went home on the fifth night for a shower (my mum forced me, said I needed it!), it was the first time I had left my mum’s side in 5 whole days. (I remember walking back to my car with a smile on my face: everything was going to be fine)

However,

On day 6 I woke to see my mum had started having breathing difficulties, this escalated extremely quickly and by day 7 my mum was diagnosed with pneumonia.

My mum was allergic to Penicillin and because she wasn’t well enough to answer for herself so I had to decide between:

  • Trying an alternative medicine to fight the pneumonia which my mum wasn’t allergic to but may not act fast enough
  • Give my mum Penicillin which would fight the pneumonia but could potential cause my mum further harm and ill-health

My mum was severly allergic to Penicillin which meant she could potentially go into anaphylactic shock so it was a no brainer for me to try the other medicine.

The alternative medicine wasn’t acting fast enough and the doctors were talking about intensive care; putting my mum to sleep for a while so her lungs could repair but my mum begged me not to let the doctors take her there because she wouldn’t wake up from it.

At this point my other sisters were in the hospital visiting which was helpful because every 5 minutes I had to leave the room to control ‘A’, at one point I even had to have oxygen because the attack had started to aggravate my asthma. I remember feeling annoyed because i would leave to get ‘A’ under control and my mum would ask one of my sisters where I was.

I hate myself for feeling agitated that she needed me.

This also started a feud between myself and my oldest sister, she barely saw my mum, infact, at that point in time the last time she had seen my mum was Boxing day 2016. (26th December)

I stayed by her side that night, the nurses wouldn’t dare to kick me out to the relative room. This made ‘A’ taunt me; did they already know she was going to die?

‘A’ was constantly pumping adrenaline into my system with the mini relentless attacks so I was wired anyway and unlikely to sleep. My heart was constantly racing and the amount I perspired wasn’t human. (Even my butt cheeks sweat, whose butt cheeks sweat?) It was crazy.

My mum fought so hard to breathe, I prayed so hard that night. My mum was trying with all her might to keep breathing. I was so proud of her.

She would fight this.

The next morning my mum went into respiratory failure and was taken to the intensive care unit. This time it wasn’t a choice, it was life or death.

The next 5 days I sat by her bed all day and night while a machine breathed for her. I talked to her, told her about Oscar (her beloved dog), I told her jokes, sang to her, played her music and held her hand. Sometimes her eyes would twitch and I knew she could hear me.

The doctors would continuously ask me about my mum’s health prior to this infection, they couldn’t understand why she wasn’t getting better. (I didn’t tell them about the 10 year battle with alcohol or the constant ill-health she suffered because I wanted them to keep trying, afraid if they knew that they would give up)

April 14th, 2017 (Does the date ring a bell to you? Apart from it being Good Friday, it was the same date 10 years ago that my grampy died. SAME DATE!)

The doctor sat me and my younger sister down and told us that there was no more they could do for my mum, her kidneys and liver had now failed. We had to turn the machines off.

I didn’t get to say goodbye, I didn’t get to say I love you I more time.

Now if I had been alone at this news I would have dealt with it better but my younger sister was hysterical crying, which allowed ‘A’ to creep through and I had one of the worst attacks id ever had. So bad infact that I thought I was going to die myself and I ran, before I realised it I was running down the stairs, through the hospital and into the fresh air before collapsing onto a patch of grass and violently throwing up my insides.

At around 5pm on 14th April I watched my mum take her final breaths surrounded by her daughters and brother and then I lay my head on her chest for the next 5 hours until they took her to the mortuary. I went over and over what had happened, feeling like I had failed her, feeling like I could have done more.

Why didn’t’ I just take her to the doctors for the water infection? She wouldn’t have caught pneumonia from the hospital then.

Its my fault she had died like this.

I don’t remember to this day when everyone left, I don’t really remember the 5 hours by her bedside just when the nurse interrupted me to say they had to take my mum away. I then walked home at 1030pm from the hospital; even though I had driven.

My mum died 14th April 2017 around 5pm – the exact same time and date as my grampy.

To this day that blows my mind.

So here I am in the cycle of grief again. This time its different.

The next couple of weeks I was possessed with something, I had this strength from somewhere. I organised the funeral, I organised all my mum’s affairs and I made sure everyone was ok. On the day of the funeral I stood up and read a poem I had written about my mum, I never cried.

After the funeral my dad (who I wasn’t particularly close with) came up to me and hugged me, for what seemed like a lifetime. He told me how proud he was of me, that to him I was the weakest daughter mentally and physically but somehow I had become the strongest and was holding everyone together. He thanked me for writing such a beautiful poem about mum and keeping everyone strong.

Everyone was thanking me, I didn’t understand it. I wasn’t doing it for them, I was doing it for my mum. I didn’t want any thanks.

Two days after the funeral I was sacked from my job, I hadn’t been back yet and they felt I wouldn’t be back for some time and felt it best to let me go. (Thanks a bunch!)

I had lost my mum, my routine and now my job.

So since then I have literally been surviving, day by day, with ‘A’. The doctors constantly trying to put me back on medication but I refuse. ‘A’ is crippling me but I want to beat it.

What better way that in a place of complete defeat? I couldn’t break any further.

Eventually the strength disappeared and I pleaded for the numbness like with my grampy but I didn’t get it. What I did get though instead was crippling flashbacks when I least expected them, moments replayed in my dreams over and over again, night sweats, night ‘A’ attacks and completely uncontrollable emotional outbursts.

By day I felt physically sick, exhausted, random outbursts of extreme emotion and constantly fearing I was going to die from something. The tiniest thing could make me either want to kill someone or cry uncontrollably.

By night my heart would race, I would sweat everywhere, id had flashbacks and horrible dreams and I would sob my heart out until I was sick.

Everyday through the sickness, the headaches and the extreme exhaustion I would force myself out of bed and do some Yoga and then walk to my youngest sisters house to see her.

The days I’d think I had a handle on it finally then like a wave in the sea it would all coming crashing into me again, harder than before. It would suck the life and strength out of me.

I’d pretty much given up, ‘A’ had convinced me I was going to die soon anyway so there was no point in trying. I was ready.

Then just like before with ‘A’ when I was younger, something clicked in me and I found some inner strength. I got a new job.

The job has been hard, everyday is an uphill battle to even get to work, then I have to tolerate people who irritate me, have to pretend I am normal (and without my hitch hiker) and try to act as if I care. I don’t care, I am constantly tinkering on the edge with ‘A’.

Christmas hit me hard, my younger sister went away for it and I was left here alone. I put a brave face on through video chats but I felt dead inside. I rang in sick for the first week back in work and I cant bare to go back, almost at the mindset of quitting. ‘A’ is winning the battle, day by day and this job has worn me further down than when I was unemployed.

I don’t want to go through another 8 years of my life not committing to anything again, feeling detached and isolated but I don’t feel strong at the moment, I feel like I’ve gone backwards. The flash backs are back, the lack of sleep and the emotional outbursts.

I guess it would appear I missed out on skipping the different stages with my grampy that this time I’m being taken through every stage several times a day. (Except numbness and denial which seem like the jackpot right now!)

Loss, hurt, emotional outbursts, anger, fear, fear, fear, fear, emotional outbursts, hurt, disorganisation, guilt, guilt, fear, guilt, guilt, fear, emotional outbursts, hurt, loneliness, isolation, isolation, isolation, loneliness, guilt, fear, fear, fear, anger, guilt, loss, emotional outbursts, depression.

My grampy use to always say “When nothing goes right…go left”

  • Maybe I should go left?

Quit everything from 2017 and start a new life in 2018.

Me and ‘A’

Change is good right? (or should that be left?)A’ doesn’t think so….