I have been deep in the mire. Slowly tipping into not coping. Falling in January and not being okay enough to do my job. The professionals say this is textbook grief; there really is no set pattern or timeline. You’re messed up then and you’re messed up now- good luck with getting out of it, they will help. I am broken in both body and mind. Plus there is just general life wear and tear tapping at my form asking me to yield to the coming years.
Through exhaustion, desperation and the desire to just be LP’s mum I stopped. I had put every resource into keeping us in our home and soon I will have to return to the world before I risk it all. I really am unsure of what I’m doing. Day to day is it for now. I had to stop in order to start again.
For a bit I thought about how I would prefer it if I was dead. This is different from being suicidal. I reasoned that I had a place and a purpose in living due to the people I love and who love me. I found that I had no Jo-centric reason for living; nothing to get up for that didn’t involve the needs and feelings of others. Once I had stopped going to work; when the deep and horrible sadness filled every moment that I was undistracted; I wanted to find my life but I was too tired to look. I don’t know the answer now but I do have some ideas.
When it comes to my attitude to myself I am terribly unreliable. I look to those closest to me to hear my ramblings; to listen. I have several shields up against poorly thought out choices. They act as nonsense sieves. I wonder where my spiralling could have taken me at times.
I have absolutely no energy for making long term plans unless they involve gardens and eternal happiness.
I dream about Seb. I have nightmares where through a variety of circumstances I discover that our relationship was a sham. There are times when I am screaming. I wake up outraged and ready for battle. I probably just want to have a go at him for going. I envy him for not having to grieve.
Perhaps hell is watching life happen without you. If there is a paradise it must be complete ignorance for anything you’ve left behind. If the dead are watching us then they must know where we are all going- that way they have the peace of expecting that we will turn up to join them at some point and all sit round for an eternity at the free bar.
I remember attempting to put my circumstances into some kind of perspective. I have learned that I don’t have to. I am allowed to feel like rot. So are you. I would just like to feel some consistent pleasure. A joy drawn from my own well of achievement that has absolutely everything to do with me. I think that is the point of living; maybe just a method of survival. Just saying it could even make it happen.