"Why does it take a minute to say hello and forever to say goodbye?"
Am finally home. This is bittersweet, glad to be back but also sad, the house is filled with memories of what had been and what was to come, plans sketched out that will never be fulfilled. I keep catching myself thinking about mothers day gifts and ringing for a chat, each time the shock is bracing, cuts through me like ice. I went shopping earlier, it seems crazy that the whole world is carrying on whilst mine has fallen apart so irretrievably.
Emotions spiral between hope and hopelessness. Waking, I had a sense of loss so profound it brought tears to my eyes. Keeping busy blocks the pain away but the realist in me knows I have to face up to things to move forward. Tears catch me when I least expect them, I cannot believe that I will never see her again, never talk to her, hug her, tell her I love her and have her hear it. The whole thing forces me to question whether I believe in death, life, souls, spirits and whether I think I will ever see her again in the future. All there is is hope.
Life after suicide
Friday, 9 March 2012
Tuesday, 6 March 2012
Hello...
This blog is focused on life following my mothers suicide. My mother committed suicide on 22 February 2012. She was 55 years old. She leaves an 84 year old father and two daughters aged 24 and 29. Following her loss I spent some time online researching how to cope with the suicide of a family member. Amongst the many sites I have looked at, I have found that reading about other's personal experiences has helped most, making me feel less alone and that there is light, even if it is at the end of a very long and daunting tunnel. I hope this blog will both help me chart my feelings, assist my recovery and will also (hopefully) help others going through similar experiences.
My mothers name was Pat, she was petite, pretty and blonde. She enjoyed spicy food, sunshine, wine and marshmallows and hated spiders and chocolate. We were a small but close family and she was the glue that held us together. Her loss was sudden and whilst not completely out of the blue, was still a huge shock which has left everyone who knew her reeling.
Thirteen days after her death I find myself still disbelieving, the whole situation is so surreal that it feels like reality has somehow been reversed and we are all living behind a sheet of glass that separates us from the real world, like something out of Silent Hill.
I am completely confused by my emotions. Upon hearing the news from my younger sister my first reaction was disbelief, I asked whether our mother was ok only to be told that she was dead. Visiting the police I was struck by both their helpfulness and their helplessness in the face of the situation at hand. When breaking the news to my Grandfather I was very much aware of my helplessness and my inability to say anything to make the situation better. This is in complete contrast to the natural order of things and my personality and something I have found particularly hard to cope with.
What I find most frustrating is the numbness and the pointlessness in equal measure. My mother left a note describing her reasons, they were things we had discussed previously which to myself and my sister and indeed others who knew her, seemed transient problems which would ultimately be overcome, given time and effort. Her loss seems so unecessary and that makes it all the more difficult. In some ways it is the ultimate rejection, even though it was not meant that way, it is difficult not to feel that way, even though its unjustified. The numbness is something else entirely, I try to focus on it, want to deal with it, but my mind stops me, forcing me to think about small things of lesser importance and impact. Lack of sleep and apetite worsen this and leave me in a confused and disorientated state.
There is so much to say, so many feelings and so many words, if I don't stop now it won't be a blog post but a book. Until later.
My mothers name was Pat, she was petite, pretty and blonde. She enjoyed spicy food, sunshine, wine and marshmallows and hated spiders and chocolate. We were a small but close family and she was the glue that held us together. Her loss was sudden and whilst not completely out of the blue, was still a huge shock which has left everyone who knew her reeling.
Thirteen days after her death I find myself still disbelieving, the whole situation is so surreal that it feels like reality has somehow been reversed and we are all living behind a sheet of glass that separates us from the real world, like something out of Silent Hill.
I am completely confused by my emotions. Upon hearing the news from my younger sister my first reaction was disbelief, I asked whether our mother was ok only to be told that she was dead. Visiting the police I was struck by both their helpfulness and their helplessness in the face of the situation at hand. When breaking the news to my Grandfather I was very much aware of my helplessness and my inability to say anything to make the situation better. This is in complete contrast to the natural order of things and my personality and something I have found particularly hard to cope with.
What I find most frustrating is the numbness and the pointlessness in equal measure. My mother left a note describing her reasons, they were things we had discussed previously which to myself and my sister and indeed others who knew her, seemed transient problems which would ultimately be overcome, given time and effort. Her loss seems so unecessary and that makes it all the more difficult. In some ways it is the ultimate rejection, even though it was not meant that way, it is difficult not to feel that way, even though its unjustified. The numbness is something else entirely, I try to focus on it, want to deal with it, but my mind stops me, forcing me to think about small things of lesser importance and impact. Lack of sleep and apetite worsen this and leave me in a confused and disorientated state.
There is so much to say, so many feelings and so many words, if I don't stop now it won't be a blog post but a book. Until later.
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