OK so this blog is evolving. Like everything, fog clears, pieces fall into place, what started as one journey ends up at a different destination. I have been reflecting, I do this constantly. I started off on a dream, then a quest, now I think I just have a story to tell. The story of what it is like to live every day with this ‘thing’ called grief, caused by someone, no not someone, my son, taking his own life. I will use any term other than ‘he committed suicide’ as this is so ugly, so brutal. I/we prefer, he took his own life, he died by his own hand, he passed away, I lost him!!!
Whatever happened I know he is not around anymore. I can’t talk to him, well I can but he won’t answer back. I can’t see him, only in photos now or in my mind’s eye. I can’t see his life evolve, see him grow and change and have children of his own. He hadn’t even passed his driving test and I don’t know if he was ever truly in love or had great sex. I don’t know anything except I miss him.
I decided that for the short term this blog will just be about what it is like, what it feels like to live every day with this grief.
For the most part I’m doing OK – if that is the right term. I quite often quote lines from Robbie Williams songs. ‘Suppose it’s just a point of view. But they tell me I’m doing fine’
I live exactly where I want to be. However, every day is a challenge, just as if I had a physical disability. Every day I square up to the day, and I face up to the many things that day that will provoke a memory or an emotion.
I’m going to get down to the nitty gritty now and this blog is going to tell it how it is. No frills, no pussy footing around. I’m going to tell you what it’s like to live with loneliness, guilt, pain and anger. I’m going to tell you how hard it is to live every day without my son, and with the knowledge that he didn’t want to stick around in this world.
I’m strong, and I will survive and maybe I’ll even be happy again, but it’s time to tell my story.