Another sense of loss.

It was exactly a year and a half ago last week since mum died, I was surprised when I realised it was as it feels like only a few months ago, perhaps it always will feel that raw like it only happened last month or something. But actually as I write this I realise it doesn’t feel anything like that, or more I do not feel anything like that. I remember what I felt like a month or so after she died, I don’t feel like that now, I don’t feel like I wish I had died too anymore. Things do move on, you don’t really want them to at the time as it feels like you are moving away from the person you love so much, but they do, they have to really. The last year and a half has been the saddest time of my live. My problem is  I’m good at appearing to be ok and getting on with things while inside I’m dying, I’m sure many friends didn’t realise how shit I was feeling, my problem is i don’t talk about it. I think it is just too hard, especially when people haven’t been through the same thing, but also it’s so fucking painful I don’t think I know where to start. But I am trying to stop being so annoying ok all the time, it just takes time.

Everything does seem to be on the move a bit at the moment, there have been quite a few new things in my life at the same time as saying goodbye to other things. My bereavement counseling ended last Wednesday, after a whole year of going every bloody week. I always thought I hated going, like it was something I knew I should do but never really thought I was really making any improvement, but I can see I really was, it has helped in so many different ways. She warned me a few weeks before it ended that once it had I may experience the feeling of another loss. I didn’t believe her, but she was right. There is definitely a space in my life now, it’s all so final as well, like some kind of relationship break-up, like we have had an argument and refuse to speak to each other, in fact it’s a bit like another death. Knowing that I will never see her again, never talk to her again, all the things I said to her and things I opened up about all those moments are gone and all I have are memories. Also because of where I used to have the sessions has effected me on top of this, returning every week to the same building where my mum had died, on the same floor only 3 rooms away from the room where she took her last breath while lying in my arms. Returning to the Marie Curie hospice for my sessions was hard, but then on the last day rather than feeling relieved I no longer had to go there I felt sadness at not coming back to the place again, like I was in someway abandoning my mum again. When I left the night she died I really hated the fact I had to leave her body there, I tried so much to not think about her body being moved from the room to the morgue and it being there until her funeral, I hated that. On my last day at the hospice last week I walked a different way in to the building, around the side, and I passed the big black side gates which I presume are only used for undertakers coming to pick up people’s bodies. I thought about the fact my mum’s body would have been driven through these gates, and that she would have been alone, I wasn’t with her, I felt I abandoned her. After my session I felt those same feelings as I walked out of the hospice for what would be my last time, I felt I was abandoning some part of her again. But what was confusing is I also felt the need to keep walking, it felt things were finally moving on some way. I remember looking round at the building just before I turned the corner, I saw the big concrete building as some kind of symbol for all the horrible pain I had felt, and I was now somehow leaving some of it there, so I turned the corner and walked in the direction of Heath to go and visit my mum’s ashes. This is her final place, not that sad concrete building.

So I think, for sometime now anyway, come 3pm every Wednesday I will feel another sense of loss. But I will try to use that hour I would have spent talking to someone about myself and what I am feeling to do something else just as helpful to myself. This week to mark the time I went and sat in the park for an hour and just thought about things, without anything to distract me I sat and thought about my mum and how I was feeling and it felt good.