Bumps in the Road
Looking back at what I have said so far, it might be easy to think that I’m setting off on an adventure and looking forward to it, when quite the opposite is true. The fact is at first, I felt like I had been left behind to wait until we can be together again and facing a life without purpose. When the night demons would come and keep me awake all night, I had to dig deep to get up and start work the next day, but with two wonderful children (26 and 36) who are obviously going through a similar situation and have always been very close and always will be, I have no doubt we will come to understand our ‘new normal’. We are lucky they both have loving and supportive partners to care for us too.
To survive these times, I have read many books and blogs and listened to so called experts, the problem is there’s so many different opinions and you have to take on board what helps you and let the others go. In this blog everything I say is what is helping or has helped me so far and as everyone is different, I am certainly not saying it’s right for anyone else, in fact it might not be right at all, but if blissful ignorance is what I need, I’m good for now.
First thing and let’s get it on the table now and that is the subject of medication. No one’s asking you to be a hero and ‘buck up and get on with it’, the truth is that grief is a direct product of love, so the more you loved someone, the more it’s going to hurt and sometimes the hurt is unbearable. There’s medication available that allows you to think without the panic attacks that have become more regular and still function normally once you get used to it. I started on it before Julie passed as we were doing our best to keep her at home as long as possible, which meant morphine every four hours and watching someone you love literally fade away, I would wish this on no one. I’m still on the medication now at a reduced dose, but it’s just enough for me to handle life for now until I get some more practice.
Second thing I have done which was much harder than going to the doctors, was to learn to ask for help and be alright with saying no. I’m now able to admit to myself that there are things I can no longer do or would be much easier with someone to help. Even harder still is to say no if I’m not alright with something that’s being asked of me. I’ve finally woken up to the fact that you can choose exactly who you would like in your life and choose who you don’t. Family or friends are no different, it’s how they behave, so this is where you need to care for yourself, you absolutely know inside if you want someone in your life and if not there’s an old saying which I go back to now: ‘If in doubt…chuck ‘em out’. It works every time.
Well that’s where I am now, enough tablets in me to let me focus and take in new information and surrounded only by people who actually do care and they know who they are. I’m especially lucky to have extremely kind and supportive work colleagues with whom I wouldn’t have been able to keep that one constant in my life going.
So, for the bumps ahead, these are not the normal life bumps but the ones directly related to losing your soul mate. Whilst you might not see it at first, during the immediate times following your loss, people in your life did cut you some slack and felt empathy for you and did those extra things that made things just that bit easier. However human nature and busy lives means that most people will forget what happened and expect you to have ‘got over it’ but we all know that’s probably never going to happen and for me it’s the last thing I want, I’m not trying to forget Julie, I’m trying to remember her every day but without getting upset. This is something I will have to do alone; it’s personal and something which must be done without constant help. We have just had the first Christmas which everyone says is the hardest, but I don’t necessarily agree, the second Christmas may be more difficult as the rest of the world will have moved on and it may feel like we need to bear this alone and don’t share. I wonder when the time will come when I meet someone in the shops and they no longer ask how I’m coping with my loss?