STRENGTH…

We all have different views on what strength is. Everyone has a back story, but not everyone knows another persons trials and tribulations.

Many of my newer friends know I lost my youngest son Jaie, to Suicide. But the back story before all this happened, is in many ways, out of a horror book for my children and myself.

‘Strength through Adversity’ I keep telling myself.

Do you want to know what strength is?

  • Strength is having someone you love, threaten to kill you and their unborn baby, yet you stand tall in the face of this.
  • Strength is having this person stalk you for years afterwards and 20 years later, you can stand up to them without blinking.
  • Strength is admitting when you are struggling and need help. Any help. From family, friends, workmates… literally anyone.
  • Strength is, after finding out a person you literally trusted with your life (children), has betrayed you all in the worst possible way, you do what is right. Even though, in that moment, it is the most difficult path.
  • Strength is having to teach your children that life is unfair and cruel and sometimes, bad people either fail to get any punishment or they receive minimum punishment. (Though I’m a firm believer that karma will catch them).
  • Strength is having your daughter disclose sexual abuse at 15 years of age and keeping your shit together, long enough to get her and her brothers to safety, while still being in the presence of evil.
  • Strength is doing things in a way that keeps everyone close to you safe from harm, until it can all be spoken about with them.
  • Strength is being judged for doing things in a way no one else can comprehend, but you still do it because you know it protects those you love.
  • Strength is talking your little brother out of suicide.
  • Strength is the very next night, realising immediately that your little brother is literally fighting for his life and calling the emergency services to try and help him.
  • Strength is calling your mother at 4.20am in the morning to let her know the police had found your little brothers body and that we had lost him.
  • Strength is living alone with the demons in your head, for over 10 years and telling no one just how horrifying they truly are.
  • Strength is convincing yourself that your family and friends are better off without you (this is not true. We love you and will always want you with us.) Suicide is not selfish or cowardly.
  • Strength is having to lie to your daughters about the death being confirmed, until you can be with them to break the news face to face.
  • Strength is wanting to help your mother cover the costs of your little brothers funeral.
  • Strength is mothering the child of your deceased fiancé, while feeling like you want to die too.
  • Strength is being able to wake up every single day and to choose life.
  • Strength is being able to comprehend that your life is never going to be what you thought it would be, but still making the most of it anyway.
  • Strength is knowing that by helping others, it is helping yourself.
  • Strength is finding a reason to smile everyday.
  • Strength is sometimes simply getting out of bed and taking a shower.
  • Strength is recognising what worked for you in the ‘Before’, no longer works for you in the ‘After’.
  • Strength is practicing self care and leading your children by example.
  • Strength is withdrawing when everything is too much.
  • Strength is telling people you have major depressive disorder (or bipolar or schizophrenia or any form of mental illness).
  • Strength is sometimes simply waking up, taking a deep breath, then rolling back over to return to sleep.
  • Surviving IS strength.

If you’re not walking in another persons shoes, how would you know what burdens they are carrying?

‘Love Sometimes Comes Like a Dream & Leaves Like a Nightmare’

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Rising From these Ashes

“I lost myself, when my sister died.”

Words from a newly discovered friend tonight.

“I’m sure you understand what I’m trying to say. You lost your son.”

I had begun to cry at her words.

This lady actually saw it and got it. Her loss and grief has taken her to a place where now, she too is fighting to return to the land of the living.

I explained to this friend that I’ve been trying to explain for 4 years how grief has changed me. I tell people that if they’re struggling to cope with the stranger I’ve become, imagine how difficult it is for me!

I look in the mirror every. single. day. And have little to no recognition of the ‘person’ staring back at me.

And it is a terrifying thing. For ones life to go from ‘normal’ issues and woes, to a parents and family’s worst nightmare.

Then there are the people who use your loss against you for their own spiteful, immature and selfish reasons. So you wonder why you still bother trying to be that change in this messed up world.

To all those soul survivors out there, please believe that your departed loved one is still around you. They are still showering you with love.

May you find the grace in yourself to practice kindness to your own soul.

‘Love Sometimes Comes Like a Dream & Leaves Like a Nightmare’

Dedicated to A.L.

Accepting ‘tiredness’ into your life.

I used to believe i knew about tiredness in years past, but I was simply kidding myself about what tiredness actually was.

Since Jaie killed himself, genuine tiredness/weariness is now a true constant in my life.

Constant, in the sense that I never wake up after a decent nights sleep, feeling reenergised and refreshed.

Instead I fight against opening my eyes and reentering reality and the everyday struggle for survival. Now it’s as if I have to brace myself prior to becoming fully awake and aware, that the hollow pit of pain in my chest, was not a bad dream. That this nightmare is one in reverse. Where sleep is an escape from the horrors which await me.


Jaie’s first photo for 2018 😭💔😭


Our Nightmare is one that will recur everyday and night, until we too become nothing but atoms of energy around our remaining loved ones.

Being cleared of having bipolar today, was a massive relief for me. Major depressive disorder and anxiety are cruel enough to cope with. Didn’t stop me crying though.

I wonder what 2018 will bring us?

‘Love Sometimes Comes Like a Dream & Leaves Like a Nightmare

Purgatory is Real …

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I struggle at times to explain how the loss of my child has impacted me, until this week.

I was looking recently into signing a contract for something which spread over several years and in the back of my mind, all I could think was this;

“Oh no! I cannot live that much longer without one of my children!”

This threw me for several days, however I do know that other mothers, sisters, brothers, fathers and partners totally comprehend what I am saying/thinking.

Purgatory is what every parent lives through once they have lost a child. Every single day requires a conscious choice to not only survive, but to thrive. No easy task when a portion of your soul is no longer with you physically.

Purgatory is when you simply wish to sleep (so long as there are no nightmares) to escape the nightmare that your life has become.

Almost 3 years since Jaie died and I still say to people, “I just do not understand how we got here? How it all came to this?”

I force myself to not cry because it is almost impossible to stop once I start. I just wish to find a dark hole to crawl into, curl up and never come out.

Medication can only do so much and the rest is on ourselves. Therapy helps as well, but I am certain that if I ever let anyone into my mind, they would run screaming from me and never see me again.

I would no longer be allowed to walk within the community. But then again I see what our so called justice system allows to remain around our communities so maybe I would still be  able to remain mainstream?

‘Love Sometimes Comes Like a Dream & Leaves Like a Nightmare’

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Shadow Dweller

‘Shadow Dweller’a short story…
Even though we have lost our Jaie … 

Our little family still has many blessings to focus on …

Knowing and having Jaie in our lives, even for a very short 22 years, was the best!!!

Jaie taught us just how individual we all are and I miss having my often angry and moody youngest child venting at me or arguing with me over silly things.

I miss (as must Jade) trying to speak with him calmly after he has lost his shit, to get the real Jaie back.

I miss his hugs and his “Love you Mum”, at every visit or phone call.

It is almost 3 years and I still miss ALL of these things just as much as the first moment he left us in 2014.

Whenever you speak with me and you think I am great, realise this one critical factor, I gain my strength from my children. 

Living and Deceased ❤…

I will never be ‘okay’ … 
I am a surface visitor and a shadow dweller … 

The light is often too strong for me to remain in for extended periods, so I do as much as I can when I am on the surface, then go back to my shadows to regain my strength and rebuild my mask of ‘normality’ …

I am typing this out with tears running down my face. No sobs, the tears just flow freely and silently. 

As silently as my heart broke, in the early morn, of April 2nd 2014.
Sorrow is a strange thing. 

In its unbearable immersion, we find a true sense of compassion and sometimes, altruism towards our fellow man and woman.

So at times when it may appear I am at my most brutal, it usually means I am feeling the worst of the grief and incapable of showing mercy. 

But in the shadows I am watching and waiting, fully aware that I must be mindful of all I say and do. 

Because my actions and words impact others. Even people I may never meet.

Love Sometimes Comes Like a Dream & Leaves Like a Nightmare


You WILL live on in us ULLA (Blahpolar) … Thank you for the Support

This kind lady helped me to see past the crushing guilt when Jaie first died, to fight to live another day. And now Ulla is also gone. I am crying already and it is barely 7.30am.

 

https://theblahpolar.wordpress.com

I called her john, I now know her name was Ulla. This makes no difference to me, my grief is once more unbearable. I could hardly sleep last night. I had thought I was done with blogging, hung up my blogging boots: But how do I not revert to where I found so much solace […]

via Aww it has happened again; Grief strikes our mental health community, join us in solidarity — Marie Abanga’s Blog

“Are You Better Now?”

I had to return to my GP for a new referral to my psychiatrist. I had the Locum doctor who was obviously unfamiliar with my background.

While answering the standard questions about medications etc, another question was asked.

“Are You Better Now?”

And within seconds my eyes began to fill with tears and I took a deep breath before responding, “Well I do not cry every single moment of the day now.” And then the next 10 minutes of the appointment was spent trying to not cry because all I kept thinking was,

“How does anyone feel ‘better’ after child loss or losing a loved one?”

Because, no I am most certainly NOT feeling better. I am simply learning how to wear a mask and hide my emotions most of the time. I no longer struggle to hide my emotions from the general public, because most of the general public do not wish to see a woman sitting, drinking coffee, with tears streaming down her face. It makes them uncomfortable and wonder if I am about to leap up wielding a weapon and harming others. I can tell because of the looks of horror and uncertainty on their faces. As well as the fact I have had people move seats away from me lol.

Amazing that as a society we view genuine emotions with horror and discomfort, yet we encourage people to show a ‘strong face’ etc, in times of despair. Oh sorry, but my son died 2 1/2 years ago and you believe this to mean my feelings of despair should be over by now? Well let me tell you that I shall NEVER be over my feelings of despair and loss, regarding my child. And until or unless you experience this type of loss, you have NO RIGHT to expect me to meet your beliefs about this type of grief.

I am angry, so very angry. My son did not deserve to die how he did. My children did not deserve to lose their little brother. Jaie’s Fiancee and daughter did not deserve to lose him in any way.

So I am angry to be asked “Are you better now?” I am angry my baby is dead. I am angry his little girl will have no living memories of her daddy. I am angry that my eldest son spoke of everything being ‘tainted’ by Jaie’s death. I am angry that my daughter does not have an argument with her little brother, but in the next moment is defending him against  anyone else. I am angry that his Fiancee has been placed with so much sorrow and stress on her young shoulders. I am angry I couldn’t help my son.

But I am not angry with Jaie. I am simply devastated that my youngest child felt so bereft of hope he took his own life. I am saddened he did not realise that he had an illness which destroyed his mind and life. An illness which was manageable.

‘Love Sometimes Comes Like a Dream & Leaves Like a Nightmare’