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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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

So Called ‘Recovery’.

Since this horrific journey began, so many unknown elements are being exposed to me.

Elements that seemed so acceptable and ‘normal’ (most disliked word now).

I read so many lived experience blogs and medical articles, some times, it feels as if the top of my head will lift off.

Professionals and non-professionals speak of ‘recovery’ for those of us who suffer mental illness.

I beg to differ strongly in the description of our individual experiences.

For many suffering mental illness, there will never be ‘recovery’.

It’s time society stops making these naive and, at times, patronising assumptions and statements.

We need to start treating mental illnesses as a cancer of the soul and mind. Not as if it is some mystical, untouchable, imaginary condition.

Robin Williams (may he rest in peace), is a prime example of a person with ‘soul and mind cancer’ (aka: mental illness), utilising many different methods of therapy and treatments, throughout his life. All of which most definitely contributed towards his life being extended to 63 years of age. If he tried coping without professional intervention, the educated assumption would be that his life would have ended many, many years (possibly decades) earlier.

 

I know of many friends who have been on medication for a long time and will probably be on them for the rest of their lives. I’m coming up to 3 years on my medications. They are keeping me alive, no doubt about it. If I stop taking them, my chances of dying increase greatly.

Now if we had Cancer and were taking medication or attending treatments to help us fight to remain alive, we’d be looked at as battlers and heroes.

But those of us with mental illness are looked upon as ‘weak and naive’ because we take medications which help us with our respective illnesses.

Also, just as Cancer can go into remission, so to it appears can depression and other mental illnesses. The treatments worked to give the sufferer a time of respite.

Then later something may trigger the mental illness and the fight is back on for survival.

Society needs to stop placing unrealistic expectations on people with mental illness (severe or otherwise). We already struggle with our inner demons enough, without having society expecting us to one day, ‘simply get better’.

I’m in the process now, of accepting the fact that my mental illnesses will be my lifelong companions. And as such there will be days we get along well and other days we hate each other desperately.

But recovery is a false dream for many of us, so stop shoving it down our throats.

 

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

3+ Years In. 

Most days our struggle is muted somewhat by work or ‘busy’ stuff. But it is never gone. 

The further away from that day our world imploded we get, the more difficult it becomes to survive. 

Our adjustment is a constant, organic thing. Our coping abilities are forever shifting, so we never reach a place of true peace. 

Or acceptance. 

This continuous need for adjustment is a huge part of why our energy is depleted so easily. And quickly. Grieving is a life long process, which takes a massive toll on the grieving individual. I feel guilty now, that I don’t wail outwardly every single day. 

But inside, I am howling like a banshee, just as I did when I first discovered Jaie had taken his own life. 

According to Gaelic lore, our family come from the Ó prefix. We originate from the insular Celtic lands. We have our own banshee. Our very own bean chaointe (keening woman).  This gives me some solace believing that she is still wailing the first death in 2 generations of Moran’s. I know I had to scream after learning of Jaie’s Suicide. It’s all I wanted to do. However I am the matriarch of our little family and had to care for those dependent upon me. So I let out my keening away from those I protect and kept/keep the lid clamped firmly closed around it. 

One thing I’ve noticed though, when I’m upset I generally begin letting this lid vent and I beg the universe for Jaie and his return. Very few people experience this level of devastation from me. Only the very trusted and true. Others may feel I’m trying to use my grief as a way to deflect from issues, but it’s not. I have to release that grief valve or I will not be able to function at ANY level. I do respond differently now, to issues with friends and family. 

This is another reason why I limit my contact with people. Not only am I aware I drain quickly, but I can also be a drain on others. 

Possibly as I progress along this grief journey I shall eventually be able to control my release valve better. But you know what? I’m human so tough luck for the rest of the world if I don’t. 

‘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


Child Loss Echoes on Forever …

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

This quote was used on Jaie’s ‘Deed of Service’ at his funeral. Because indeed it felt, and still feels, this way. A child is meant to be a cause for joy and future preparations. Planning of weddings and family gatherings, not of choosing a casket and where to have their funeral.

Two years, 19 months and 9 days since Jaie died by suicide. Sometimes I do wonder how it would be to grieve for the loss of a child, without the added complication of suicide as the cause (please I am in no way trying to compare our grief with anyone else’s, it is simply a thought which occasionally passes through my mind)? 

Would I have coped ‘better’? Or just differently? Or is it truly what I believe in my heart that the manner in which Jaie died, while important in the grief journey in some ways, is irrelevant in others? Child loss is just that! LOSS!

It is this huge, gaping loss of someone who we have expected to share all of our past, present and future moments with, in one way or another. But we then feel the loss of our others children’s grief. We feel our hearts begin to bleed when they say or write how much they miss their ‘little brother’ or their ‘baby’s daddy’.

So we do wonder if there will come a point where your lives will begin to settle into a routine. A routine which shall always have that door which is slightly ajar, allowing thoughts of our loved one, to sneak out into our everyday lives. See this is also bittersweet, because while it hurts us, we have every right in the world to think and speak of our lost loved ones. No matter how they died. We are the Rememberers’ and that is what we shall continue to do.

The thoughts never stop racing through my mind, some days they are worse than others. Just as some days the triggers are far worse than others. No one understands the amount of energy it takes to just be ‘functioning’ in society. To be able to work and interact and talk and focus on my work load. But I will do it all happily, if it gives me just a few moments where I am not focused on how Jaie died and that he is actually dead. I take pride in producing top quality work and I want my participation in a job, to ensure that it makes someone’s life a bit more enjoyable or less stressful.

I am just rambling now. It is almost our 3rd christmas without Jaie and I am truly dreading it. Reality is like hindsight. A cruel and merciless beast. It shows no discretion or diplomacy, it simply is. We have no choice but to accept it or at least make out that we do, so the rest of the world can keep functioning as if nothing has changed. As if no one has had their ‘chain of life’ broken and discarded.

I am so tired and tortured and these are a non-stop battle. I am always both, to varying degrees. My pain never stops, it simply morphs occasionally to give me a moments respite.

Stay safe everyone <3.

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