Been a while since I posted, so I wanted to talk a bit about what grief means to me. They say there are five stages of grief - Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression and Acceptance - I think I could write quite a few more on that and some I'm yet to experience, welcome to my world!!!
Now, lets talk denial, yep its been nearly 20 months since I lost Trevor but I am still in times in denial, I dont think that will ever change, maybe its more in my case with him being in hospital for so long before he passed but days I still pick up the phone to send him a text, still call out to him at home, pretend that it hasnt happened, not so sure denial or wishful thinking, or maybe theyre the same thing!
Anger - well I could write a book on that one, I'm angry at everything and I mean everything, the slightest thing sends me into a fury, and I'm angry at myself for failing Trevor, angry at Trevor for not being able to hold on for me, for Ella, for himself, I'm angry at the world for daring to go on when I cant and some days just dont want to, EVERYTHING angers me.
Bargaining - not so much with me, I'm still in denial after all!
Depression - tough word, depression takes so many forms and means so many different things to each person, its individual, to say I have been depressed? I'd say its grief, its heart wrenching emotional roller coasters, every single day, waves to ride, anniversaries that tear your very soul out - too much, well you havent the slightest clue if you havent walked in my shoes, and I dont mean that to sound harsh, its the truth, everyone comments how well I am, how well I look, how well I am handling everything, well I will gladly swap, seriously take it, I dont want to feel like this, I want my life back, I want to wake up for one day and turn over and Trevor to be there, I dont want the empty space!
Acceptance - well f**k that, I dont think anyone can honestly say they ever accept the death of their loved one, not really, how can you.
So thats the "written" stages, well I'll tell you this, its crap, pure and simple. Life has passed by the last 20 months in a blur, I have buried my husband, moved house, Ella has started nursery and will be going to school in September, I've turned 40, we would have had two wedding anniversaries, birthdays, its life and I've simply gone with the flow. I wake up some mornings and I dont know where I am, literally! If I sleep its full of dreams, nonsense mainly and its light, I wake often. I can tell people still find it hard to know what to say to me so they act like its all normal, Trevor isnt mentioned by most, its expected that life must go on, I must find happiness, I must do this or do that, well why? I'm on auto-pilot and I dont know how to change that, so I'm sorry if I dont join in on all the "happy" stuff! Doesnt mean I need to be left out, try talking to me, its not contagious!
As for Ella, she is good and that in itself makes me as happy as I can be, shes an inspiration and her daddy would be so proud of her, it breaks my heart that hes not here to see her grow up and she talks about him often but what do you say to your 4 year old when she asks how her daddy died, it is absolutely not a question I felt ready to answer so I told her as much of a truth as I could, that daddy was sick and just couldnt get better.
So, its a bit of a mixed up, angry, self pity post, not really, its just how I feel right now and I think its good to just get it out!!!
Saturday, 31 March 2018
Monday, 23 October 2017
I Am Widow
At some time during the early afternoon on Tuesday 9th August 2016 at aged 38 I became a widow. Everything I had known for the last 22 years disappeared. Life changed and not in a good way, it will never be the same again.
I think after losing someone grief takes over and it can show in so many different ways, each person is so different and I think thats about the only "normal" part of any of it really. I felt numb for the first few days, didnt sleep, didnt eat much, merely functioned. There was so much to organise and I went into a sort of auto-pilot mode, so much I dont remember and more that I dont want to. I had Ella to consider and I had to do what I needed to keep her safe, she was all I had left of Trevor. When the first thing your 3 year old daughter asks when she wakes if her daddy is still dead its kind of hard not to fall apart but I tried, I owed Trevor that much.
There were calls from the Coroner's Office, it wasnt a "normal" (theres that word again!) death, in suicide cases there has to be a Coroner's Report conducted, they had to authorise release of the body, give initial findings into cause of death, inform me that there would have to be an enquiry and they would advise when this was done but it would be a few months before I would know if there would be an Inquest and before I could register the death. All surreal conversations, auto-pilot mode engaged. Then there were the rubberneckers, we all know the type, those who slow down at accident scenes, nose around when something unusual has happened, well I got those too, they would drive by the house, slow down, point (yes!) and then turn around and drive away again. The first few visits to the shops were very similar, I mean what do you say to a woman who has just lost her husband, well it seems not much, you just look at her very quickly, look away and turn the other direction, dont you? I know its hard knowing what to say, I understand that and I know none of it was meant in any way to offend but it felt like it at that time!
Then there were the "youve got to get back to normal" comments. What exactly is normal anymore? I certainly didnt feel the same. And of course the "but youre lucky you have Ella", dont get me wrong, Ella is my lifeline, I dont hide the fact if I hadnt her things would be a lot different for me but "lucky" is not a word I could ever use. Its just something you say I know that but I didnt feel it then and still dont. I have lost my partner, that one person I relied upon and he isnt there anymore. I had a three year old growing up without her daddy and I was the person she was now relying upon, I wont lie, there were many an occasion when I didnt think I was going to be able to do it, and I still have them. The thing is on the outside someone may look like theyre coping, I have had so many comments about how well I am coping, how Trevor would be proud of me, well I know how I feel on the inside and to be honest until you have actually walked in my shoes you dont know at all. People stop asking how you feel after a while, its like youve had your five minutes, get on with it girl. At our last session with the mental health team the social worker commented about how she didnt know how I had managed to cope so well with handling work, Ella, going to the hospital every day to see Trevor etc etc and said she would "break me some day", a comment I know she very much regretted given what happened because yes I am just that, broken.
I threw myself into projects. Those of you who know me know there is one escape for me, beading. I started to make new pieces as soon as I felt I could actually hold a pair of pliers without crumbling. Two of my best friends sent me beads and in between the tears of the gesture I began to create again but even that was different. If I look back at pieces I made before Trevor died and after I can see a shift, I always put my heart into my work, always have but now my heart wasnt the same. I then started to rearrange rooms, decorate, do little things we had both intended to do but just never got around to. I craved the sense that he was still there, something people also said, that he would be watching over me but I never felt it. I looked for all those signs and never once found any. He is gone, physically anyhow, he never will leave me but he isnt there either.
There were all the "firsts", the first Christmas, the first Birthdays, the first Wedding Anniversary and the first year of losing him. None were easy. Time does not make things easier, all time does is go past. Make it further from the last time I saw him. When will it get easier? I dont know it ever will, I think the best I can hope for it that I learn to adapt. I dont cry as much anymore, not because I dont feel as sad but because I feel less emotional, more numb, robotic even. It hits in waves, times I still forget he isnt here anymore. That he is just in hospital, I pick up the phone to text him, I even shout on him at home, buy things in the shop that I know he eats, its funny how your brain is wired to hold onto little pieces of information and not let go.
People asked after he died if I would stay or move home. I was adamant I would stay, it was our home, where Ella was born, the only place we had been together but after a while it felt less like home and more just the place where he died. I couldnt walk in the drive without that vision of finding him, the smells, the sounds, it just ate me up in the end. Memories you can take with you, I will carry those 18 years we spent in our first home with me always but I needed to get away and at the end of August we moved into a new home and the old emotions and grief in a way began again. This was a new chapter but one that didnt include Trevor and that I have to say has been one of the hardest things. In a way I guess it feels like I am leaving him behind, like I have forgotten him but I havent, not for a second and I never will.
Life has dealt this tragic blow and there is nothing I or anyone else can do about it. My life has changed and like it or not it wont go back to how it was, everything will forever be "before" and "after" and it hurts like hell, there is not a single day that goes by that I dont wish things were different. I will forever feel like I could have done more for Trevor and will always blame myself in some way or other for his death. I cant help that. Ella is too young to have grasped what has happened, she knows her daddy is never coming back and I know I will have questions to answer when she is older. She talks about him and remembers him, I hope she always will and will do all I can to make sure she never forgets him. I will try and be as brave as I can and hide my emotions as best as I can, its how I function, how I get through every day.
Its now been 1 year, two months, and 14 days since my life changed and I miss him more now than ever.
I think after losing someone grief takes over and it can show in so many different ways, each person is so different and I think thats about the only "normal" part of any of it really. I felt numb for the first few days, didnt sleep, didnt eat much, merely functioned. There was so much to organise and I went into a sort of auto-pilot mode, so much I dont remember and more that I dont want to. I had Ella to consider and I had to do what I needed to keep her safe, she was all I had left of Trevor. When the first thing your 3 year old daughter asks when she wakes if her daddy is still dead its kind of hard not to fall apart but I tried, I owed Trevor that much.
There were calls from the Coroner's Office, it wasnt a "normal" (theres that word again!) death, in suicide cases there has to be a Coroner's Report conducted, they had to authorise release of the body, give initial findings into cause of death, inform me that there would have to be an enquiry and they would advise when this was done but it would be a few months before I would know if there would be an Inquest and before I could register the death. All surreal conversations, auto-pilot mode engaged. Then there were the rubberneckers, we all know the type, those who slow down at accident scenes, nose around when something unusual has happened, well I got those too, they would drive by the house, slow down, point (yes!) and then turn around and drive away again. The first few visits to the shops were very similar, I mean what do you say to a woman who has just lost her husband, well it seems not much, you just look at her very quickly, look away and turn the other direction, dont you? I know its hard knowing what to say, I understand that and I know none of it was meant in any way to offend but it felt like it at that time!
Then there were the "youve got to get back to normal" comments. What exactly is normal anymore? I certainly didnt feel the same. And of course the "but youre lucky you have Ella", dont get me wrong, Ella is my lifeline, I dont hide the fact if I hadnt her things would be a lot different for me but "lucky" is not a word I could ever use. Its just something you say I know that but I didnt feel it then and still dont. I have lost my partner, that one person I relied upon and he isnt there anymore. I had a three year old growing up without her daddy and I was the person she was now relying upon, I wont lie, there were many an occasion when I didnt think I was going to be able to do it, and I still have them. The thing is on the outside someone may look like theyre coping, I have had so many comments about how well I am coping, how Trevor would be proud of me, well I know how I feel on the inside and to be honest until you have actually walked in my shoes you dont know at all. People stop asking how you feel after a while, its like youve had your five minutes, get on with it girl. At our last session with the mental health team the social worker commented about how she didnt know how I had managed to cope so well with handling work, Ella, going to the hospital every day to see Trevor etc etc and said she would "break me some day", a comment I know she very much regretted given what happened because yes I am just that, broken.
I threw myself into projects. Those of you who know me know there is one escape for me, beading. I started to make new pieces as soon as I felt I could actually hold a pair of pliers without crumbling. Two of my best friends sent me beads and in between the tears of the gesture I began to create again but even that was different. If I look back at pieces I made before Trevor died and after I can see a shift, I always put my heart into my work, always have but now my heart wasnt the same. I then started to rearrange rooms, decorate, do little things we had both intended to do but just never got around to. I craved the sense that he was still there, something people also said, that he would be watching over me but I never felt it. I looked for all those signs and never once found any. He is gone, physically anyhow, he never will leave me but he isnt there either.
There were all the "firsts", the first Christmas, the first Birthdays, the first Wedding Anniversary and the first year of losing him. None were easy. Time does not make things easier, all time does is go past. Make it further from the last time I saw him. When will it get easier? I dont know it ever will, I think the best I can hope for it that I learn to adapt. I dont cry as much anymore, not because I dont feel as sad but because I feel less emotional, more numb, robotic even. It hits in waves, times I still forget he isnt here anymore. That he is just in hospital, I pick up the phone to text him, I even shout on him at home, buy things in the shop that I know he eats, its funny how your brain is wired to hold onto little pieces of information and not let go.
People asked after he died if I would stay or move home. I was adamant I would stay, it was our home, where Ella was born, the only place we had been together but after a while it felt less like home and more just the place where he died. I couldnt walk in the drive without that vision of finding him, the smells, the sounds, it just ate me up in the end. Memories you can take with you, I will carry those 18 years we spent in our first home with me always but I needed to get away and at the end of August we moved into a new home and the old emotions and grief in a way began again. This was a new chapter but one that didnt include Trevor and that I have to say has been one of the hardest things. In a way I guess it feels like I am leaving him behind, like I have forgotten him but I havent, not for a second and I never will.
Life has dealt this tragic blow and there is nothing I or anyone else can do about it. My life has changed and like it or not it wont go back to how it was, everything will forever be "before" and "after" and it hurts like hell, there is not a single day that goes by that I dont wish things were different. I will forever feel like I could have done more for Trevor and will always blame myself in some way or other for his death. I cant help that. Ella is too young to have grasped what has happened, she knows her daddy is never coming back and I know I will have questions to answer when she is older. She talks about him and remembers him, I hope she always will and will do all I can to make sure she never forgets him. I will try and be as brave as I can and hide my emotions as best as I can, its how I function, how I get through every day.
Its now been 1 year, two months, and 14 days since my life changed and I miss him more now than ever.
Thursday, 12 October 2017
THE BLACK DOG
So, we all are fully aware of the stigma surrounding mental health, basically us humans function well at most things but for a lot when it comes to dealing with emotions basically we are crap, pure and simple and mental health issues are just not talked about, we should just be able to give ourselves a shake and get on with things, right?? Well not so true for a lot of people unfortunately, if it were that simple I wouldn't be where I am today.
For us it all started when out of tragic circumstances Trevor was left without his brother and mother within a three year period. I know a lot of people deal with death and have lost parents, partners, children, family etc etc, it happens yes but everyone deals with death differently and for Trevor it was the loss of his brother aged 38 to suicide and his mother three years later to breast cancer that was the trigger for his breakdown and his clinical depression.
The change came gradually, it wasn't something that just happened overnight, not like a switch turning on or off, it was little changes spread over time. After his brother died he sought out ways of understanding, that was the big thing with him, he just didn't understand how it could come to that and went looking for answers. In doing so he came across a lot of spiritual practices, some of which I am sure did help but unfortunately a lot did exactly the opposite. Now I am not knocking people's beliefs, far from it, but what you have to understand is that there are some people out there who can very easily manipulate someone in a vulnerable place and when Trevor underwent "spiritual counselling" that's what I believe happened. He went to a darker place, he became paranoid about things, me especially. I saw him change his whole outlook on life and his focus became on the past, the dead and the afterlife rather than the future and moving forward. He became stuck. This went on for a few years and times everything seemed normal enough and others, well not so normal.
By the time his mother died in 2010 things had been a bit more settled but her death hit Trevor hard, he was very close to his mother and I feared a repeat of the darkness he had been to but again there was a shift and this time it was the struggle to cope more than searching for answers.
In late 2011, early 2012 the depression had taken a firm hold. For Trevor though he couldn't accept the fact that he was depressed, he viewed his feelings as him being lazy and he searched for ways out of it by throwing himself into projects, trying to keep himself as busy as he could but you cant mask it, if its there then there really is no escape. He started to attend his GP for CBT (Cognitive Behavioural Therapy) and it is a good treatment but unfortunately Trevor's illness was too progressed for it to help him at that time, a few years earlier maybe but not then at that point. Anti-depressants were prescribed but unfortunately he deteriorated further and the GP was worried about his low mood and we were referred to the Crisis Team, I took leave from work to be there with him every day. Some nights he slept, some he didn't. He always felt worse in the mornings, very low after waking up and he talked about taking his life on a daily basis. His medication was changed time and again but it just wasn't helping so in March of 2012 we agreed to undergo ECT (electroconvulsive therapy) which fortunately he was able to do as an outpatient. He had this treatment twice a week for 6 weeks, 12 sessions in total. I went with him every time, saw him being taken down on the bed, waited on him coming back out half hour later teary and emotional. It was heartbreaking knowing what was happening to him but we were desperate and would have tried anything at that stage. Half way through the treatment he said he didn't feel it was helping but by the end of the course he really was a different person. I could see so much of "the old him" back. Things were finally looking like they were improving after so long. He could accept (partly) that he suffered from depression and was looking forward, no thoughts of life not worth living, no intentions to end his life, he was looking to the future.
Slowly things started to settle down again and I was able to go back to work full time. Ella was born in July 2013, we were planning to build our own home, Trevor was starting to get himself back into living again and the future looked a lot brighter for us. Then in late 2015, early 2016 his mood just dipped again. It was heart wrenching to watch it happen again. This time it happened quicker, I wouldn't say instant but a lot quicker, he saw the Crisis Team again early March and was admitted to hospital on 22nd. I wanted to be able to care for him again at home but with Ella now in the mix too there were more things to consider and both he and the Doctors felt he would be better in hospital. After a couple of weeks they began ECT treatments again, he had 11 sessions in total, there was an improvement but they just didn't have the same effect as the first time. He was released home after 7 weeks but was only home for a few days when he was readmitted, he just couldn't cope, he had suicidal thoughts again and he just wanted us to get on with our lives and leave him in hospital for the rest of his life, we'd be better off, in his words and opinion.
After a couple of weeks he was due to be released home again when he self harmed, in hospital. His medication was again changed and he was prescribed Lithium. After 5 weeks he was ready for home, yes he was not near his "normal" self but as close as we had seen in a long time, he wanted home, he felt so isolated in hospital and we both felt it was detrimental to his recovery, the Dr agreed and he was allowed home. To me he really was improving, he realised he had a long journey but he wanted so desperately to get better and move on. One of the major problems for Trevor was that medication had no effect, it didn't matter what they tried, it made no difference to his mood. The Doctors and Mental Health Team all acknowledged this and accepted that a different course of treatment would be needed for Trevor and we had been waiting on a referral for counselling as Trevor responded better to this form of treatment than actual medication. Unfortunately the referral letter hadnt even come through by the time he died.
So thats basically Trevor's story with his depression, shortened down from 10 years into a few paragraphs. For me the worst thing was watching it happen and not be able to do anything about it. Once we got past the stage that I wasnt "messing with his head" and trying to kill him (I kid you not!) then he did talk to me about how he felt. By 10 or 11 each morning you could rest assured I'd have had at least 3 texts or calls because mornings were hard for him. To the outside he was ok, yes those who were close to him knew of his struggle to cope with the deaths and he would become very emotional about talking about them but I dont think anyone realised just how bad it was, just by looking at him. Albeit he did during the last phase of his illness loss a lot of weight and really didnt look like "my" Trevor, but he was still in there, I'm only sorry I couldnt bring him back to us x
This post has been a longer one and I hope some of you managed to get to this point, thanks again for bearing with me, youve all been such a great support.
So, we all are fully aware of the stigma surrounding mental health, basically us humans function well at most things but for a lot when it comes to dealing with emotions basically we are crap, pure and simple and mental health issues are just not talked about, we should just be able to give ourselves a shake and get on with things, right?? Well not so true for a lot of people unfortunately, if it were that simple I wouldn't be where I am today.
For us it all started when out of tragic circumstances Trevor was left without his brother and mother within a three year period. I know a lot of people deal with death and have lost parents, partners, children, family etc etc, it happens yes but everyone deals with death differently and for Trevor it was the loss of his brother aged 38 to suicide and his mother three years later to breast cancer that was the trigger for his breakdown and his clinical depression.
The change came gradually, it wasn't something that just happened overnight, not like a switch turning on or off, it was little changes spread over time. After his brother died he sought out ways of understanding, that was the big thing with him, he just didn't understand how it could come to that and went looking for answers. In doing so he came across a lot of spiritual practices, some of which I am sure did help but unfortunately a lot did exactly the opposite. Now I am not knocking people's beliefs, far from it, but what you have to understand is that there are some people out there who can very easily manipulate someone in a vulnerable place and when Trevor underwent "spiritual counselling" that's what I believe happened. He went to a darker place, he became paranoid about things, me especially. I saw him change his whole outlook on life and his focus became on the past, the dead and the afterlife rather than the future and moving forward. He became stuck. This went on for a few years and times everything seemed normal enough and others, well not so normal.
By the time his mother died in 2010 things had been a bit more settled but her death hit Trevor hard, he was very close to his mother and I feared a repeat of the darkness he had been to but again there was a shift and this time it was the struggle to cope more than searching for answers.
In late 2011, early 2012 the depression had taken a firm hold. For Trevor though he couldn't accept the fact that he was depressed, he viewed his feelings as him being lazy and he searched for ways out of it by throwing himself into projects, trying to keep himself as busy as he could but you cant mask it, if its there then there really is no escape. He started to attend his GP for CBT (Cognitive Behavioural Therapy) and it is a good treatment but unfortunately Trevor's illness was too progressed for it to help him at that time, a few years earlier maybe but not then at that point. Anti-depressants were prescribed but unfortunately he deteriorated further and the GP was worried about his low mood and we were referred to the Crisis Team, I took leave from work to be there with him every day. Some nights he slept, some he didn't. He always felt worse in the mornings, very low after waking up and he talked about taking his life on a daily basis. His medication was changed time and again but it just wasn't helping so in March of 2012 we agreed to undergo ECT (electroconvulsive therapy) which fortunately he was able to do as an outpatient. He had this treatment twice a week for 6 weeks, 12 sessions in total. I went with him every time, saw him being taken down on the bed, waited on him coming back out half hour later teary and emotional. It was heartbreaking knowing what was happening to him but we were desperate and would have tried anything at that stage. Half way through the treatment he said he didn't feel it was helping but by the end of the course he really was a different person. I could see so much of "the old him" back. Things were finally looking like they were improving after so long. He could accept (partly) that he suffered from depression and was looking forward, no thoughts of life not worth living, no intentions to end his life, he was looking to the future.
Slowly things started to settle down again and I was able to go back to work full time. Ella was born in July 2013, we were planning to build our own home, Trevor was starting to get himself back into living again and the future looked a lot brighter for us. Then in late 2015, early 2016 his mood just dipped again. It was heart wrenching to watch it happen again. This time it happened quicker, I wouldn't say instant but a lot quicker, he saw the Crisis Team again early March and was admitted to hospital on 22nd. I wanted to be able to care for him again at home but with Ella now in the mix too there were more things to consider and both he and the Doctors felt he would be better in hospital. After a couple of weeks they began ECT treatments again, he had 11 sessions in total, there was an improvement but they just didn't have the same effect as the first time. He was released home after 7 weeks but was only home for a few days when he was readmitted, he just couldn't cope, he had suicidal thoughts again and he just wanted us to get on with our lives and leave him in hospital for the rest of his life, we'd be better off, in his words and opinion.
After a couple of weeks he was due to be released home again when he self harmed, in hospital. His medication was again changed and he was prescribed Lithium. After 5 weeks he was ready for home, yes he was not near his "normal" self but as close as we had seen in a long time, he wanted home, he felt so isolated in hospital and we both felt it was detrimental to his recovery, the Dr agreed and he was allowed home. To me he really was improving, he realised he had a long journey but he wanted so desperately to get better and move on. One of the major problems for Trevor was that medication had no effect, it didn't matter what they tried, it made no difference to his mood. The Doctors and Mental Health Team all acknowledged this and accepted that a different course of treatment would be needed for Trevor and we had been waiting on a referral for counselling as Trevor responded better to this form of treatment than actual medication. Unfortunately the referral letter hadnt even come through by the time he died.
So thats basically Trevor's story with his depression, shortened down from 10 years into a few paragraphs. For me the worst thing was watching it happen and not be able to do anything about it. Once we got past the stage that I wasnt "messing with his head" and trying to kill him (I kid you not!) then he did talk to me about how he felt. By 10 or 11 each morning you could rest assured I'd have had at least 3 texts or calls because mornings were hard for him. To the outside he was ok, yes those who were close to him knew of his struggle to cope with the deaths and he would become very emotional about talking about them but I dont think anyone realised just how bad it was, just by looking at him. Albeit he did during the last phase of his illness loss a lot of weight and really didnt look like "my" Trevor, but he was still in there, I'm only sorry I couldnt bring him back to us x
This post has been a longer one and I hope some of you managed to get to this point, thanks again for bearing with me, youve all been such a great support.
Thursday, 28 September 2017
The Day Of
So, how did that day start out? Well, normally like any other Tuesday, a mad dash around in the morning to get me up and dressed, Ella up and dressed and us both out to drop Ella at childminders and me into work, relatively on time!
We had a routine, I'd get dressed, get Ella's clothes all ready while Trevor made and gave her breakfast. Nothing different noted. We left the house a bit late, as usual, me running around panicking, Ella popped in car, kiss goodbye, love you, see you later, ring me any problems etc etc. Off we went and little did I know that would be the last time I'd see him alive. If I had known would I have done anything different? You bloody bet I would have, I wouldnt have left for a start! Were there any indications, little changes that I could see, no, absolutely nothing. I have went over and over and over again that morning and there was just nothing.
Text message at 09.45am "you dont fancy any fish this evening", I replied yes that would be nice, reply at 10.16am "what type ordinary white or cod", I replied any type would be grand, that was the last contact. I tried to call him in the afternoon as he had an appointment with the local Mental Health Community unit at 1pm, no answer. Wasnt unusual because of poor signal so I had no reason to suspect anything. I picked Ella up, got home at around 5.55pm, pulled in the driveway as usual, noticed his van parked a little strangely and said to Ella "what has your daddy gone and bought now!", went inside the house and he wasnt there. Went upstairs, shouted on him, nothing. Tried to call the mobile and next thought was that he had gone for a cycle, he would do that often, straight to voicemail. This was the point when something in me clicked, I cant explain it but I had that sinking feeling something wasnt right. I told Ella to stay in the house, I'd check the garage, nothing, phew was my thought. But where could he be? Talking to someone somewhere probably, he could out talk any woman any day!
That was when I looked in the van, I think it was more for clues what he had been doing, I never expected to find him. I really cant put into words what it felt like when I opened that door, only that I will have that image in my head as long as I live, it doesnt fade, doesnt get easier, doesnt go away, it will be with me forever, without a doubt. The next half hour or so was a blur, I rang emergency services, answered their questions, I think!, went to pieces, called family, calmed Ella down as best I could, waited for ambulance to arrive. All the time I thought he'd be ok, I know that sounds absolutely absurd but I did. Ambulance arrived, no flashing lights, just an ambulance paramedic in car, he'd sort him out I reckoned. But there would be no quick fix, or long one for that. He was gone, I'd never talk to him again, never see his smile, nothing! This was it.
After that the police arrived, detectives, more police, statements taken, questions asked, had to wait for the coroner to arrive, had to formally identify "the body", coroner arrived and then I had to say goodbye. I remember saying to the coroner, "he's cold, keep him warm", I kissed him and told him I was sorry I let him down and his last journey from the home we had shared for 18 years began.
I cant describe how I felt at this point, numb comes close. How did this happen? Why did this happen? What were we going to do, how were we going to get through this?? My husband, my partner, my right arm, was gone, I should have been able to save him and I didnt. I still feel a little like this and I guess I always will. We all know the stigma around suicides, the statistics, especially among men, its talked about but its not really understood, its like we ignore mental health issues because they wont happen to us, well they do, every day, right now someone out there is contemplating taking their own life and that is just a fact, a very very sad fact but its true nonetheless.
Why am I writing all this? What do I want to achieve from it? I dont know, I just know that I need to. I am sorry if this is hard to read and I understand if you think that I shouldnt but if you do read this then know that I appreciate it, its another person remembering, thats all I ask for.
If you do want to leave a comment then do, even if you dont know what to say, just an "x", let me know you are there.
We had a routine, I'd get dressed, get Ella's clothes all ready while Trevor made and gave her breakfast. Nothing different noted. We left the house a bit late, as usual, me running around panicking, Ella popped in car, kiss goodbye, love you, see you later, ring me any problems etc etc. Off we went and little did I know that would be the last time I'd see him alive. If I had known would I have done anything different? You bloody bet I would have, I wouldnt have left for a start! Were there any indications, little changes that I could see, no, absolutely nothing. I have went over and over and over again that morning and there was just nothing.
Text message at 09.45am "you dont fancy any fish this evening", I replied yes that would be nice, reply at 10.16am "what type ordinary white or cod", I replied any type would be grand, that was the last contact. I tried to call him in the afternoon as he had an appointment with the local Mental Health Community unit at 1pm, no answer. Wasnt unusual because of poor signal so I had no reason to suspect anything. I picked Ella up, got home at around 5.55pm, pulled in the driveway as usual, noticed his van parked a little strangely and said to Ella "what has your daddy gone and bought now!", went inside the house and he wasnt there. Went upstairs, shouted on him, nothing. Tried to call the mobile and next thought was that he had gone for a cycle, he would do that often, straight to voicemail. This was the point when something in me clicked, I cant explain it but I had that sinking feeling something wasnt right. I told Ella to stay in the house, I'd check the garage, nothing, phew was my thought. But where could he be? Talking to someone somewhere probably, he could out talk any woman any day!
That was when I looked in the van, I think it was more for clues what he had been doing, I never expected to find him. I really cant put into words what it felt like when I opened that door, only that I will have that image in my head as long as I live, it doesnt fade, doesnt get easier, doesnt go away, it will be with me forever, without a doubt. The next half hour or so was a blur, I rang emergency services, answered their questions, I think!, went to pieces, called family, calmed Ella down as best I could, waited for ambulance to arrive. All the time I thought he'd be ok, I know that sounds absolutely absurd but I did. Ambulance arrived, no flashing lights, just an ambulance paramedic in car, he'd sort him out I reckoned. But there would be no quick fix, or long one for that. He was gone, I'd never talk to him again, never see his smile, nothing! This was it.
After that the police arrived, detectives, more police, statements taken, questions asked, had to wait for the coroner to arrive, had to formally identify "the body", coroner arrived and then I had to say goodbye. I remember saying to the coroner, "he's cold, keep him warm", I kissed him and told him I was sorry I let him down and his last journey from the home we had shared for 18 years began.
I cant describe how I felt at this point, numb comes close. How did this happen? Why did this happen? What were we going to do, how were we going to get through this?? My husband, my partner, my right arm, was gone, I should have been able to save him and I didnt. I still feel a little like this and I guess I always will. We all know the stigma around suicides, the statistics, especially among men, its talked about but its not really understood, its like we ignore mental health issues because they wont happen to us, well they do, every day, right now someone out there is contemplating taking their own life and that is just a fact, a very very sad fact but its true nonetheless.
Why am I writing all this? What do I want to achieve from it? I dont know, I just know that I need to. I am sorry if this is hard to read and I understand if you think that I shouldnt but if you do read this then know that I appreciate it, its another person remembering, thats all I ask for.
If you do want to leave a comment then do, even if you dont know what to say, just an "x", let me know you are there.
Tuesday, 26 September 2017
Lets Begin ..
Lets begin with an introduction shall we?
The reasons for me starting this blog? Well, on 9th August 2016 my world shattered in pieces when I lost my husband. I was 38 and he was only 42. We had been married for 12 years and had a three year old daughter. We had been together for 22 years.
It was the most horrific day of my life, plain and simple, cant put it any other way and the days, weeks, months that passed didnt get much easier, life goes on yes but its not the same and never will be.
"The day of" passed and a new day dawned. With it brought the first day after with the first question my daughter asking me was "is daddy still dead". How do you answer this? Why should you have to be faced with this question in the first place? What did I do to deserve to be in this position? I didnt have the answer and still dont. It was all still such a blur, did it really happen, will he just walk in as if nothing happened, I hoped so, still do even a year on, crazy isnt it!
Next came the funeral arrangements, what???? Really?? Who had died??? Well I felt like it was me. Picking out clothes for my husband to wear in his coffin - unreal, unfair, shouldnt be happening, but it was and it had to be done. Flowers for the funeral, readings for the service, arrangements for the funeral director. The sudden fleeting realisation I am a widow, this is not changing, this is real, only for it to pass again, sure its not real, its all some sort of mix-up, cant be happening.
Two days on and the funeral - how on earth am I supposed to do this, please dont make me do this. I cant remember much about it, the funeral home, seeing the coffin, not real, seeing him physically for the last time, he didnt really look real, sitting through the service hearing his name read out, still not happening, seeing the coffin being lowered into the ground and covered over, I really dont have the words, you cant prepare yourself for this, I crumbled, quite literally. The rest of the day passed in a total haze, I shook hands with people I knew and loved, people I didnt particularly like and total strangers, wondering all the while why they were there.
The empty house came next, people came and went and with them went a little bit of reality. What was I to do now? Soon I'd be on my own with our daughter, just the two of us and life would carry on. Everyone had an opinion but basically it was all going to "take time", "time would heal", "get yourself back to normal", what was normal anymore, this sure as hell was not what I'd call normal.
What makes me any different from anyone else who has lost their partner, or anyone close for that matter? Well nothing really. We all deal with things differently, this is just my story of how I did and how I felt. If this in any way helps one person well its been worth it and if it doesnt, its still worth it because I tried.
On 9th August 2016 I lost my husband .... to suicide, I found him at home, I was aged 38, he was 42, we were a family, we had a three year old daughter.
The reasons for me starting this blog? Well, on 9th August 2016 my world shattered in pieces when I lost my husband. I was 38 and he was only 42. We had been married for 12 years and had a three year old daughter. We had been together for 22 years.
It was the most horrific day of my life, plain and simple, cant put it any other way and the days, weeks, months that passed didnt get much easier, life goes on yes but its not the same and never will be.
"The day of" passed and a new day dawned. With it brought the first day after with the first question my daughter asking me was "is daddy still dead". How do you answer this? Why should you have to be faced with this question in the first place? What did I do to deserve to be in this position? I didnt have the answer and still dont. It was all still such a blur, did it really happen, will he just walk in as if nothing happened, I hoped so, still do even a year on, crazy isnt it!
Next came the funeral arrangements, what???? Really?? Who had died??? Well I felt like it was me. Picking out clothes for my husband to wear in his coffin - unreal, unfair, shouldnt be happening, but it was and it had to be done. Flowers for the funeral, readings for the service, arrangements for the funeral director. The sudden fleeting realisation I am a widow, this is not changing, this is real, only for it to pass again, sure its not real, its all some sort of mix-up, cant be happening.
Two days on and the funeral - how on earth am I supposed to do this, please dont make me do this. I cant remember much about it, the funeral home, seeing the coffin, not real, seeing him physically for the last time, he didnt really look real, sitting through the service hearing his name read out, still not happening, seeing the coffin being lowered into the ground and covered over, I really dont have the words, you cant prepare yourself for this, I crumbled, quite literally. The rest of the day passed in a total haze, I shook hands with people I knew and loved, people I didnt particularly like and total strangers, wondering all the while why they were there.
The empty house came next, people came and went and with them went a little bit of reality. What was I to do now? Soon I'd be on my own with our daughter, just the two of us and life would carry on. Everyone had an opinion but basically it was all going to "take time", "time would heal", "get yourself back to normal", what was normal anymore, this sure as hell was not what I'd call normal.
What makes me any different from anyone else who has lost their partner, or anyone close for that matter? Well nothing really. We all deal with things differently, this is just my story of how I did and how I felt. If this in any way helps one person well its been worth it and if it doesnt, its still worth it because I tried.
On 9th August 2016 I lost my husband .... to suicide, I found him at home, I was aged 38, he was 42, we were a family, we had a three year old daughter.
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