The worst thing about grief is that it is ever present, lurking in the background of every thought and action. It is there forever.
I thought that Sunday would be a difficult day, I had a few drinks on Saturday night. It was a lovely night with friends. However, alcohol tends to bring out the depressive in me
But Sunday was okay. It actually made me optimistic for how I was dealing with the grief
.
Big mistake.
Today has been a whole other story.
I fled the room in tears when Reverend Tim Tom (from The Middle) starting singing a song about mums. I also cried, proper sobs, whilst walking the dog & when I was in the bath (the shower is on the blink)
I wondered what was causing the upset today, was it Rafe going back to school? Then it hit me that maybe, just maybe, it was because my daughter had been dead less than 11 weeks.
I try & keep busy as I don't want to feel the pain. But the reality is that no amount of newspaper headlines, or money raised, will change the reality. Sometimes I wonder if I'm just going to unravel, that its all going to engulf me....but I can't let it, I won't.
The best way I can describe it is one of those awful hangovers, the "never drinking again" type. When you feel like your dying but you just keep telling yourself that by 2pm you'll start to feel okay. I just don't know when my 2pm is....and I'm guessing a can of coke or a McDonald's breakfast isn't going to make it any better.
NB Just re-read this and it's abit grim. To avoid any undue alarm to family & friends I thought I'd better make it clear that I've also been shopping with the youngest for bedroom paint and new rugs today, and we had lunch in subway.....I am not sat rocking in a corner!
