27 days.

Posted by@notthisendingPosted inUncategorized

If I had the chance, I would tell you that the day you die, so will I.

I would hear you, really hear you, not listen and offer solutions.

I would encourage you to see what an amazing person you are and what an exciting future lay ahead.

I would tell you that what you are feeling now, isn’t the way you are always going to feel.

I would remind you that I love you unconditionally and I will take care of you. I would let you rest your eyes, but I would be there waiting for you when you woke.

I would deal with all those things that felt overwhelming so you didn’t have to. I would talk with you about anything you wanted to talk about, for however long.

I would hold your hands and smell your skin and your hair. I would stay with you until however long it took for you to feel strong enough, forever if I needed to. I would tell you that my hopes and dreams are only possible because of you.

I would tell you that without you, there would be nothing.

I would tell you that the struggle would kill me.

If I had the chance, I would tell you over and over that you are my world, all the world.

If I had the chance, I would remind you that I will always have you, no matter what, because I think, for a short time, you forgot. I love you more than all the people and all the animals and all the living things in all this world and universe, all that love put together, I love you more than that.

How could you forget that?

Published by @notthisending

I am Lisa. I am mum to Liam, Jaden and Farran and they are my absolute world. On March 21st 2021, my eldest son, Liam, took his own life. He was 22 years old. My life ended in that moment. It was, and always will be, the absolute worst. The colours drained from my life and everything turned black. The before me; I loved the simple things in life; thunderstorms, coffee and cake, a good book, fresh bedding, a nice walk, the smell of spring, and of course, I love my children, unconditionally. If they’re happy then I’m happy. And I was happy. I would probably have described myself as boring with the sense of humour of a small child who could giggle and find the funny in almost anything. The after me. The me now; Now I’m not sure. I get up in the mornings and I do my best. I’m not quite sure about anything else. The happy definitely left. I desperately miss the boring and predictable life I had before. Now I just exist. I have been thrown into this dark place where people bereaved by suicide are clinging on to the threads of their tattered lives trying to make sense of something that can never be made sense of. I made a promise to myself to never be quiet about this. I want to talk about the struggles and the darkness. I want to talk about suicide and the destruction it leaves in its wake. And I want to talk about my son.

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