185 Days. Still shit but different.

It’s been a while since I wrote anything. Things haven’t been great. I can’t find the words. I haven’t really cared enough about anything or anyone really. I haven’t ‘become accustomed to’ or ‘adjusted to’ this god awful nightmare that is now my life. I still curse the universe when I realise I am still alive on a morning and I still think it’s more likely that I’ll hear Liam shouting hello as he walks through the door than it is that I’ll never see his beautiful face again. But, I know that’s not going to happen, he isn’t going to walk through the door, that’s just more believable than the awful reality. Things still feel just as shit, and I hate my life but it’s different.

Be under no illusions, things have not become any better, not at all, time does not heal all wounds and whoever thinks that has likely not lost a child. But the different is not all bad. Some days I feel I want to conquer the world in Liam’s honour, other days I take a cocktail of tablets and hope I never have to see the light of day again. But those thoughts of actively wanting to end my life are less frequent. I still hate my life and myself, but I don’t hate everyone else. And I did.

I have realised that I am capable of such intense anger. I was angry at the people who I thought would come but didn’t, and at those who came. I was angry at those who didn’t say anything and at those who did. I think it was impossible for anyone to ‘do the right thing’ because I didn’t know what that was. If it didn’t bring back my son then what was the point? I didn’t have a clue what I wanted. ‘I’m here if you need anything’ was so unhelpful to me because I didn’t know what I needed. I realised what was helpful to me was those who stuck with me during my anger. Those who were consistent and just allowed me to vent and rage. Those people who did not make me feel any worse than I already did by judging me.

I also realise now, that other people are also hurting. I am not the only person who has lost Liam. He mattered to so many other people and these other people mattered to him. I feel such a strong connection now to the people who were special to Liam, because, as Liam’s grandma said to me; ‘Liam is ours’. I feel comfort now in this, which is something I didn’t feel before. I know we are alone is this grief journey but these people help me feel less alone.

I might have mentioned a few times already that I still hate everything about my life and I do not want to be here. But, the desire to not let this be for nothing is more often that not, stronger than my desire to leave. If I am not here, who will be Liam’s voice? Who will continue to spread his light and say his name in the way I will? And this is what drives me now. It isn’t strength, I am far from strong. But in the same way I am capable of such intense anger, I am also capable of so much love. And I never imagined I could love or feel passionate about anything ever again.

But I do and in the same way that Liam touched the lives of everyone he loved in his life, I want to continue to shine his light and touch the lives of others, to be his voice, to raise awareness around suicide and loss by suicide. So that is what I will try to do.

In the early days and weeks, I felt such despair. Physical pain that tore through my body and made me vomit. It didn’t matter where I was, or who with, it would come regardless. The uncontrollable screams and cries, urges to hit my head on the wall, to pull out my hair and claw at my arms and my face until I bled. The days just turned to night then night to day again but I was oblivious. I didn’t care if I ate, I didn’t wash or change my clothes. I think 8 days is my all time best. I still don’t always but I never imagined in those early days that I would be here 6 months later. Being here half a year later, without my son, was not even something I could contemplate. I often feel like I’m watching someone else’s life, like none of this is real. I remember reading that it is possible to survive a loss like this and that joy could exist alongside grief. This is not something I have experienced in these 6 months. I don’t feel joy or contentment and I also can’t imagine ever feeling that again. But I think it’s important not to think about that, not to think about the future because at this point, a future feeling like this, without our child is just beyond overwhelming.

I remember in those early days, reaching out to others, desperate for someone to help. for soemone to give me an amazing piece of life changing advice that would make some of these awful feelings go away, something that would make this bearable. But there is nothing that anyone can say to make this go away. But there is this community of amazing people who get you. They know that there is nothing they can say to ease your pain because they have also lost a child. They tell you to remember to breathe, to put one foot in front of the other, to scream and cry and shout. They know you can’t bear the pain and that you want to die. But they will share their raw and heartbreaking stories with brutal honesty and you will wonder if there could possibly be a glimmer of hope. They don’t ever tell you that things will get better and you wonder then how they are still here. How are these people still alive if this never gets any better? How has their heart not stopped? They don’t tell you this because this wouldn’t be the truth, because there really is no getting better, just different.

With broken hearts, these people reach out to you and try to carry you with them because they know that they couldn’t see the point in anything. They know how much you are hurting. Because they are hurting too and despite this, they do not want for you to feel alone. And that is a beautiful thing.

Just know that whilst this journey is yours, and yes, it is lonely, you are absolutely not alone. Do not try to imagine the future, about how you will feel the next day or the next. Just get through the next minute, just breathe and reach out. There are many groups and somewhere within them, you will find your people. We can all hold on together.