206 Days. If you want to know the truth, I reckon this is as bad as it gets.

Ever since Liam died, I said I’d make as much noise as possible about the need to talk and reach out. I said I would do all I could to raise awareness about mental health and suicide and always speak out. It may make uncomfortable reading for some, I know it does, my shrinking address book is proof of that, but those aren’t my people and believe me, my life now, my life after suicide, makes me feel far worse than uncomfortable.

I wish I was one of those people who could say how much they have been able to grow and how much they have learned from their tragedy. How they are striving to be a better person, determined to be everything they loved about their person or how they love harder, forgive easier or show more empathy and compassion, to all those around them but that’s not happening. I am still completely lost in this wreckage that was once my beautiful life. I feel a whole heap of rage and resentment at the world that this is happening to me. These are feelings I have never really felt much of before and they are not a part of me that I like, but like it or not, it’s how I feel right now. Day 206. I am tired of how I feel and I am tired of other people being tired of how I feel.

Although of course I would wish this on no one, I absolutely wish I could share the ache of this excruciating pain for a little while, so that others could feel what I feel. I could try for days to explain it but there are no words that could do it justice.

You only know when you know. And I wish others knew. Just for a while.

I wish they knew so they wouldn’t use well meaning platitudes. So they wouldn’t talk to me about the elusive all powerful magic that time seems to bring. They wouldn’t use words and phrases such as ‘closure’, ‘moving on’, ‘feeling better’, or ‘letting go’. They wouldn’t talk about finding something positive in a bad situation or send stupid affirmations that should all end with ‘…unless your child died, in which case, this is useless.’

I was asked recently if i was having ‘a rough day’, a rough day?!? That is not what this is. My whole world has been violently ripped from me and I can make no sense of why, how or what the hell I do now. My life has been drained of all its colours and the beauty that once made it a comfortable, pleasant place to be, something I was always so grateful for.

I am utterly sad.

Every very single day.

And I refuse to pretend that I’m not.

I am not okay.

This really is as bad as it gets.

I was asked recently if there was ‘something in particular that was bothering me or a little bit of everything.’ I mean are you kidding me? Is this yesterdays news for you? MY CHILD IS DEAD! I don’t understand what part of that people don’t understand.

I was told that keeping busy can be a helpful distraction when you’re feeling tense, going out for a walk or taking a shower. Really, you think I’m struggling with tension? Will my child be in the bathroom when I get there? Because unless this has all been a mistake and my child is alive and in the next room, then there is nothing on this earth that will ‘distract’ me from the fact he is dead.

I have been advised to change the way i think; ‘negativity brings negativity.’ I have been shut down when talking about Liam, or about my shitty life now, like I should be able to separate myself from this horror during a conversation with someone from the real world, so as not to make them feel uncomfortable. Clearly this is not going to happen. I am completely consumed by this darkness. We constantly think about our children, this doesn’t just stop when they die.

I completely get that I am not the easiest person to be around, but I think we just have to accept that there are some things that are just absolutely shit and unjust. End of. Like the death of a child. And no inspirational meme can make this any less shit. Just let me work on accepting it for the awful nightmare that it is.

We are so inept as a society, at being around grieving people. We either avoid the elephant in the room or try to fix something which can never be fixed.

I feel utterly hopeless. Stop telling me there is always hope. No, not right now there isn’t. Will I always feel like this? It certainly feels that way but I hope not. I don’t seem to have the ability to process this in the time society seems to allow (will I ever at all?) or to think about the future without being filled with absolute dread. My child is dead and right now, things are as bad as they can get.

I am lost in a pit of despair. Feel free to sit with me while I do whatever I need to make it to tomorrow, or leave me here alone. But please don’t talk to me about holding on to hope when I’m barely holding on to anything at all.

This is my truth. It’s not all feathers and rainbows. I am living every parents worst nightmare and I am pretty certain this must be as bad as it gets. I know you don’t get it. I didn’t either before. We think we can imagine the horror but our minds don’t allow us to think such abhorrent thoughts.

Just know that no one can fix this, just let us be sad. Let us do whatever we need to do on that day, in that hour, to make it to the next. Maybe you can cope with feeling uncomfortable for a little while so that we don’t have to be. Maybe that would be a start to making things feel easier. I don’t know.

Day 206 and I still just don’t know how we do this.