1 year and 74 days since this nightmare began. 1 year and 74 days since I saw your face and since I heard your voice. It still feels like yesterday. Grief is weird. And it does not get ‘easier’ or ‘better’, or any of those things. The only people who will tell you that, haven’tContinue reading “439 days. No, it does not get ‘easier’.”
Author Archives: @notthisending
309 days. I am so deeply unhappy.
If you wanted an uplifting blog about finding joy and meaning then you’ve come to the wrong place. This is not that. It is just me, a grieving mum, sinking further into a pit of hopelessness and despair. Some days are worse than others, like today. I’ve found that the waves of grief are constantlyContinue reading “309 days. I am so deeply unhappy.”
305 days. It still feels like yesterday.
You have been dead for 305 days but it feels like just yesterday. The events of that day and the days leading up to it, play on a loop in my mind, over and over. There are moments when the flashbacks catapult me right back to that awful day, where I am screaming at youContinue reading “305 days. It still feels like yesterday.”
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 addressContinue reading “206 Days. If you want to know the truth, I reckon this is as bad as it gets.”
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 stillContinue reading “185 Days. Still shit but different.”
103 days. I blame myself.
103 days. As if it has been 103 days. 103 days since we spoke. Fuck this is hard. I think I am still overcome with shock. I absolutely blame myself for all of this. Everything. And that’s just how I am dealing with things right now. Guilt and blame, I am told, are normal ‘stages’Continue reading “103 days. I blame myself.”
97 Days. This really is too much of a struggle.
Today has been a real struggle. This life now is a real struggle. I am just waiting about somewhere in between life and death, not really living but not yet dead, despite the fact I feel it inside. I have no real purpose anymore. Everything I do is because I have to do it, notContinue reading “97 Days. This really is too much of a struggle.”
87 Days. I Just Can’t.
It’s been a few days since I have felt able to write anything and I wasn’t going to bother because things just seem so fucked up in my head and in all honesty, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing here anymore. But I figured it’s better out than in, no one has toContinue reading “87 Days. I Just Can’t.”
This Grief.
This grief is vast and hollow and angry and intense. It is confusing and debilitating and agonising and lonely. This grief annihilates everything in its wake. I could select a thousand different words in an attempt to explain the feelings associated with this grief but none would suffice. Words are feeble. But if you know,Continue reading “This Grief.”
74 days. I am so torn.
I miss you. Not with a fond smile or a warm feeling inside. With a relentless longing, pining, excruciating ache. Perhaps something that could be likened to having my heart ripped out of my chest and eaten by a wild animal. Obviously that would be more preferable. Anything would be. I miss the feeling IContinue reading “74 days. I am so torn.”
Not This Ending. 