Hi Kate, that is great that your husband is so helpful. We need all the help we can get at this time.
Yes, our aim is to one day reach the stage where we are able to manage our grief, we might not have happy days like we did before, but if we manage to have many happy moments a day, and reduce our days of intense suffering to maybe one or two a month, then we have done quite well, haven’t we?
Hi Everyone,
Thanks for your messages. Things are still very tough, especially the last few days. Things weren’t good with my boyfriend when he got back, he was acting as if nothing had happened, didn’t even ask how I was. This made me feel even worse. I spoke to him about it yesterday and explained how I felt, so things have been a bit better since. I told him how much I am struggling and that I really need his support right now.
@Abdullah I completely know what you mean about waves of grief, that’s exactly what they feel like. One moment you could be doing ok and then it just hits you from nowhere. It’s very unpredictable. It’s good to know that this is normal. My aunty is a great help, she believes my Mum’s spirit is still with us and that gives me some comfort. I can hear her talking to me in my head sometimes. Whether or not it is just my imagination it is nice to feel close to her. My aunty is coping ok, I feel like she is feeling similar to me, but as self centred as it sounds I don’t feel like anyone is in as much pain as me right now. My Mum was everything to me, there is a huge void in my life and heart. Everything feels wrong without her.
I have a second round job interview later today. I hate interviews at the best of times! And I’m not even that keen on this job so not sure why I’m putting myself through it. The job at my current employer (that I’ve just been made redundant from) may be the best option right now. But they are being very slow at getting back to me. I really think that some structure in my day and something to take my mind off my Mum would help me.
@K8paz I like the analogy of about the pebble. I think I can safely say my grief is the boulder right now, all we can do is hope that things will become easier eventually. Life will never be the same now, but I know my Mum would want me to be happy and I don’t want to waste this life that she has given me.
@C1971 I’m so glad that you have your husband to support you. How have you been doing lately?
Sending you all love. Jade x
Hi jade
I’m just permanently sad and miss mum with every ounce of my being. I don’t think it will ever get better than this. She has now been gone 15 months and time is not a healer. Not for me anyway.
Of course the initial trauma and shock subside and I get on with what I have to do. Work, housework, garden and look after a child. But I’m never happy, never find myself looking forward to anything and have become a recluse. I never yearn to socialise or see friends. Sadly the lockdown has suited me because friends havent pressured me to go out or do anything and that suits me
I hope the chat with your boyfriend has helped. I doubt he has been deliberately insensitive. I found with my partner that he just didnt know what to say. I’m upset about the lack of talking about mum yet I’m upset when we do talk about her. So he really cant win.
It is difficult. We are forever changed as people without our mums arent we?
X
Hi @Jade7,
That’s sad that your boyfriend did not even ask how you were, but it is good that he at least acknowledges your suffering, which suggests he wasn’t being unkind. It’s probably just that guys often struggle when they see someone suffering and don’t know what to say so they just try and ignore the problem. There was a post by @prettygreeneyes where she stated how upset she was when her husband went to see the Grand Prix when her mum was ill, again, it seems a case of a guy who doesn’t mean to be insensitive ending up being that way because he doesn’t know what to do. Sadly her mum passed away recently - hope she’s doing as well as one can in her awful circumstance.
There was a post by @Daffy123 where she gave a really good analogy of waves of grief, I don’t know which topic she posted it under, Daffy, do you still have it?
Currently I am doing better than a few weeks ago, thankfully. I don’t know whether this is because my medication is now kicking in, or because I haven’t been to see mum for a month, as that really stresses me as I hate going there and not seeing dad - at the same time, I love my mum so much and hate not seeing her either. It seems like a lose-lose situation. Maybe it is because the football season has started, and so I can just lie in bed and put the radio on, or maybe it is just a good wave that I am on. Who knows? I am just grateful that even though I am not getting up and showered till the afternoon, I at least am not feeling anxious most of the day.
The flat I was looking to move into in Lewisham in July but which went to someone else is back on the market. I don’t know what happened, but I like the flat. If I ask my friend to employ me at his company next month, it will be just a bus ride away, as opposed to travelling on the train from outside London. But I don’t know if I want to move now. At least here I have housemates I can talk to, if I move, I will be alone in my own flat. It is unfurnished, so I will have the stress of buying a bed and sofa and wardrobes and have you what. And what if my anxiety and depression gets worse again like a few weeks ago, after I move? I will have all the stress of finding a new GP, new mental health team, new everything, and I just don’t know if I am ready for that. At the same time, if I don’t move, I feel as if I am not progressing with life. Have no idea what to do.
Have you heard back from the work place about the job? We both seem to be in the same boat - we need structure in our lives to get our mind off things, but we’re unsure whether what we are going for will help. It is so difficult. How we wish my dad and your mum were still here so we could talk to them and ask their advice. That is great that your aunty is a great comfort to you, she sounds like a lovely woman.
Sorry to hear you are permanently sad, @C1971, I hope you’re able to have more happy moments during the day than you currently do. It’s so difficult Cheryl, you loved your mum so much, the loss is just so profound.
How are you doing @K8paz, hope things are ok today.
Please take care all.
@C1971 Hi Cheryl, I’m sorry to hear that you are feeling so sad. I found it very difficult to get out of bed today knowing I had to face another day without my Mum. Do you go to any kind of counselling at all? I know that you are still struggling 15 months on and so feel that you will never feel any better, but everyone’s grief is different and I think we have to have hope that there are better days ahead. You are right that we are permanently changed, I don’t think life will never feel ‘normal’ again without our Mums. I struggle to describe the emptiness I feel now that she has gone. There is nobody in the world that I love more than her.
@Abdullah I’m so happy to hear that you have been feeling better. It’s hard to know what changes we should make to our lives when we are feeling so vulnerable isn’t it. Would it be a manageable commute to the job from where you live now? Maybe starting a new job first whilst staying where you are would be a good start so as not to change to many aspects of your life at once, and you could look into moving once you had settled in the job? I’m sure there will always be other flats that come up which you would like. I think it’s important that you have the company of your housemates to talk to. But obviously you should do what you feel is right for you at the moment.
As requested by Abdullah. I hope everyone finds it helpful.
An old mans answer to a question - My friends just died I don’t know what to do?
"Alright, here goes. I’m old. What that means is that I’ve survived (so far) and a lot of people I’ve known and loved did not. I’ve lost friends, best friends, acquaintances, co-workers, grandparents, mom, relatives, teachers, mentors, students, neighbors, and a host of other folks. I have no children, and I can’t imagine the pain it must be to lose a child. But here’s my two cents.
I wish I could say you get used to people dying. I never did. I don’t want to. It tears a hole through me whenever somebody I love dies, no matter the circumstances. But I don’t want it to “not matter”. I don’t want it to be something that just passes. My scars are a testament to the love and the relationship that I had for and with that person. And if the scar is deep, so was the love. So be it. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are a testament that I can love deeply and live deeply and be cut, or even gouged, and that I can heal and continue to live and continue to love. And the scar tissue is stronger than the original flesh ever was. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are only ugly to people who can’t see.
As for grief, you’ll find it comes in waves. When the ship is first wrecked, you’re drowning, with wreckage all around you. Everything floating around you reminds you of the beauty and the magnificence of the ship that was, and is no more. And all you can do is float. You find some piece of the wreckage and you hang on for a while. Maybe it’s some physical thing. Maybe it’s a happy memory or a photograph. Maybe it’s a person who is also floating. For a while, all you can do is float. Stay alive.
In the beginning, the waves are 100 feet tall and crash over you without mercy. They come 10 seconds apart and don’t even give you time to catch your breath. All you can do is hang on and float. After a while, maybe weeks, maybe months, you’ll find the waves are still 100 feet tall, but they come further apart. When they come, they still crash all over you and wipe you out. But in between, you can breathe, you can function. You never know what’s going to trigger the grief. It might be a song, a picture, a street intersection, the smell of a cup of coffee. It can be just about anything…and the wave comes crashing. But in between waves, there is life.
Somewhere down the line, and it’s different for everybody, you find that the waves are only 80 feet tall. Or 50 feet tall. And while they still come, they come further apart. You can see them coming. An anniversary, a birthday, or Christmas, or landing at O’Hare. You can see it coming, for the most part, and prepare yourself. And when it washes over you, you know that somehow you will, again, come out the other side. Soaking wet, sputtering, still hanging on to some tiny piece of the wreckage, but you’ll come out.
Take it from an old guy. The waves never stop coming, and somehow you don’t really want them to. But you learn that you’ll survive them. And other waves will come. And you’ll survive them too. If you’re lucky, you’ll have lots of scars from lots of loves. And lots of shipwrecks".
"Alright, here goes. I’m old. What that means is that I’ve survived (so far) and a lot of people I’ve known and loved did not. I’ve lost friends, best friends, acquaintances, co-workers, grandparents, mom, relatives, teachers, mentors, students, neighbors, and a host of other folks. I have no children, and I can’t imagine the pain it must be to lose a child. But here’s my two cents.
I wish I could say you get used to people dying. I never did. I don’t want to. It tears a hole through me whenever somebody I love dies, no matter the circumstances. But I don’t want it to “not matter”. I don’t want it to be something that just passes. My scars are a testament to the love and the relationship that I had for and with that person. And if the scar is deep, so was the love. So be it. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are a testament that I can love deeply and live deeply and be cut, or even gouged, and that I can heal and continue to live and continue to love. And the scar tissue is stronger than the original flesh ever was. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are only ugly to people who can’t see.
As for grief, you’ll find it comes in waves. When the ship is first wrecked, you’re drowning, with wreckage all around you. Everything floating around you reminds you of the beauty and the magnificence of the ship that was, and is no more. And all you can do is float. You find some piece of the wreckage and you hang on for a while. Maybe it’s some physical thing. Maybe it’s a happy memory or a photograph. Maybe it’s a person who is also floating. For a while, all you can do is float. Stay alive.
In the beginning, the waves are 100 feet tall and crash over you without mercy. They come 10 seconds apart and don’t even give you time to catch your breath. All you can do is hang on and float. After a while, maybe weeks, maybe months, you’ll find the waves are still 100 feet tall, but they come further apart. When they come, they still crash all over you and wipe you out. But in between, you can breathe, you can function. You never know what’s going to trigger the grief. It might be a song, a picture, a street intersection, the smell of a cup of coffee. It can be just about anything…and the wave comes crashing. But in between waves, there is life.
Somewhere down the line, and it’s different for everybody, you find that the waves are only 80 feet tall. Or 50 feet tall. And while they still come, they come further apart. You can see them coming. An anniversary, a birthday, or Christmas, or landing at O’Hare. You can see it coming, for the most part, and prepare yourself. And when it washes over you, you know that somehow you will, again, come out the other side. Soaking wet, sputtering, still hanging on to some tiny piece of the wreckage, but you’ll come out.
Take it from an old guy. The waves never stop coming, and somehow you don’t really want them to. But you learn that you’ll survive them. And other waves will come. And you’ll survive them too. If you’re lucky, you’ll have lots of scars from lots of loves. And lots of shipwrecks".
Thanks jade. Hope you are ok today x
Dear @Jade7,
You’re correct, it is probably not a good idea to move yet. The one bedroom flat in Lewisham is 1200pcm, normally a flat like that would be 1400pcm, so by the time I am ready to move, I will be paying 200pcm more for a similar flat, but so be it, spoke to a friend today on the phone and he said the same thing as you, so once I have sorted out my work for certain, only then will I move.
There is a new housemate who moved in last month, a guy in his 40s who works as a binman in Greenwich, I told him about my dad, and he said anytime I need to talk to him, I can, as he has lost both his parents. His mum was an alcoholic and the kids were taken away from her when he was 4, she was put in a mental hospital, and a few weeks later she died of a brain clot. How sad. But you’re correct, I have housemates here who I can talk to, moving to Lewisham in my own flat will be lonely and probably not what I need at the moment.
How is your anxiety? Have you heard back from the job interview? I hope things are a bit calmer in your life and that you’re getting on with your partner, he seems like a nice guy and hopefully you will both make things work.
Take care for now.
(Thanks @Daffy123, hope you and Cheryl are doing ok).
Hi jade
I did try bereavement counselling. I had 6 sessions about 4 months after she died.
However it wasnt for me and I wouldn’t do it again. To sit for 45 minutes and cry in front of a stranger who is paid to be there was awful for me.
However there are plenty of people who swear by counselling.
It’s just that I’m very negative. If it wasnt going to bring my mum back I didnt have any faith in it.
I dont think I will be much better than this in 15 years time to be honest. My mum was also my best friend and the pain I feel every day without her is indescribable. I know you understand.
I think we just have to accept the little bit of enjoyment we do get nowadays.
I can smile with my daughter, enjoy a good book, a good tv drama and a big glass of wine. I am permanently sad but just try to be gentle with myself and enjoy the little things that give me a tiny bit of pleasure. I still dont want to socialise so I dont.
I still dont want to see friends. So I dont.
I’ve changed completely as a person but maybe i will start to return in time. X
Hi Everyone,
Sorry it’s been a while since I posted here, I hope you are all doing as well as you can be.
We buried my Mum’s ashes on Friday. I didn’t find it as upsetting as I thought I would, it wasn’t like the funeral. I felt very disconnected from it, it was hard to relate an urn full of ashes to my Mum.
I have to say that I’m not finding things any easier. I cried a lot today. It will be 11 weeks on Tuesday since my Mum left us. When will this get any easier? I feel like life has become some sort of endurance test, just facing each day without my Mum is unbearably painful. I don’t want to wake up in the morning. I wouldn’t say I am suicidal, but I wouldn’t mind if I wasn’t here anymore. There is no happiness in my life anymore, it all seems very pointless. All I can do is keep on living in the hope that things won’t always feel this bad. It’s like a nightmare. I think about her all the time, and the void in my life now that she is no longer here. I feel so alone. I know it’s stupid but sometimes I feel like nobody loves me. I know that there are people in my life that do, it’s hard to explain. I don’t feel like anyone else is suffering as much as I am. My Dad doesn’t express how he is feeling, I know he must be suffering too but he acts as if nothing has happened. My brother is so busy with his own life and family (he has 2 young children), and he and my Mum were nowhere near as close as my Mum and I were. She is the most important person in my life.
I start my new job next Monday. @Abdullah have you started your job yet? I’m worrying a lot about it - I hope that I will be able to cope with working again. It’s been so long as I was furloughed in March before being made redundant in September. I will be working for the same company but for a different team, and it’s just a 6 month maternity cover contract. The thought of having to look for another job in 6 months fills me with dread. I have had so many interviews over the past few years and can never seem to be successful.
Jade
Alot of your post I could have written. I wasnt emotional the day I scattered my mums ashes. They blew all over my partner and we giggled because mum would have been in hysterics. I didnt feel mum was there. We were going through some sort of necessity that had to be done.
I also have never felt suicidal but have had many times where I dont care if I wake up in the morning.
Just remember, it’s still early days so be kind and gentle with yourself.
Good luck with your job x
Hey @Jade7,
Good to hear from you. I think having a break from this site can be a good thing so no need to apologise, I will probably only come here once a week from next week onwards.
Wtg! That’s great that you have got the job. And that it is at the same company, at least you know that should the worst come to the worst and you need a few days off work because you’re struggling, you’re working for a company that knows you and trusts you, and so you can take some days off. I hope it doesn’t come to that but it is always nice to know that if you have to take some time off, you’ll be able to, without the threat of losing your job. Please try and not worry about 6 months down the line, I totally know about how intimidating interviews can be, I am awful at them, but you will need to cross that bridge when you come to it, so please try and not think about that yet. I know, a lot easier said than done.
I haven’t contacted my friend to work for his company. My neighbour has a small business, it started off with him and two employees coming to his house to work from his attic, he now has his own office with eight employees, and is now looking to move to a larger office. It is doing very well. Two years ago I started developing an Order Management System for him, this is extremely difficult for just one person to do, I should never have agreed as my dad was terminally ill and my mental health was bad, but it was very flexible hours, and gave me something to do (I would only get paid when complete), anyway, after my dad had a heart attack a year later this guy said to me he is cancelling it, as progress was way too slow, and I was so glad, as I didn’t want to do it anymore. Anyway, he phoned me a few weeks ago and asked if I can start it again, and this time he will get me help, as he realises it is too much work. I told him I can’t, it really is too much work even with some help, but I told him I can help whoever else he gets, and he is very pleased with that. After all, I have already analysed his current business processes and created a Data Model, and I will be happy to help whoever he hires, as they will definitely need help as it would be too much work for them to do alone. So that gives me something to do till the new year, once he recruits someone, that is. In the new year I hope to contact my friend and move on with career. I really need some direction as I really want to have a secure place to live so I can try and convince mum to live with me, the future and my living arrangements worry me so much, but I try not to think about them yet.
I am so sorry you’re still having so many bad days. You were closer to your mum than your brother, you will feel her loss more. I think if you have mental health conditions, and you love someone a lot and they have always been there for you, then their loss really does affect you. She was your rock, and she has now gone. And furthermore, you loved her, and her not being here and enjoying things, as you would want her to, is very painful. I understand Jade, many people won’t, they’ll just think parents die, but they were not as close to their mum as you were. Hopefully, with time, the sad moments will reduce.
Take care