It would have been my Mum’s 76th birthday, today. I miss her so much, and my brother, Paul, my precious little cat, Scratchy… and the rest of my stupid family that I doubt I’ll ever see again, and my beautiful, beautiful two surviving, old cats… my boys; my life companions for more than sixteen years.
I’m over my ex – we can’t get divorced until May 1st… which is going to be such a big day, because Avengers: Age of Ultron hits the cinemas then. I am so excited and looking forward to that day and watching that film. Perfect timing!
The cataclysmic confusion of the break-up has lifted and cleared. I’m glad I’m not with her, even though my life is in such a state of flux at the moment. But now that’s gone, I’m hit with these waves of grief… it’s time to face it all, and it breaks me down so quickly, so surprisingly… in private, in public, walking down the street… but I’m glad I’m immersing myself in it, at last. I’ve initiated contact with a grief counselling service in the area. I’m on a waiting list, but they’ve sent me leaflets and it is unlocking me, allowing me to finally begin to accept the impossible fact that they’re dead… they’re gone… but they’ll always be loved.
My doctor’s surgery is opposite the maternity hospital I was born in. It’s now a University campus, but it will always be where my life began, the moment my Mum held me in her arms, at last, and loved me every moment, through all my trials and troubles and fuck-ups, unconditionally, all her life.
To be here, in this homeless hostel, without anyone in my family to talk to, is so hard… so damn hard, every day… but they left me for dead, they turned their backs on me and supported my charming, successful narcissistic, abusive ex who’d call me a cunt, so often, in private, ridicule me in public and make everyone laugh with her while I just smiled and took it.
I should never have married her.
The third day with her, when we first met, before we were married, we were listening to music at the hotel we were staying in, and Eva Cassidy’s ‘Fields of Gold’ began to play, but I tried to turn it off, because it reminded me of my Mum’s death.
She was very, very drunk and insisted I listen to it, then she laughed at me when I began to cry. (I never felt I could talk about that grief, with her, after that, and I didn’t. I just held it in and tried not to break.)
I should have walked out right then… but she said she’d probably have killed herself if she lost me… then, of course, she kicked me out of what I believed was my home, less than three months after we were married and I had become her unwanted property, less than a week after my brother’s funeral… where she watched me carry his coffin… where she held my hand during the ceremony, while I was sobbing my broken heart out.
And though I share these details, I am so relieved to be free of that… free of her… and now, my new life is unfolding… my wisdom is returning. I have so many stories and theories to write down and share with others who may need them, just at the right time for them.
This grief is hard… losing my Mum, my beautiful kitty, Scratchy, and then my brother, and then my family… of course that’s difficult. Of course I had a breakdown… of course I was angry… of course I was utterly broken, destroyed and of course I fell into a living hell… but I am out, now… I’m on my feet again, and I’ll cry when I need to, but I am moving on, stronger, wiser and more peaceful than I’ve ever been.
I have a new friend who has helped me smile and laugh again. I have other friends that have held me up when all I wanted to do was fall… all I wanted was death. So many of you, on Facebook and Twitter, have sent me your love and lifted me, too.
I’m am so fortunate.
I recognise this, now. I am here. I’m moving into my own flat or house in a couple of weeks. In the meantime, I have a roof over my head.
If my Mum was still here, or if she’s looking down on me from I don’t know where, she’d smile and she’d be proud, because she’d know the best of me is about to be unleashed. And – sorry for the swears – but about fucking time, eh?
Life: Part Two… it has begun. I’m going to build something brilliant, and love all the days I have left to live. It’s one thing writing down that intent, but now it’s time to alchemise them into actions.
“I will take negativity and make it inspire me.
I was not a book from a library.
As I stand here, alone, I declare I was not a loan;
To be picked up and dropped off at a later date.
And you barely even made my spine bend.
Just skimmed through some of the interesting bits then skipped to the end.”
– Dan Le Sac vs. Scroobius Pip: “You Will See Me”
For my lost family…