It’s been a slow transition but I wish I could tell my counsellor that I finally stepped down from that tightrope where I couldn’t put a foot wrong. I wish I could tell her that actually “Katie does make mistakes” but I can handle them – it’s okay.
On the surface, this new life is wonderful and it suits you so well; you feel like you are meant to be here.
It was a downward spiral of pain, and the very essence of mum singed and burnt my soul with that deep sense of loss.
I don’t feel fear like I used to. I’ve learnt that the only thing that you can actually count on in this life is, in fact, change. I don’t try and run away from it anymore; running away takes up too much energy anyway. It’s easier to face it straight on, embrace it, and jump.
Why do we have this self-imposed idea that throughout our lives we are meant to maintain a perfect, crisp version of ourselves? Like untouched snow, or fresh school shoes that we don’t want to scratch.
How could I still be listening out, just in case Mum needed me?
It didn’t make sense at first. How could I have been a carer for such a long period without having realised? I think this is the case for many people. Like I said, the changes were minimal at first, and you really don’t mind because you’d do anything for your family.
I remember a page where I just scribbled “WHY”. One word which took up the whole page. I scratched it in so much the letters were thick and black but each time I drove my pen into the paper I felt a release.
I read a quote once: “My mum taught me everything except how to live without her”.
Katie and I will stand side by side and talk about the creation of The Grief Reality. We will talk about how alienating grief was, but the love we felt from this community. We are indebted to the Wordpress community for the life it brought back to us.