I’ve decided that grief is shit. Sorry for swearing but I could have said something much worse because shit doesn’t quite cut it. I guess you can never really know how bad it feels until your in it. It’s like you have a dead weight in the pit of your stomach. Like the feeling that something is pressing on my throat, unable to swallow properly. It’s the pooling of tears behind your eyes, not fully letting them out for fear they just won’t stop. It’s staring at the photo of the person who’s passed wishing it all to be some horrid dream. It’s catching yourself getting ready at 10am to go and have a coffee with them before we head out, or getting ready about 2pm to go and pick them up to take them home. It’s trying to listen so hard in the hope you can hear them speaking. It’s cuddling their cardigan in bed trying to grasp hold of their familiar smell. It’s lying on the sofa staring blankly at the TV, wrapped in one of their blankets with that all familiar smell on it. It’s trying to hold it all together enough around people so they think you are coping when actually inside your falling apart. It’s looking at your mum and nan and the rest of the family knowing the pain they must be feeling but not being able to support them as much as you want because your totally broken yourself. It’s feeling like I’m outside of my body, like nothing is real. It’s not having the ability to boost yourself up to get your jobs done around the house. The feeling that your just dragging yourself around but not actually achieving very much. Grief is the worst feeling in the world. Grief is shit.
It’s been 26 days, almost 4 weeks yet it still feels like yesterday. I miss my grandad daily, I read the text messages he sent me over and over, I watch his tribute video over and over and I stare at his photos in utter disbelief. I cannot believe he has physically gone. I walk around talking to him, I catch myself wishing to see him just one more time, or seeing him in my dreams so I can spend time with him again.
So many people have kindly said I could talk to them at any time but what do I say. Every time I think of him I get a burning feeling in my throat, that overwhelming pressure as the emotions come flooding to the surface. I cry every day yet there seems no end to the tears. They are always there threatening to pour out at any given moment. I know it will get easier and those who have been through it know that it completely engulfs you. I know I will miss my grandad every day but I also know this dreadful pain will gradually ease but I know I must get through this phase first, however long it takes. If I go quiet or you don’t see me, do not worry, I just burrow myself into my nest every now and again. It’s warm and safe in there.
For anyone else going through this, I am taking hope that others have gone through this and come out the other side and we will do the same in our own time. I know my grandad would tell me off if I didn’t give myself a kick up the bum but he would also expect me to be upset because he knew how much he meant to me. He was more like my dad than my grandad. He was the only male in my life that didn’t hurt me or have an agenda although I am blessed to also now have a step dad who looks out for me and for that I am thankful. I know that every day I will break my heart at some moment but I do also know that I will learn to adjust to a life where he no longer physically exists but walks beside me daily. I am so very blessed to have had such a wonderful man, confidant and friend in my life. For now though all I can feel is this unstoppable sadness and that is proper shit!