Day By Day in Writing To Escape [Open Diary Entries]

Today I admit seems harder than yesterday and the day before. My days have all been blurring into one with a lack of sleep and my thoughts wandering to the most obscure things. Grief is a bitch and it is something I've dealt with numerous times in my life.

My mother's death was not unsurprising with the way this last week has played out:

Sunday I was under the impression I had an optimistic 3 - 5 years with her.
Monday I was down to months
Tuesday I had weeks
Thursday I had days / a week at the most.
Friday night leading into Saturday morning I knew we wouldn't reach the hospice on Monday with how the night had gone.

My mother was in endless suffering on Friday night and it was difficult to be a part of, we had to give her a lot of additional pain medication on the hour, close to every hour, this was also doubled in strength after the first dose so it gave her some relief.

Saturday morning she went into a deep sleep which sounded natural, my aunt and myself left to go and get a drink / food, my aunt was going to take over watching my mum for me whilst I got some sleep. We had our food and I came home. I hadn't been through the door literally five minutes before my uncle Stephen was banging on the door. In that time I'd listened to a voice mail from the staff nurse in that time as well asking me to call her.

To me the outcome was obvious, these two were hardly coincidence. I was okay until I opened the door and had someone actually confirm it to me, those guards I'd been putting in place all week were slowly cracking and breaking under the pressure. I can see it in my mind now looking down on it, the guards like big gates being smashed by some unknown violent force, each one unlocking more and more emotion within me.

The last gate I'd set up held, one I think only I'd prepared for out of the family. I knew that this was going to be my final week with her, she was in too much pain and I wanted it to end, she needed to be relieved of her discomfort and suffering, it was the only decent and humane thing to want. My mother was adamant that she had quality and not quantity, even though I didn't get the quality time I'd have liked in the last week I don't begrudge her going so soon. I didn't want her to suffer and some unanswered questions are a lesson learned to talk to people in your life in honesty and those unanswered questions will not haunt me as they would others, so I'm okay in some regards.

There are moments when I wander around the house, the silence and little objects obviously jog memories, they get to you most of all I think because I'm used to the noise. some noise coming from some place, this has all changed and it is a drastic change.

I dwell on things like I used to a long, long time ago, as though my brain has been reset to default. I'm looking at people and I can see them again but my hate, my anger just doesn't seem anywhere near as strong. I wonder if this was intended, I knew that with this entire event my personality would change. I wouldn't be the person I was a mere two weeks ago, the lyrics from the song I posted above seem apt:

"Do you understand that we will never be the same again?
Do you understand that we will never be the same again?
The future's in our hands and we will never be the same again
The future's in our hands and we will never be the same again"

It is just going to be a case of taking this day by day.

Last updated June 11, 2014