I miss him every single day.

When someone goes, you never lose that feeling. You might think you're ok, then something creeps up & reminds you & you're back to square 1. For me, it was 12 weeks ago, when I found I got a place in college.
My grandpa worried about me, every single day. He hated that I didn't have a career & that I happily drifted between jobs. He didn't understand that I don't care too much for money or why it's more important for me to be happy, than stuck in a job I hate.
When I left school, & years before that even, all I wanted to do was cut hair. My grandpa said I couldn't. I shouldn't. That was that. There was no money to put me through uni & as always, I'd misplaced my magic wand. So the only option was to get a job. I hated every single one of them. Sometimes I'd have 3 going at once. Anything so I didn't have to spend 40 hours a week in the same place.
When we lost my grandpa last year. It made a lot of things fall out of significance & into place. I wanted to cut hair.
As soon as registration opened, I did what I had to do. After a 4 month wait, I got an interview & accepted, all in the same day. There was no one to tell. When I told my mother, her exact response was "Oh, I knew you were hyper about something." So I blogged, as I do. There was still something missing.
I took flowers to my grandpas grave a couple of days ago & I told him. I could instantly see the quiet smirk on his face & hear a mumble of - "for Christs sake", followed by a louder- "Stubborn bugger that you are." That would was the approval I needed. For all he didn't want me to be a hairdresser, he wanted nothing more than for me to be secure. I know that if he thought for a second that I didn't do it because of something he said, he'd be mad at himself & then me.
My hero, my father figure & the only man I've ever trusted, worried about me, every single day. I'm getting there, old yin. Like treacle running out a tin, granted, but I'm getting there. :)

Dangerous people

I have just had a conversation with one of my oldest friends, about someone who used to be a mutual friend. We have learned over the past couple of months that this person is toxic.

What drives a person to be so bitter & filled with hate, that they eliminate everyone who has ever cared about them from their lives?
What then drives that person to morph into a violent sociopath? Maybe they always were & it just takes you a while to see behind the mask.

My friend & I have been friends since primary school. We will always be friends.  I have no doubt in my mind.
Both of us have very separate lives & our own, plus a mixed social group.

The toxic person in question, wormed her way into our world. Weaving in between relationships, forging others. Before we knew it, we were all living in each others pocket & it became apparent that suddenly, everyone was the enemy. Who was at the centre of it all? Toxic.

One day, on my birthday (to make sure I wouldn't forget), Toxic sent me a barrage of abusive messages. For no reason. They were as hurtful & as personal as they could of been.
Various events followed; grovelling for forgiveness, more abuse & more apologies. About 6 months ago, I cut all ties, as quietly as possible. It wasn't as straight forward as one would expect. I had a relationship with her 3 other family members. But eventually, it was done.

My friend is a soft, gentle & caring person. She fights with no one, regardless of what they put her through.
Her day came this morning. After trying to help Toxics destressed & intoxicated daughter last night. My friend found herself under threat of physical violence. I will refrain from documenting every detail, but let's just say this person is known to have taken a baseball bat to a boy who wronged her daughter, previously.

I think about how angry, sad & lonely this woman must feel. Shut off from the rest of the feeling world. To have got herself to a point in her life, in her mid 40s, to be so isolated & broken that she feels there is no other way to deal with a situation, than physical violence.

Anyway, my friend is home on holiday & can go back to her regular life, in another part of the country, at the end of the week. Toxic will still be as she is, only she's now lost a woman who would of been the most loyal friend she would ever of had.

Comfort

Words are empty and hollow. They are meaningless. You don't realise this, until words are all you need to hear. That's when you realise that they're just sounds. Background noise.

We trot through life offering up our words of wisdom, to anyone who will listen. "I'm sorry", "It's going to be ok", "I love you". What we really want, is proof of this. We don't want the bottomless promise, that something wonderful is about to appear before us.

Actions speak so much louder.
If you love someone, show them. Shower them with affection. Work through their pain together. Do not tell them that "time will heal the pain", it won't. What will, is the knowledge that someone can be relied upon, at 2am, in the pouring rain, to listen. To hear them.

Don't offer up ideas of what you would do, if you were in that position. You are not. Be sympathetic to their plight.
Ask questions. People are, almost always, afraid to tell you what they're feeling. Ask them exactly that.

Simply to listen & to be kind, is all we need. No one wants to be pitted, or patronised.

There are always so many words in my head, all at once

If I wrote down everything that jumped into my brain, I would probably be able to add song writer to my singer title.

Last week, my brother called me, right out of the blue, late on a Sunday evening. He was drunk & hyped up on a cocktail of medication.
I should add, I haven't seen him in 7 years. Long story short, he took my new born niece & left. Cutting himself off from every person he had ever known.
So, he tells me he's seperated from his partner & mother of his child & he thought I should know. He has a lot of mental health issues, which he indicated had contributed.
We spoke for over an hour, about everything & nothing. I asked him if I could meet him in town, sometime during the week. That didn't happen. He literally trusts no one, so I don't even have a number to text him on. I know it was just a breif window & I probably won't hear from him again for a long time.
When he took off, it lead to me losing pretty much everything. My relationship, my job & my mother, who to this day, is a shadow. I had a breakdown & was put on antidepressants.

I can't tell my mum he called. She has just removed the shrine she had, in the form of his bedroom. I had to do that forcibly.

I contacted him through his in laws, this time last year, to tell him that my grandpa was sick. He phoned me a couple of times & verbally abused me. It was very much the worst case scenario. He chose not to attend the funeral & no further contact was made.
The man who called last week, was a very different person.

I instantly had to tell one of my closest friends, who has been with me, holding me together, for 90% of my life & knows it all. Her reactions are always as I need them to be. She asked me to tell her how I felt, that second, not to think, just tell.

He felt the need to tell me that my father, who also has a lot of mental health issues, tried to kill himself. Oh right. That'll be that then.
I told him that 2 years ago, someone had text me to tell me he had a heart attack. He responded by telling me that if the shoe was on the other foot, he would of done something, been there. I know he wouldn't. He's proven that. It's only words.
I have had to deal with a LOT with my father/sperm donner. He was mentally & physically abusive with us, our whole childhood. Something my incredibly weak mother aloud & to this day, denies it ever happened. He had also beaten her into the ground, so I've learned to make my peace with that.
When my mother eventually decided to get rid of him, it was after a social work threat.
I decided, at 16, that I wouldn't see him again. I didn't for 4 years. Then he found out where I worked & chaos followed. So again, long story cut short, I decided 4 years ago, that I was done. I don't intend to speak to him, ever again.

So why is it, that I feel guilty as hell for not running to the rescue? Why did my brother feel the need to tell me the story, in such a disapproving manner?
As my friend pointed out, because he doesn't know. He has been so uninvolved for so long, he has no idea. No clue as to how many times I had to sign medical releases. To pay deposits for flats & cars. Of the times my mums been in hospital. Of the scars & destruction he's caused & I've had to pick up the pieces.

I asked him who he had & he said he only had his daughter. That was the moment I felt most sorry for him. That's why I asked to meet him.
In short, I'm glad he called, glad he called me & not my mum. But I've let go again. I think it's just been too long. My door's alway going to be open to him, but my emotions are firmly closed off.

Greif & families.

So it's been a while since my last post.
Not a lot has changed, to be honest.
People are angry-which is how it's always been, it's just that now it's worse.
No ones really talking to anyone. When we do talk, it's about anything other than my grandpa.
I think it's safe to say that I'm heart broken. Not something you get over, over night.
People keep asking me questions & they expect standard answers. Why is it that 99% of people who ask how you are, actually don't care? They don't really want to know. It's protocol.  "Hi, how are you?" Then naturally,  you give the standard "I'm fine", with a big smile on your face. Without them even having noticed the mask you're wearing, they reply "Great!". What is that?
I have a very close group of people around me. Not all of whom I can open up to, without risk of them getting me committed, however!
I'm very lucky. This I know.

I went to the first family party since my grandpas passing, yesterday.  It was his wee brothers 80th birthday.
As standard, no one talks to anyone anyway, but literally no one talks to me. AWKWARD.
So I almost didn't go, but a friend of my mums was invited, so I sat with her.
My mum can't sit at these type of things, I think they depress her. She spent the day organising everything & forcing conversation out of rude relatives.
Now, I haven't seen these people since February & not one of them asked how I was. I mean, I didn't expect it, well I suppose part of me probably did. I think that's where I went wrong.

I have decided it's time for greif counselling. Everything I do or say, reminds me how sad I am. I can't clap my cat, without seeing my grandpa do it clumsily,  with his shaking hand. Wee old men on the street, reduce me to tears simply because the have a cap on. Elderly couples holding hands can set me back days.
I also have a cry in the shower, pretty much on a daily basis. It's become part of my routine.
How depressing.  Not depressed though.
I know what's going on & what I have to do to fix it.

I am forever a changed woman.

HELP!!

So, this weekends behavior has led me to believe that I might be losing the plot ever so slightly. However, my better judgement has kicked in & tells me that it's probably grief & now that I've stepped back form everyone else, a month & a half later, it's my turn.

My general lack of get up & go, or want to socialise, is something out of the ordinary. I have to admit, that it's not something new, but maybe been going on for a while.

I think I ate Friday to Sunday. Just ate the days away. I cried too. Didn't get dressed either. Mainly because of a picture I have in my brain. A not too nice one, which I thought I'd tucked away somewhere in the back, along with the monster under the red desk I had a kid & the poster of the witch from Snow White. Turns out that I might have been dealing with other things, so didn't have the time to process what I'd seen, let alone what happened.

So from a trusty Google search, I've learned that there are 5-7 stages of grief. If Google says so, it must be right. Right?

Stage 1; Shock & denial. I think both of these are a given. The time that led up to my grandpas passing, was a total of 2 weeks. He went form being fine, to a wee bit poorly, to the second time we were called in to say it was time, faster than anything I've ever experienced in my life. Even during visits, I told myself that he was just sleeping & it would be fine. Now, my struggle is with the empty chair & in my brain, I'm thinking that he's upstairs & will be down any second. 

Stage 2; Pain & guilt. I'm not even gonna sugar coat this one. I feel like I'm being repeatedly stabbed. All day, every day. The guilt side, as ridiculous as it is, why didn't I know? Why couldn't I make it better.

Stage 3; Anger. I have a pretty bad temper at the best of times, but at the moment I wanna punch everyone. Everything is annoying me. Sweeping comment's are annoying me. I feel as if I'm gonna go all cartoon stylee & smoke is actually going to come out of my ears. People acting like everything's 'normal'. is driving me insane! On the same note, the lack of normality is also driving me mental!

Stage 4; "Depression". I am sad to the point of forcing a smile. I don't want to do anything, except eat & drink coffee. I work 4 hours a day & sometimes don't start until 1PM. I'm still dragging my ass out of bed. I'm tired all the time. I've stopped ironing things & it doesn't bother me. I'm pretending nothing's wrong when I'm asked how I am. I'm fine.

Stage 5; The upward turn. I think & hope that this right here is the start of it. I know my behavior can't carry on as it is.

Stage 6; Reconstruction & working through. I guess I'll have to wait & see how this one pans out. It would appear that I have to become more 'functional'...

Stage 7; Acceptance & hope. I need to deal with what's happened. So, for those of you who are & have been close by through the whole thing, looks like manic Karen might be around for a bit yet! YAY!!

This is the first time I've lost a loved one. I know how lucky I am to have made it to 30 & just be experiencing this, for the first time. I know this, because people feel the need to tell me, many times.

The positive I've chosen to take from it, is seeing everything clearly for the first time. Stepping back & looking into situations. I already feel stronger. I'm learning to say no. I'm enjoying my own company, maybe a bit too much, but hey ho! There's been a conscious shift in my being & I can feel it lighting a fire.

Nobody can tell you how to grieve. I now know that there's no time scale. I know things are going to get better. They have to! :)