For My Eyes Only

2 minute read time.

Dear Little Jen

Let this be a warning to you for being smug and proud of the things you achieve and thinking you were doing alright. (And i know you try to write positive stuff but you can't escape this one, can you.) So you're probably a bit tired, probably a bit below par, probably got too much to do. You were probably living on a high, after realising you actually know some lovely people.

But you weren't expecting that, were you? The express train from the tunnel of hell which slammed straight through you. Came out of nowhere. Threw you against the wall where you howled and sobbed, and your heart felt as though it was being ripped out of your chest. And please God would you do that for me? Would you rip out this heart, make it stop, give me a let out, anything but this horrendous all-consuming pain of longing, longing with every centimetre of flesh for someone I can't be with anymore. This pain of amputation is so searingly deep and real. And why did it happen?

Because, quite innocently, I was listening to a radio interview with silly old Rod Stewart and there were just a few bars of that stupid song from 1977, 'I don't wanna talk about it............' And I was right back somewhere else in a year when my whole world turned upside down because a tall beautiful man walked into my life. 

And a tiny part of me thinks I might have been better off if I'd ignored him and let him just walk away. Because then i wouldn't be going through this awful, torturous, writhingly, searingly, burning deep pain.  But I know I couldn't have done that. Let him walk away, I mean. And I know that I'd have missed out on 35 years of what we had. 

Does he know what I am going through? Can he see my pain? Can he see me rolling in agony on the kitchen floor? Does he know how much I want to go to the grave and dig it up with my bare hands just to lie with him in the cold earth? Is this the pain he felt when he was dying? 

No. What he suffered was a million times worse, a trillion times worse, and what is more, he had no choice. He wanted what I have now - not the pain, but Life.

So I will add Rod Stewart to the list of things I can't listen to anymore - Bach, a lot of Mozart, Rachmaninov, Steve Miller Band, Ry Cooder, the Woodstock Album (OK, I'm old), Janis Joplin, Crowded House etc etc etc etc etc The list goes on and on. The power of music to completely steamroller me now............

Heyho.

Another lesson in grief.

Little Jen 

 

Anonymous
  • FormerMember
    FormerMember

    Hey guys -

    Yeah, I'm ok. Face all puffy, eyes all red, hair a flippin' mess. The dog's pacing up and down - he doesn't like it when I get upset.

    I'm still here, just a bit shaky and steamrollered and feelin' small. Didn't mean to upset any of you. i just write the truth. And yes, I am still totally overturned by the power of this bally grief when it comes straight at you.

    Will have an unmentionable ciggy (I know, some of you would absolutely tell me off) - a stupid disgusting habit I should kick - some hot chocolate, and take myself off to bed with a hot water bottle. Have a book or five to read as I guess I won't sleep much. And you'll see, I'll be up and about tomorrow putting one foot in front of the other......

    Thank you all for caring and for the hugs and for being there.

    Little Jen X

  • FormerMember
    FormerMember

    Dear Jen,

    Never mind the dog, we were pacing up and down too, glad you are ok ish. xxxx

  • Hello Jen it's said that grief comes in unexpected waves and for me I know it to be true.When you have shared so many years with someone it seems all your memories good and bad are memories involving that one personSongs,smells places and things trigger that unexpected emotion.But in between those times there can be a glimmer of light an enjoyment of things whilst wishing that one person was there to share it.You are doing alright in so far as you can under the weight of such grief but that wave that comes washes over you and overwhelms you for that space of time is hard to bear but you somehow managed to find the strength to get up again.Have your unmentionable ciggie whatever at that awful moment you need but remember when that wave comes in whatever form we are here with love and hugs and even a towel to dry you off Huge hugs Cruton xxxx
  • FormerMember
    FormerMember

    Don't ever apologise and glad you are up and about again. I wish I could be there to hold you properly in real life when you get that wave of grief.... I won't tell you off for having a cigarette. Who wouldn't have one? I would... I hope you got some sleep and I am here plodding along next to you giving you a little shove to get those steps one in front of the other.

    I know it is so hard just now, but 2 steps back and then one forward and remember that eventually you will see that the odd good day has flipped to the odd bad day and you will be able to listen to songs again. It will take a long long time but it will happen.

    I am sending the you there man to cancer and the biggest hug to you. 35 years should never be regretted however painful it is now.

    Polishing your armour as usual and sitting on your bed chasing the monsters away.

    Hugest of hugs my love fellow little person

    Little My xxxxx

  • FormerMember
    FormerMember

    Just sending some more welsh cwtches and lots of love.

    My son is going through the same phases when grief hits him "at the most embarrasing moments"

    My late wife's rapid decline started when we had gone to the opera and she was taken ill in the middle and we had to leave. It was two years before i saw that opera again and I wondered how I would react when it came to the point where we had to leave, but it was a sense of gratitude to my wife for introducing me to opera.

    I hope you willl soon be able to hear those favourite songs and may they bring back happy memories for you.

    Odin xxx