It's been over 18 months since Markus went. 18 long, confusing, atrocious months. And yet they haven't been so bad all the time, they went in phases. What surprised me was my dependence on other people - and I didn't need the one-time 'let's do something together' kind of contact, but a kind of reliability, someone who was there more often. That wasn't easy. People do think you are coping, and don't realise you are coping at that moment BECAUSE someone is there. You need someone to tell the small things of life to, on a day to day basis. If you have family that is easier - but if you don't, and live far away from your own culture, it is difficult to find anyone who has the time and the energy to cope with you yourself.
Well, I think I'm emerging slowly from the accompanying depression. What surprises me is the apparent change of character I seem to be going through .. I became unreliable, didn't work well, couldn't be bothered to keep my flat clean or tidy. That has passed (or is passing :-) ) but I can't bear to have photos of Markus around or anything that reminds me of him. I don't want to talk about him. I have changed my furnishings and as much of my life as I can. What surprises me even more is that things I have treasured all my life have absolutely no more meaning for me. I could get rid of the lot. Maybe I will. But then I keep thinking, if I ever do come back, if the me that I used to be reappears, will I regret it? There's no-one else I have to think of, I have no close relatives to share such things with me.
Ah well. Roll on the future. And you all on here have all of my good wishes, my sympathy for your gains and your losses.
