After you died, the world kept turning, and that was the first betrayal.
Then came the others. The people who stopped calling. The friends who said, “Let me know if you need anything,” and never meant it. The ones who avoided saying your name because it made them uncomfortable. Every silence, every changed subject, every new photo of people experiencing their happy, non-grief lives... every one hurt.
There were betrayals in my own body too. The way my brain forgot things. The way my heart raced over nothing. The way I couldn’t cry when I wanted to, and then couldn’t stop when I didn’t. Even sleep betrayed me. So did mornings. So did hope.
I kept waiting for the world to notice what had happened, to stop pretending everything was fine. But it didn’t. The world went on turning, and I learned that grief is full of betrayals no one warns you about. You lose your person, and then you lose the version of life that made sense.
If you’ve felt that too, I am so sorry. I am sorry you’re now someone who knows how loss keeps breaking your heart long after the funeral ends. The world won’t ever be the same, but you start to find small things worth staying for. Moments that don’t fix it, but remind you that meaning can still exist in small ways. Hold on, just hold on.
I feel myself thinking back to my `pre Jay` days long before I knew him. What I was like what I did. I like to think in a way he brought out the best in me. I am a natural introvert and was very withdrawn not much of a social bunny when we got to know each other but he turned out to be the same way so we sort of suited each other not that he we didn't socialise or anything we did but he I think brought me out of my shell in that sense. Just sometimes wonder what life would have been like had we never met. I couldn't stand him at first but something just `clicked` and 40 years later, well think that speaks for itself.
xx
Thank you for responding Vicky. It’s nice to feel I’m not alone, even though I’m very lonely. I guess the diagnosis often kick-starts the grieving process for us. Life as we know it gets thrown out of the window and the heartbreak begins. We learn to cope for our loved ones and then we just continue to put one foot in front of the other after they’re gone, even if we do then question the meaning of living. I certainly do. Nothing makes any sense anymore. At least it’s bedtime. Again. X
Thanks Mrs VT. I’m sorry your dreams of your beautiful Valen aren’t coming. I seem to sleep a lot more than you though. It’s the only time of the day I really enjoy, which is strange when you and others dislike bedtime now.
Grief seems especially hard when we’re all feeling it differently and don’t know what to do for the best.
I am grateful for this forum. No one else can understand the heartbreak but I know sadly, you all know what it’s like.
It's only been 4 months for me & I identify with everything you say. I have just finished a group conselling course, unfortunately it didn't really make much to my way of thinking. I now have the joy of panic attacks pretty much all of the time. I used to be a strong, confident person but now I am mentally & physically exhausted just trying to navigate my way through ever horrible day. I'm hoping to get some talking therapy to help with my panic attacks because the medication looks terrifying, unfortunately that could take a few months to set up. I have no idea what I'm supposed to do with my life now as Andrew was my life. I don't want to be in this world but even leaving isn't an option as I couldn't put the people that love me through this hell. It just feels so pointless without him.
I agree with everything you have said I was the weak one never wanted to speak up if people did wrong Simon always spoke up never took any rubbish I used to put up with things now he isn't here I have panic attack I seem like a wimp yes I was strong helping fighting for Simon during his cancer my body and mind is exhausted just went on dog walk in rain crying and talking out loud asking why closed my eyes around the park it was peaceful yes I was wet but I couldn't care less just wished I could have just floated away
I am so sorry you are going through this horror. I know what you mean about the panic attacks. Mine were about the realisation that my darling wasn’t here any more, also the responsibility for everything and pure exhaustion and grief. The legal stuff is endless, and somehow we have to find the strength to complete it all. I literally had palpitations, and had to focus on breathing techniques to calm me down. We all understand here. Kate. Xxx
I also grieve the loss of myself, Andrew was my life & now half of me is missing. I can’t even imagine how to start rebuilding me as I can’t imagine it’s possible without him. Grief is so much more than people could ever imagine until you get there & when you do get there it’s indescribable. I think it’s hard it get help because even people with the same grief do not have the relationship with your loved one so it is indeed a very individual thing.
This community is so helpful because you get to say what you need to & no matter how strange it may sound to others someone on here knows that feeling. Thank you everyone for letting me ramble & rant. Love to you all ️
You ramble all you like Aunty Debs. Its what this forum is for having a good old ramble, rant and vent. We are all here for one another
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