I’m back

Like all holidays, that sabbatical seemed to go alarmingly fast! It seems like 5 minutes ago I wrote and told you I was taking a break, for the first time in forever. Loads has happened 

since I wrote my last blog post back on 24th October. Despite the fact it has only been 3 weeks. Crazy how life goes.

Hubby and I had a good birthday and were spoilt by our friends and family. Due to being unable to get the time off work I spent the afternoon of my birthday with Heather. She brought a load of second hand clothes with her from a local group, where you offer things to the community and in return if you take an item you donate fresh food to the families being helped by the group who are receiving food bank parcels. The group is currently helping around 20 families who through no fault of their own are struggling. In all my life I don’t think I have ever known so many people who are struggling financially or so many people relying on food banks. When I was growing up I had never even heard of a food bank. Yet for some families these days it is the only way they can feed themselves once the rent and bills have been paid. So whilst I had fun with the clothes at the back of my mind were these poor families.

We had a good laugh trying on the clothes, my brain is taking a long time to catch up with the fact that I have lost 4 and a half stone (63lbs) I see smaller size clothes and think well that will never fit and then almost die of shock when I can get it on. Some of the clothes were hideous or just too revealing. But I am so grateful for the stuff I have been able to take from it to tide me over until I get to my target weight. At the moment its jumpers and stuff I can layer up that I need due to my poor temperature regulation and menopausal hot flushes. I am either freezing cold or throwing every item off because I am suddenly dripping with sweat. 

Heather gifted me a wonderful birthday present, which I haven’t stopped using since I unwrapped it. It is a hot water bottle that is long and skinny. It must be over a metre long and about 10-15cm wide. It can take up to two litres of hot water. What I love about it is that I can wrap it around myself. So I can apply heat to my lower back and hips in one go. Where as before this could have only been achieved using three. 

Mr Myasthenia Kid bought me a wool pressing mat to help me with my sewing and embroidery. It means I don’t have to wait for him to be home to get the ironing board out. Any surface can now be turned into an ironing board and it produces the most amazing results. I also got a beginners book on crochet. I have wanted to teach myself for ages and wasn’t expecting anything crochet related until Christmas so it made a lovely surprise. 

I managed to get lots of things made which reduced the panic I had been feeling. I still have a mountain of stuff to do but it is a much more manageable mountain. I was feeling before like I was being suffocated under the list of jobs that needed done which is why I took time away from the blog. I just needed to get rid of the jobs that I could and focus on the stuff that I needed to get done. Some stuff I can post here but the rest I can’t due to them being people’s Christmas presents.

I’m still making my way through lots of stuff but I no longer have to keep pushing myself beyond my limits. I am no longer surviving on painkillers and very little sleep.

We also managed a trip out for a few hours for a walk, somewhere I could take my scooter. Dembe adored going to Haldon Forest. He was spinning around like a kid with excitement.

 

It was so lovely to get out and blow some cobwebs away. I said to Jay in the car on the way home “if you told me at the start of the year that I would be able to feel this happy again ever, I wouldn’t have believed you”. Even when we had Dembe in the beginning I just felt like I was going through the motions. Now I feel like I am living again and want to be present.

I have taught myself to crochet ( how well I have no clue) I started on the 2nd November ( badly) and found some videos to help me. My hands have been fine up until today, the base of my thumbs are killing me this morning and my fingers are really stiff. I have managed to make myself a snood / infinity scarf from a yarn tea cake ( huge ball of variegated yarn ) which I finished last night and I am also working on a Christmas blanket.

 

The pattern on my snood is almost like one called vintage shells. So it is raised up and not flat, I made a lot of mistakes, mainly counting – thanks dyscalculia  but I am incredibly proud as considering I hadn’t even picked up a crochet hook until 2nd November 2019 , I think I have done well.

I’ve had two appointments, the eye hospital where they were incredibly pleased with how well my eyes are doing with these new drops. I still have the odd evening where I forget to apply them because I have fallen asleep but on the whole I do remember. I had the dentist last week and as I thought I need a filling so that will be happening on Tuesday next week. I am trying to keep that at the back of my mind. Tomorrow I have an ultrasound on my neck to check out the lump only I seem to be able to feel. It is non stop fun here.

We are back at dog training again. Dembe loves it there and cries with excitement as he knows where he is going on a Tuesday evening. We have also started dog agility training for fun, our first lesson was on Sunday. Dembe did incredibly well, his obedience training has really paid off as he was by miles one of the best behaved there, even though he was sick – probably because he had been swimming in the sea before we went. Yes my baby had swam in the sea!

This Saturday is Dembe’s first birthday! Can you believe it? It is crazy as we still see him as our tiny pup. He won’t be fully grown for another 12 months but I think he will always be our dinky dot.

And yes I am knackered and in pain from all this going out. I have to try to pace myself and get some down time in between excursions but unfortunately that isn’t always possible. I am learning to be kinder to myself and not see rest days as a failure or lack of achievement.

Empathy

When I wrote last week’s blog post Rainbow Bridge  I never expected in a million years the response that it received. It wasn’t just me hubby had people coming up to him in work, telling him that they couldn’t read it without shedding a tear or that it said what they felt but had never been able to express it. I had followers on Instagram contacting me about their recent losses and long ago losses too. On Facebook it was the same, with many people contacting me or leaving a comment. . It was emotionally hard as I am very empathetic, so when people start to get tearful when they are talking to me, it makes me cry too. But when I wrote the post I was half expecting it to stir up a lot of emotions because I had been in such a mess as I wrote it. I have to be honest I never did a final check on the post to look for errors, mainly because I found it so upsetting to read, it was real and raw. I haven’t even gone back to look at it now to refresh my memory before writing this one. I just can’t do it, I have already been in tears today twice over the dogs. It is always just bubbling away under the surface for me at the moment, although to look at me or to see any of my social media posts you would never know.

I am so touched that something I have written has moved so many people. I thank each and everyone of you who commented or messaged me. It was very hard last Thursday as I had no idea how it would be received. I had no clue if people would think I was wallowing, being self indulgent or a drama queen. That people would think that I should pull myself together and get on with the rest of my life. I promise you I am not self indulgent, wallowing or being a drama queen. I just write about life and my experiences. I try to give a voice to those feelings that we push down and don’t let anyone else see. I take a chance that people won’t reject me or ridicule me because I try to talk about things that many would rather brush under the carpet. Although there have been several articles regarding the death of a pet in National newspapers it is still treated with some degree of disbelief by those who have never had an animal / pet in their lives. 

The whole point of my post was for you – whoever you are, know that it is ok to feel whatever you are feeling, to express your grief ( and it is your’s and no one else’s) anyway that you like. That these feelings are totally normal. You are not weird, you aren’t wallowing in your grief, you aren’t an attention seeker and you are certainly not being a drama queen. You are hurting and it will take time to process all that emotion. Hell I am only 8 months on and there are days where I can barely keep it together. Days where all I do is cry. Days when I feel guilty when I know rationally I have absolutely nothing to feel guilty about. I just wanted you to know you aren’t going mad, I honestly thought at times I was losing it. All of those feelings, even the uncontrollable rage that even surprises you when you roar, is totally normal. It is the beast called grief and it doesn’t have to be something that you go through alone.

As I touched on in my blog post even when you have suffered from a significant bereavement such as a partner / child / sibling / parent / friend, people who haven’t been through that kind of grief can’t begin to imagine the enormity of the feelings of loss and pain. They may see you red faced, tear stained and see your grief but that is soon forgotten because it has no direct impact on their lives. The next time they see you, taking the kids to school, going to work, getting the shopping – all things you have to do despite the pain and grief they assume you are “better”. They don’t understand that grief goes on forever. They seem to think that grief has a timeline and by a certain amount of time say 6-12 months maybe sooner if they are real dicks, you “should” be “over” it. How do you explain that there is no getting over it? You are just getting through each day the best you can. There will be good days, bad days and the worst kind of days.  Life will probably never be the same again. But there will never be or has there ever been for anyone who is grieving a time when they are over it. Getting Over It has to be the most grotesque phrase ever. Followed by Time is a great healer. There is no healing from grief, you carry that pain forever.

I had people contacting me about dogs they had lost thirty years ago during their childhood that they still mourned for.  Others told me about their recent losses that they just couldn’t process or that in the proceeding days before my blog post it had hit them, after thinking that they could keep going and carry on as normal. I was quite honest when I spoke to them and told them Jay and I have very little memory of January and February this year.

 We know we got Dembe, we know he was tiny but ask us to recall anything significant like where we took him on his first walk. What the date of his first walk was, his first bark, his first growl all the stuff we would normally remember and we draw a blank. It’s not because we didn’t care about it, purely our brains were overloaded processing what had happened when we lost Frankie and Mollie within 7 days of each other. I am so glad that I started the Dembe Diaries blog and his diary that I base the blog on, so that in years to come I can look back and see all those things in black and white that my brain was unable to absorb at the time.

 I do remember Jay barely spoke in the first 4-5 days after it happened. It was quite stressful as I went into list mode, trying to control everything because my anxiety spiked. His anxiety spiked because I was making so many demands on him all the time and obviously he needed to have some control in his life too. It was very difficult trying to get him motivated to help me sort the house out ready for Dembe’s arrival. Especially as we couldn’t stand being in the house as it was just full of reminders of how empty it was. We did cry together and we did talk about our babies, all of our babies. But the pain and grief was hard because although it has happened to both of you (or all of you) it is also an individual thing that no one can make better or take away from you. People grieve in different ways. Just because Jay wasn’t breaking down in tears every 5 minutes like I was didn’t mean he wasn’t hurting or struggling to cope. You only had to take a look at him, ashen faced, tired and so very quiet, grief and pain was written all over him. For a few days I was worried that he was going to drop down dead from a heart attack or stroke he looked so ill.  

Grief is weird one minute you can feel like you are doing ok and the next minute it feels like the world is imploding. There is no rhyme or reason to it, you are carried on its current and it takes you wherever it pleases. There is no control of it, it controls you initially, even denying you sleep when it wants to. Both Jay and I suffered from terrible insomnia in the 7 days after Mollie and Frankies passing. We would find ourselves downstairs in the middle of the night watching crap on the TV whilst eating chocolate biscuits and drinking sugary tea in the hope we would just pass out from a sugar overdose. I remember one day within about 20 minutes of each other we both left the electric shower on, when we left the bathroom, returning to it a few minutes later, neither of us could work out why we had left it running. We had no recollection of leaving the bathroom.  Life really was being lived on autopilot, all we could do was keep putting one foot in front of the other and get through another day.

I want to tell you that things do get better, the grief becomes less overwhelming.  I feel like I am finally starting to live life again instead of just simply going through the motions. I am not saying that in 8 months you will also be feeling better, it could be less time it could be substantially more time. But there will come a time when you let a breathe out and know that you are starting to be you again.

Up until about a week ago the last time I listened to music and enjoyed it was 29th December 2018. That was the day that Frankie passed away and I had been listening to my Sinead O’connor LP. I didn’t play any music for a couple of weeks. After that time had passed, I tried but I found the noise too much and overwhelming. I had no emotional connection to the music. I would rather be in silence or have the TV on low in the background.  For the last two weeks I have played music non-stop. I have sung at the top of my voice and quite possibly scared the neighbours. I have found the joy in music again. I haven’t played my Sinead O’Connor LP, I think that one will take some time. I may not play it again for several years, I’m not setting myself a target, I will let it happen, I won’t force it. One day I will sing something from the album and it will be like an ear worm that won’t die until I play it. At the moment anything from that LP makes me sad.

We have also started planning things for the future. We have booked  a short break in the UK next year and we will be taking Dembe with us. It is very exciting. This will be the first time since 2006 that Jay and I have had any sort of holiday. It is only 3 nights away but it will do us all some good just to get out of the house and away from the day to day. I am nervous as hell as I have become a real homebody since becoming ill. Other than stays in hospital I haven’t been away from the house in 13 years. It is hilarious to me that I am getting a bit anxious thinking about it when Jay and I have travelled to Sri Lanka, USA (Florida), Antigua, Paris, Menorca and various places all over the UK for weddings / christenings. I know that we can do it, it is just my world has been so very small over the last 13 odd years.

So please be kind to yourself, wherever you are in your journey with grief. Everyone does grief differently, there is no one size fits all. What works for you may not work for anyone else.  Remember living life does not mean that you have forgotten those who are no longer with us. At some point things will get easier, you will reach a new normal. It is not a journey you have to do alone. If more of us start talking about grief and how it affects us we will educate those who have never experienced it and maybe create a little more empathy. The world could really do with more empathy at the moment.