Make Believe

Strangers know me better than I know myself....Part 6

You guessed it. I hate to say this but you were right all along. Anyone could have seen this coming apart from me right? Anyone but me. Maybe you were all waiting for me to fall. You just knew at some point I would break. I was going to break and maybe not step back up again. Today. Today was my day.

Oh how I have sobbed my heart out tonight, I have sobbed and balled my eyes out so much they hurt. They feel sore. I think everyone is sick of this grief cycle of mine. Trust me the rollercoaster I've been on this past week? I want to get off too.

Right now, as I'm typing? It feels pretty raw. As I type? I feel so vulnerable, I feel so alone in this little bubble of emotion. It feels so scary. Like I'm lost and wandering. Who knows if I'm ever going to find the path I'm meant to be on?

I worried you know? Being this honest about death, being this honest about all my emotions how others might take it. But you see I had to write it, I have to write THIS. If I don't I fear I might lose the plot entirely.

My parents spent far too long hiding from one another, their whole lives in fact. I truly feel that's where it all went wrong for them, the moment they chose to not be who they really were, the moment they didn't share if one or either of them was struggling.

Far too often we put on a brave face for those we love without realising they know all along we are suffering. Our loved ones only need to know. They just need us to accept the fact we are struggling, it isn't a weakness, its nothing to do with weakness its to do with trust. Trust your loved ones to support you. Please? Trust them to hold you and support you through the pain.

Today I'm in pain, today has hit me like a huge ton of bricks, its crushing me totally. So much so even my anger has faded to nothing, its just this huge weight now, pressing down on me.

I'm going to be honest, because I feel you deserve that, even typing this I have tears pouring down my face and I'm not going to hide that. I'm never going to hide that from you. I'm going to always give you the raw and honest truth. It might not always be pretty but it will always be real.

Part of my Mum's problem was the fact she never did that, she never showed her true self to the world and she never showed when she was suffering. She would rather put a brave (all be it fake) face on for the world around her. I'm so done hiding it, I'm done hiding who I am. Her death proves this to me.

For years she felt misunderstood and alone but her main issue? She never once reached out, she never once spoke out loud her true fears. Sure she complained a lot, sure she did but I never once saw true, pure emotion on the most basic level.

I'm saying its ok to cry. Cry so much there is snot, cry so much you make someone's jumper wet. Sob so loud the neighbours can hear you. Sob so much you can barely breathe. Your catching your breathe so much its going to turn into a panic attack and you know what? Its ok if it does. Its ok if its a full on breakdown, a total and utter breakdown that once you come around maybe you don't remember some of it. Its ok to let that happen.

We often get so wrapped up in being strong for others we forget our own feelings, we forget how the whole situation makes us feel. For me today? Finding my Nanny's wedding album? Not only did it suddenly hit me I had lost my mum, it felt like I lost my Nan all over again too. Boom!!! Two losses.

My Nan died when I was nine, many years ago. My Mother detested her. Least that's what she led me to believe. I adored her, I loved her so much. So many fond memories of her not giving a shit while I played with statues. Looking back now? In my head I'm like, what the fuck were you letting me play with that valuable stuff for?? Why?? Maybe because she loved you? Maybe because she saw how happy it made you? Maybe because she saw how careful you were?

I'm not naïve. She wasn't perfect. She was far from it, but she was real. She never hid from the world the way she felt about stuff. She made shit rice pudding but we all ate it. We told her it was shit but ate it anyway. I fucking hope I'm like her, I hope I'm like her and I pray I'm like her and I'm not even bloody religious.

The lives my parents led with one another was fake. If only the trusted one another enough to share more maybe it wouldn't have ended up in the mess it did. Just maybe with a little honesty it would have worked. If they had that trust.

Its not failure if you admit you cannot cope, its not failure if you say to someone that you can't do something. Its not failure to say I've had enough. You know what it is? Its a beautiful thing called honesty. Its a beautiful thing called being human and its a beautiful thing called having limits and that my friends is where too many of us are going entirely wrong in our lives.

Just be more kind to yourselves ok?

xxx