Wednesday, 6 January 2016
No. 273. 'Time cannot be rushed.'
You can try and run away from grief for so long, finding distractions, trying to block it out, but there is no real escape. It is always going to catch up with you again. Sometimes you have no choice, but to let it in.
I am alone quite a bit now, that is OK, life has to go on, but the hours can seem endless. There are only so many things you can distract yourself with. Sometimes I get flash backs to Christopher's death, how I hate MND so much, it is so very cruel. In my lonely hours I do not understand why it chose him, or why it took him so soon. I miss him so very much. I still hate going to bed, when I do I stay awake till the early hours sometimes, playing games on my iPad, or reading, not wishing to actually sleep. I miss everything about him and I keep hoping still that this is all a bad dream and that I will wake up.
I often wonder why I share so much about myself so publicly. I am not sure why I do. Even now though this blog is still about MND. I am a widow because of MND, my children have lost their father because of MND, I am alone because of MND, every single one of the changes that have happened in the past 20 months are because of MND. Chris is dead because of MND.
People are still dying and I can't bare it. I am not as brave as some might think, I have always been a coward. I feel guilty that I don't do more for the MNDa, but at the same time all I want to do is hide away in the safety of my home, blocking out the outside world. People other than family have moved on from Christopher's loss, that is understandable, but although it may appear so I have not.
I surround and cover myself with metaphorical plasters, but like the real thing, they never seem to stay on for long. Living life is like trudging though mud at times.
People will ask how I am and I say OK, they are relieved, they don't want to hear me say that I am not, that my heart is still breaking, that I miss my husband every second of the day. They want me to be OK, so I let them think that I am. It is so much easier that way for them and for me.
Another day will come, another day will be lived, I will smile, I will laugh, i will cry, I will make myself exist and move on and one day, no doubt it will be easier, the trouble is, time cannot be rushed and that day seems a very long way away.