The counsellor said I have to rip up the timetable and succumb to grief. I've been fighting it because it's terrifying. I've been desperate to be ok and to project an image of coping. I don't want to be the one falling apart and I've been frantic for life to somehow go back to how it was (with Freddie miraculously back in it too) because the prospect of being broken forever has felt like a death sentence. Anyway, the counsellor said there's no blueprint for grief, to forget the future worries and just grieve - it's ok to let go and to not have a plan for now. I'm so used to being the one giving support, being vulnerable has been too scary. I've barely even spoken to the bereavement midwife, I kept asking her what her job motivations were and what her her background was (at the funeral - how appropriate), like she was a work colleague. I didn't feel like I was a grieving mother because I went into work mode as a defence mechanism. The swiftness of the fundraising page was part of that, as was my insistence that I could cope with everything baby related. I was determined to make sure everyone else was ok as an avoidance of having to deal with my own necessary grief.
Two days ago when Little Girl Iris was born I saw that Babes in Toyland have reformed and are touring - it made me want to pick up the phone to you and say 'oh hey lets get our dresses and dockers on'. Then I remembered that I'm grieving and you are celebrating, and the world is on it's head right now. I bought LGI a gift last night. Even though I can't see her it made me feel happy, like it was something at least. I hope she gets it soon.
I keep thinking of you all smiling and cuddling her and I wish I wasn't the outsider. But I am. Freddie isn't being loved and admired too, he's at the burial ground with snow and flowers on him and he's cold and can't be cuddled and held and that makes me angry. His death has caused an earthquake and tsunami across my family and I am in the middle of it feeling as though I am suffering and losing the most. I know I shouldn't be angry with anyone; if there is blame to be apportioned anywhere the only person it can be directed at is me. However in grief we are far from rational and I realise that I need to be stronger, peaceful and more positive in order to nurture good relationships. It's so cruel that things ended up as they did, if the dates were different none of this would be so hard, I would have your support, or at least I would be able to accept your support rather than being traumatised by speaking to you. I worry that by the time I've achieved any kind of acceptance and zen (is this wishful thinking?), you might have all moved on and LGI will be big and I'll have missed so much. However then I'm scared that one day I'll think I'm ready to see her and I'll only see what should've been for Freddie. I know you can't ever truly feel or understand this and I wouldn't want you to. I wouldn't wish the feelings of loss and sorrow on my worst enemy, let alone you. To understand it means you have experienced my journey and therefore felt it too. One and the same. Sadly though it means we are worlds apart and might always be, and because of fates unfortunate hand I don't know if I can ever face LGI without looking at the empty space next to her. That space is where Freddie exists in another life, laughing and giggling with her. It's so early in my journey so who knows what may be. I'm doing that thing where I try and predict the future and let it make me doubly upset and anxious.
I'm writing in a really stupid, strange way like a really pretentious but crap novel. It's cathartic so I'm not too sorry. Perhaps I'll write differently tomorrow. I think I'll try and write every day, it seems to help. Perhaps months from now I'll read it back and it'll sound reassuringly ridiculous. Here's hoping.
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