by Lori Dwyer on January 18, 2011 · 75 comments

Things I know now, that I never wanted to know.

Grief is fucked. It’s a horrible, hideous, tormenting thing that tricks you and pulls you and grazes every part of you.

This is real. No charms, no omens, nothing can protect you here. This is life. This is real.

‘I’m sorry’ is so useless. I know, it’s all people know to say. It’s what i used to say. But I resist the urge to ask people, what are you sorry for? You get to go on with your life, think about how sad this is, try and imagine my situation. You’re not sorry. Not as sorry as i am. You just don’t know what else to say. And that’s OK.

It’s after the funeral, that it’s hardest. When everyone else goes back to their lives. They make plans for the year. They fill in diaries, make appointments, get on with things. And they expect me to, too. But for me, this is just the beginning. I feel adrift, cut off, lost from everything I knew. And I don’t care- not about you illness, your worries, any of your shit. Don’t you realise how lucky you are, ,to hae those petty things to go back to? Don’t you get that I’d give anything, anything to have worries you have right now?

Instead, I’m worried about cleaning out my husband’s clothes. I’m worried about whether I’ll be able to keep my house. I’m worried how my son will grow up, without a man’s man father figure in his life.

I’m worried, terrified, about being a single mum. Having to mange my finances, live on next to nothing. Fuck, this is all going to be so difficult.

How the fuck did thid happen to my life? How did it fucking change like this, in the space of three seconds? Three minutes. The time it took for it to change from ‘he wouldn’t’ to ‘he’s not fucking around’.

And then, the screaming.

How the fuck did this happen to me?

Thanks everyone. These comments help so much. Even the “I’m sorry” ones ;)

Just to put your minds at ease, i’m under the care of a pyschitrist, pyschologist and emergency mental health team. Grief counsellors who are adequately trained for this situation are hard to come by- I even scare the professionals at this point ;)

But I am OK. Fucking angry and sad right down to my toes, but OK.

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{ 75 comments… read them below or add one }

Bec @ Bad Mummy January 20, 2011 at 10:10 pm

I don't know what to say except that I've thought about you a lot lately wishing that there was something that could be done to make things righto because this is so incredibly wrong.


JallieDaddy January 20, 2011 at 6:35 am

Be as fucking angry & sad as you want; you're definitely allowed to be.


Heres a gem January 20, 2011 at 3:42 am

I'm glad you are speaking to professionals. You did a great job of getting to this point, but you've had a bit of an adrenaline crash and you need to grieve. Really, really grieve and eventually somehow build back up your strength. I'm no professional and I have no idea what it's like to be in your shoes, but I hope you have someone there who can hold you and hug you and let you scream and cry. Mom, Dad, friend, brother, sister, counselor… someone you trust. I hope someone who is close to you reads this comment and reaches out to touch you. There is no replacement for physical contact.


x0xJ January 19, 2011 at 9:01 pm

I wish i knew what to say. To do.
I've probably said "I'm sorry" i mean like you said, what else do you say? Would i wish myself in your position, no, but that doesn't mean i want you in it any more than i would want myself in it.
If there is anything i can say or do, just a friend to talk to even, someone to help you pack up his stuff, anything, please do not hesitate in hunting my arse down because i am more than happy to help out in any way. Even if you just want me to have your kids for a playdate so you can get some time to break down and kick and scream (but please, make sure you come back!)


Becky January 19, 2011 at 5:18 pm

As you said, I do not know what to say. I have no idea. However, I do want you to know I am here. Thinking of you, sending you love and wishing there was more I could do xo


Sandra January 19, 2011 at 4:18 pm

You're not going mad, you're not a bad person and you definitely have done nothing to deserve this. Where you are right now is exactly where anyone else in your situation would be.

Angry is good. Fucked up is good. Scary is good. Writing it out is exactly perfect.


Tamara January 19, 2011 at 1:36 pm

Lori, I know that no amount of sorrys help you right now, but I am, to the depths of my soul. Feel what you have to feel, and scream until you cant scream anymore, and know that people do care. People might go on with their lives, but your true friends and family will take you along with them.


Peggy K January 19, 2011 at 10:10 am

They may say "I'm sorry for your loss" but what they mean is, "I'm sorry you're hurting." If I could wave a magic wand, no one I know would hurt the way you are hurting, Lori. Yes, it sucks. And there's no doubt you heard more things in the last few days that make you want to a) slap the person saying it, or b) tell them they don't know what the hell they're talking about, or c) quit your GD preaching. But I know this because I've lived this…You are never given anything more than you can handle. And sometimes, the strength we have comes out of the worst moments of our lives. You're stronger than you know. (Feel free to tell me to quit my preaching!!)


nadinewrites108 January 19, 2011 at 8:30 am

You don't have to be OK, that's why there are "teams" of people. You don't have to be nice or capable or in control or coping. You just have to be what you are and where you are from moment to moment. Your world is terrifying, it is fucked, it is unfair and screwed and paralysing and too, too much. But know that no matter how ugly or scary you get, you are loved. Unconditionally. We are not going away, despite the aparent silence.


Julie W January 19, 2011 at 6:54 am

There are no words, just thoughts and hugs x


Barbara January 19, 2011 at 6:33 am

You're right. I don't know what else to say. I can't even begin to imagine the pain you're living through right now. But I am sorry. Sorry that I can't help. That I can't take some of the pain away. And sorry that I don't have the right words.

But, I think of you and pray for you and your babies.


In Real Life January 19, 2011 at 3:23 am

I HATED the words "I'm sorry" too, when my mom died – I just felt like screaming "It's not your fault, what are YOU sorry for!" whenever someone said that to me. It really felt like a slap in the face every time someone said it. Even though intellectually I understood that it was just the customary words, I thought it was stupid and I hated it.

*HUGS* I am thinking of you.


suburp January 19, 2011 at 2:04 am

no one can feel your pain, Lori, it is your life, your loss, your children, your husband, your grief. but some of us have lost loved ones or came close to it and it breaks our heart to witness how your blog, from 'random ramblings' (that stood out by their quality and spirit) has become a diary of pain. it's hard to find the right words, but most definitively have the right feelings for you xx


Sherie Brown January 19, 2011 at 1:16 am

Lori, you're right, those of us who aren't living what you are living have no idea what it is like to feel a grief that is so intense it feels like it is going to consume you. But what I do know is that we're your soft place to fall. We're here to listen when you need to tell us how fucked this whole ugly situation is. We're here to nod and agree with you when you tell us how un-fucking-fair it is that we get to carry on as we were before and you can't.

But we're also here to tell you that it will be alright and that one day you will feel like you can breathe again. xoxoxo


Michelle Twin Mum January 19, 2011 at 12:01 am

((((Lori))) you are right I have no real idea but I can see how much you are hurting and for that I am completely sorry. We all care, we keep coming back to see you as we care.

With love, Mich x


alliecat January 18, 2011 at 11:12 pm

That's the shit of it. After the funeral, everyone else goes on. How dare they? I get that you feel like that, absolutely. And other's trivial worries, OMFG you don't want to hear them. But "I'm sorry" is better than nought, that's for sure. Because people are. sorry it happened, sorry your life is in turmoil and fear. It all sucks. And people are sorry to see you in so much pain. Like others have said, all you can do right now is minute by minute, hour by hour for now. Slowly but slowly that time period will stretch out to day by day and week by week, and you'll hate it all more and more as it does, as it shouldn't ever get easier, you won't miss him any less, but it does. It will. But for now, my heart and love go out to you.


Kymmie January 18, 2011 at 11:03 pm

Because I have no words. Just hugs. xx


misssy m January 19, 2011 at 9:56 am

No-one ever knows what to say. I don't. Words from us won't help. But words like these from you will help. Keep writing and we'll keep writing back to let you know we all care.


Christie January 18, 2011 at 10:53 pm

I read this earlier and didn't know how to reply. I still don't. But I've got to say something so you know I'm here, reading and crying. Big amounts of love to you xx


Linda January 18, 2011 at 10:41 pm

Lori – I am sorry and I don't apologise for that. I am sorry that you are going through this. I am sorry that you even have to know that this kind of grief exists. I am sorry that you have to contemplate the life ahead that you never knew could exist. Why am I sorry – because you have touch me with your writing and because nobody should ever have to feel like you do now. I wish I had something wise and insightful to say to you but I don't. All I have to offer you is the knowledge that I am one more person out here, whom you don't know, who cares.


LJB January 18, 2011 at 10:39 pm

I'm clueless as what to say… so I'll go with I'm sorry….

Reply January 18, 2011 at 9:53 pm

Scream and vent away, we are all here as virtual shoulders for you to lean on. Thinking of you and your family.


Kristina Hughes January 18, 2011 at 9:48 pm

People say the strangest things when faced with the traumas of others. The pain of others turns us into emotional fuck-wits sometimes. People want to fix, to be the one who makes you better. The powerlessness that trauma incites is so widespread. Your situation is not fixable. But the right professional help can help you to make it bearable.

Thinking of you and willing you on from the other side of the world. xx


Amy January 18, 2011 at 9:36 pm

hang in there – on your hairy ride.
still thinking of you.


thepixiechick January 18, 2011 at 9:27 pm

You know what? You sound normal. You sound like a normal person having a normal reaction to some totally fucked up shit. No one knows how to deal with this, the professionals do their thing, but they don't know either. As Tash said, no one can change the fact that its fucked.
You are through another day. That's something. We're here to make sure you keep getting through. xoxoxox


Duyvken January 18, 2011 at 9:26 pm

After the funeral is definitely the worst. And it doesn't ease up quickly. I don't envy you the next 8wks but take all the help you can get and just tread water for the next 2 months because you will wake up one day and it will be easier to breathe. There'll still be lots to deal with but you'll be able to breathe.
Thinking of you.


Lyn January 18, 2011 at 9:22 pm

I agree with Vee. You need to take time, do things at your own pace.

From my own experience with grief I've learnt:

– It's just shit (only one of my many friends was brave enough to say this to me in the early days)
– just take one day at a time
– don't try to do everything at once – one thing at a time. nothing is so urgent anymore
– let yourself be angry if that's how you are
– never apologise
– get a list of good friends who you know you can call or text at a moment's notice to let it all off your chest. They are probably not the friends you expected to do this. They will step up from the sidelines, as I can already see is happening through your blog.

And the awful reality is to know (as you already know) that this will be the hardest thing that you will have ever dealt with in your life. But, it is the immediate future that is the hardest. As fucked a cliche it is that you don't want to hear right now, in time this too shall pass (or at the very least, ease somewhat). Just writing that sounds bloody stupid, but it is true.

Now you are in survival mode. Take up offers of help, and keep using this forum as you need to.

And as Denyse has suggested, I hope you can find a trusted someone to help guide you through all the practical stuff that needs to be done. One step at a time.


Glen January 18, 2011 at 9:14 pm

hey mate – just keep writing it down. Post if you need to or just keep it to yourself. Whatever it takes – do it, get it out in the open. Say it write it do it.

you won't believe it and for sure I am the least qualified person to be listening to on this, but time will work its magic.

Please talk with those professionals and let out the pain.


Alex January 18, 2011 at 9:10 pm

Breathe. In, out. In, out. That's all you can do in the face of such immense pain.
And ask for help if you need it. People are so scared to come close in a situation like this but most people would bend over backwards to help if only they knew how. x


Toushka January 18, 2011 at 9:01 pm

Just commenting to say I was here. I come to read to see how you're doing. I know I'm never going to be able to say anything to make it all better. It is fucked. I'm trying really hard not to say sorry. I've been sitting here with this comment box open for ages, typing and deleting and retyping. But I got nothing that hasn't been said.


corymbia January 18, 2011 at 8:27 pm

…and I am sorry. I *know* the life you are living because I am living it too.
and I am so sorry for the both of us.

….and I am not finished clearing Greg's clothes and useless crap from our house and he died 10.5 months ago.
Baby steps.


Dorothy January 18, 2011 at 8:12 pm

I have felt what you're feeling and I, too, wrote it out. I didn't have the guts to make it public, not all of it, not the worst of it. I've been where you are.

I didn't have enough support and I nearly didn't make it. Make sure you do. Because one parent is better than none.


Nerdycomputergirl January 18, 2011 at 8:10 pm

Thinking of you Lori and wishing you strength and help from those around you.


Curvaceous Queen January 18, 2011 at 7:58 pm

There isn't anything that I can offer you but a destination for your voice. You've been in my thoughts


The Mummy Hat January 18, 2011 at 7:47 pm

Do what you need to do Lori, and tell others what needs to be done.
You need to be looked after now.
Rest, breathe, do whatever you need to do.
We'll all still be here, sending you light and love, praying for you, doing whatever it is we do for people we care about. x


Brenda January 18, 2011 at 7:33 pm

I am here holding you in my heart. Praying that God will give you the strength to go on one day at a time.xxxxxx


Langdowns January 18, 2011 at 6:59 pm

I know nothing can help ease your pain. Nothing. Hopefully, one day soon, it won't hurt quite as much. Still thinking of you – daily.


Lucy January 18, 2011 at 6:52 pm

It is fucked. I am sorry that it's fucked, because no one should have to bear grief like that, least of all you. Grief is an emotion that offers zero reward.

I am sorry there is no other option but to take each hour, each day, each week, as it comes, waiting, holding on, just waiting, for the pain to subside just a little.



Victoria Masterman January 18, 2011 at 6:50 pm

Throwing you a bucket full of love.
Sometimes the professionals need to be scared, take them out of their comfort zone and give them a challenge or two. I am glad you have a strong network around you xxoo


Torkona January 18, 2011 at 6:47 pm

I am sorry to read about your loss.

– tork


Hear Mum Roar January 18, 2011 at 6:23 pm

I'm glad you've got some help at hand, eg counsellors etc. We're all here for you, and please know that during our days, you and your lovely family are more in our thoughts than you could possibly know


Caitlyn Nicholas January 18, 2011 at 5:59 pm

Hugs Lori :) And well done for scaring the professionals, as one who has a lot of counselling in her life, I do enjoy when I make them drop their pen – give 'em hell I reckon.

But seriously, huge hugs.


Vee January 18, 2011 at 5:17 pm

I hear you Lori. I felt the same way when my husband passed away. Everyone gets on with their lives and there you are still stuck and struggling. It's something you just have to deal with and talk when you need to because people are scared to mention it, they are scared to upset you. So you need to bring it up whenever you need to.

It's been 8 months since my husband died, his clothes are still in his wardrobe, his desk is untouched. Do it whenever you are ready to do it.

You will get through it.


Moiaussii January 18, 2011 at 4:39 pm

Anything I say will be inadequate but I hope that it brings some comfort to know that people are listening.
You have every right to be angry with everything and everyone. And we are here to hear it


Katy January 18, 2011 at 4:30 pm

I don't know what to say but please keep writing and know that we are all reading x


Ms Styling You January 18, 2011 at 4:17 pm

Keep writing and keep scaring the professionals. That means your getting it out. Which won't make it better any time soon but it's better than holding it in. Love to you xxx


lori January 18, 2011 at 4:13 pm

Oh Lori, I've been so worried about you – like everyone else. I'm glad you're talking to someone. Whatever anyone says is just going to be inadequate, but at the very least, it's sincere. It's not fair that you're in this pain and all we can do is say we're here and we care…but it's what we do because it's what we can do. I wish I could say something really beautiful like Rhonda did, a few comments above mine. Can I just say, "What she said"?
Much love.


Marlene January 18, 2011 at 3:47 pm

I am sorry, sorry that I can't do anything to ease your pain. Sorry that I can't make it all right in your world again.
I love you Lori xoxoxo


Anonymous January 18, 2011 at 3:44 pm

Reading the raw emotion, anger and heartache in your posts made me realise so much about my own behaviour around people who have suffered such a trauma. A good friend lost her partner and her father in one cruel blow a few years back, and things unfolded as you say – we all rallied around for the time before the funeral (took leave, whatever was necessary to be there with her) but after the funeral we all drifted back to our own lives. We didn't mean to, and I certainly didn't realise it had happened. But it did, and that's not right.
It's not fair. At all. It is the suckiest, crappy, awful, fucked up thing that could have happened – and it's made worse because those who love you don't understand what they're doing can be making it harder.
I have never met you, and it was this terrible tragedy that led me to your blog from BB (I had never come across it before) and now I find myself drawn to it, and to you. Part of it is the human instinct to be curious, but so much of it is pure heartbreak for the devastation you are experiencing. Not an hour goes past that I don't think about you and your family, and send all the good energy I can muster your way. It's not much – but it's what I can do.


River January 18, 2011 at 3:25 pm

Lori, every commenter above me has said the words I don't know how to.
I'm glad you're seeing a grief counsellor, getting help. At first it may not seem to be helping, but gradually it will. They know that when you talk, scream, rage and cry, that you're not doing it at them; they know this is the grief making itself known. They know that this is part of the way to moving on, ( I won't say healing, that takes so much longer).
Take hugs, comfort and help from wherever you can. Love you.


Wanderlust January 18, 2011 at 3:21 pm

I love you sweetheart. I can't say I know what you're going through. Some of it — the shock and worry about how you're going to cope on your own, the disbelief — not all of it. But know that I am here holding you in my heart and I hate that you are hurting so much. I'll be here through all of it.


Sarah January 18, 2011 at 2:47 pm

I love you to the moon chickadee. I'm not sure what else to say & I'm angry with myself that I can't formulate the right words in my brain.

But know that I am thinking of you and that I will be there whenever you call, whenever you need me. Ok? OK.


Donna January 18, 2011 at 2:09 pm

I know these words really are useless in the grand scheme of things, and nothing we say or do can make this fucked up situation any better but I just hope you know that even though we've never met I have thought of you constantly, daunted by your nightmare and hoping you can teach us all one day to be as strong as you. You have a story to tell and the beautiful talent to do it justice. This blogging community adores you and will carry you through tears and tragedy as well as triumph, because I believe one day you will stand tall once more x


ForeverRhonda January 18, 2011 at 1:58 pm

I am sorry that this happened to you but I'm also angry for you. Angry that this happened to you and your family. So you can feel anyway you want to right now, angry, sad, full of grief and unrelenting rage and even though I can't possibly know what you are going through and the full extent of how you are feeling, just know that I am sad and angry right here with you.


Jacki January 18, 2011 at 1:57 pm

Lori, I wish I knew what to say. But there really isn't anything that anyone can say, is there? Nothing can change this horrible tragedy. You're right to be angry, everyone does get to go back to their own life. But we are still thinking of you and sending mountains of love your way.


jmasher January 18, 2011 at 1:56 pm

No "sorry" doesn't help at all. What you are having to live through now and in the future is pain I wish no-one else ever had to experience. And that you are having to experience it makes me feel for you and truly sorry (i.e. sorrowful).

Yes in the after funeral period – life as you knew it is gone and you have to find a new way amid the pain. Most of the supporters have faded away-back to the lives they had before. This is and will continue to be painful, hideous and difficult.

Your online community so want to be a source of support for you. Unfortunately, what you are living is something only you can do for yourself ( I so wish I could do it for you). However, if you need anything – if only to scream or vent – feel free to direct it this way.

"How the fuck" is right!


Jodie at Mummy Mayhem January 18, 2011 at 1:54 pm

Hi hon. It's really, very ok to be angry, hurt, frustrated, annoyed, ticked off at everyone right now. It really is. Write about it, but also talk about it. I agree with others here – a counsellor could maybe help, just for the fact that you can tell a complete stranger exactly how you feel without judgement.

Ask for help. Don't be afraid to.

Turn to your kids. Look at them and cherish them and believe they will be ok. They may not have their Dad, but they have you. Their loving mother. They will love you no matter what, Lori, and could be the best distraction and comfort you need right now.



Melissa *Suger Coat It* January 18, 2011 at 1:50 pm

Oh hun. I say I'm sorry because I am. I am sorry this happened and that he didn't survive it and that I can't do anything that will help or make any semblance of a difference. I am especially sorry that your kids have to experience something that I as an adult cannot fathom living through. But if it helps. I'll stop.

Love to you.


Anonymous January 18, 2011 at 1:38 pm

I saw the heartache of my best friend when I took an overdose. Survival of that episode, and subsequent events made me a better person.

I pray that you will grow stronger. And just let it all out.

You have a psychologist, please use them, please. It's free on Medicare, and the free visits start at the beginning of each year.

Don't feel alone, you have friends. :)


Mama Mogantosh January 18, 2011 at 1:35 pm

A book by Joan Didion called 'The Year Of Magical Thinking' outlines the unexpected death of her husband. Perhaps reading about somebody elses pain can at least give you a brief respite from the unrelenting horror of your own right now?

And this is Freud on grief: 'The reality of death can only be accepted bit by bit, at great expense of time and cathartic energy, and in the meantime, the existence of the lost object is psychically prolonged.'

Be kind to yourself where you can Lori. This is all so fucked up. Big


Mich January 18, 2011 at 1:34 pm

let it out.. say fuck all you want. its ok to be angry.


Samantha January 18, 2011 at 1:27 pm

My heart breaks for you…
~Love, Samantha~


Maxabella January 18, 2011 at 1:23 pm

Dear Lori. Dear, dear Lori. I hope you have a grief counsellor. I hope you have an army of people knocking on your door insisting that you get out of their way so they can take over the day to day running of your house and all the bits that need attention. I hope you have someone's shoulder to cry on and someone's ear to scream into. Right now I just hope that you are grieving and not really thinking that you are 'supposed to get on with your life'. Just be sad and mad and bad right now, dear Lori. x


Evonne January 18, 2011 at 1:22 pm

I wish I knew why this happened to you. I've seen my mom go through the loss of her husband. My brother and I grew up without a father (more him because he was younger). There's really no other way to put it than it sucks. It fucking sucks!

Personally, blogging is great therapy, but talking to actual person can really help. For you as well as the kids. I really wish I had some better advice for you, but please know you and your family are in my heart.


Veronica January 18, 2011 at 1:20 pm

Oh Lori, would that we could turn back time. Make it better, fix it before reality slaps you in the face like this.

And you're right. At the end of the day, as much as my heart hurts for you, it's not my reality. My life isn't in shambles. It doesn't mean I don't ache, knowing that yours is and wish I could make it better. But like they say, if wishes were horses, beggers would ride.

I've been thinking about you often and sending good energy your way. Pretty useless in physical terms, but there you go.

Strength. Love. If you want to email me and scream in general, you know I'd be there for you. xxxxx


Fleur January 18, 2011 at 1:19 pm

Hour by hour. It's all you need cope with right now. Know that you are thought and prayed for every day, by strangers you don't exsist, because I've told them your story.

Lori, I wish I could say something to ease your pain, but I can't so I won't pretend. But you are thought of.


Michele January 18, 2011 at 1:10 pm

I dont know… I wish I did. I wish there was something that would make things better… I really do.


Being Me January 18, 2011 at 1:04 pm

Yep. And feel free to tell me to fuck off too.

I understand, whether you believe it or not. You're so right: I realised after the funeral of my daughter that one of the main reasons I didn't want it was the inevitable after… because that was just endless to me. Days and days and months and years and OMFG how will I do this for the REST of my life? I can't possibly. Very, very dark days they were – I feel for you tremendously. I know the resentment of other people's mundane and the inane sorries (and I've given you some! so I'm sorry about that! again…) but I think that's why I am sorry – because I know it hurts like a motherfucking bitch. Literally, physically hurts. Everywhere.

Hour by hour. Honestly, right now, that's all there needs to be. xxxx


showandtellideas January 18, 2011 at 5:57 pm

Really glad to hear you have some professionals on your side who can help you get through this.

Much love


Keshia January 18, 2011 at 5:36 pm

Just leaving you some love xxx


Tash January 18, 2011 at 5:00 pm

A wise woman said to me at my son's funeral: You can get all the grief counselling in the world. Nothing changes the fact that the whole thing is just fucked.

The days and weeks after the funeral drift and it can feel like you're drowning. People move on and you're left to deal with the agony.

Get the grief counselling. Scream into the pillow. Stare endlessly at blank walls. Do whatever you can to manage. It's the patronising bloody social workers that pissed me off the most. If someone isn't working for you, find help from someone else.

Hold on.

Reply January 18, 2011 at 4:10 pm

I won't say sorry, I want to thank you for still writing. Just so we know that you are there, feeling whatever it is that you are feeling from minute to minute or hour to hour. And giving us the opportunity to send you love and strength. x


Toni January 18, 2011 at 1:50 pm

The thing about raw grief is, it's as real as life gets.
All the other stuff? worrying about what school your kid gets into and if you can lose enough weight to fit into that dress you love? it's like gauzy curtains, covering over the terrifying truth.

It isn't fair that you have to live this life. It isn't fair that other people get to worry about what to have for dinner, while you don't know how to make it through to dinner-time.
There isn't anything anyone can say or do to make it better, no matter how much we want to — and that isn't fair either.
The only thing I know – from experience – is that it gets better with time… and how fucking useless is that right now?

Sorry is such an inadequate word.
Those of us who've been on this road, we hurt for you. We remember the dark that threatened to suffocate us, the dreadful weight in our hearts and arms, the ache of tears shed and un-shed.
We don't feel your pain. We don't feel your anguish or your anger. But we remember ours, and with all our hearts, we wish this wasn't happening to you.


Madmother January 18, 2011 at 1:11 pm

I know, believe me, different type, but I know.

All you can do is get through each day. Do not plan ahead, allow the anger to burst through.

It is more fucked than anyone ever realises and I just hope thos around close to you can step up and help you in the physical. It will never be enough to bring life back as it was but it will help. A little.

As for the emotional, and in some small way financial, we are here.

And as hard as it may be, all you need do is ask. Because the other sucky thing about grief is that we do not want to push in and make it worse, as everyone needs different things at a time like this. And so we wait to be guided in some way by you. Unfair, I know. But life and people.


Denyse Whelan January 18, 2011 at 1:09 pm

Who is available for you to talk, really talk/cry/shout/scream to?
Yes, writing is an outlet…my opinion is you need a grief counsellor STAT.
Channelling your energies will assist somewhat by "letting it out" but nothing AT ALL will soothe..yet, for you & the kids you do have to do/care/be.
More than anything my advice is to seek help where the professionals lend their skills to steer a course for you that doesn't feel like bashing your head against a brick wall.
Is there a person, trusted & caring, who can assist you with the practical items you've outlined. You need guidance …good, sound non-judgmental guidance from someone who is s help not a hindrance.
I don't know you ..and you can reject all I write. But what I do know is how to help a person who wants/seeks help. I am a practical, knowledgable and caring retired teacher/principal who lives in Sydney. I am a mother of 2 adults, grandmother of 7c if you want to have any assistance from me, DM on twitter. denwise1


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