I took a week off from blogging last week. I wrote stuff anyway. I just can’t seem to help myself.
It is Christmas day in the worst year of my life, and I am a ghost.
I rise early, dragging myself from a slumber that is the sleep of the living dead… if I could stay forever, warm and comfortable in that blackness, no children to rouse me with demands, wants and needs… If I could stay there, undisturbed, I would.
But I scramble myself and my senses from my bed as soon as my son calls that “Santa has been!” It may be the only thing, that tone of jittered, wondered excitement, that is capable of rousing a mother from deep sleep just as quickly as the hungry squall of a newborn, or the shriek of a toddler’s nightmare.
We examine the milk and cookies Santa has devoured, the plate the reindeer’s apple has disappeared from. I don’t take photos, although I take my camera with me. A hollow voice that sounds like an old, stretched cassette tape played over and over in my mind tells me ‘You may regret this, you may wish you had taken photos…’, but I ignore it and it causes me no anxiety. If this is tempting fate, then let it be tempted, I think, and the thought comes with a small dose of spite, but it’s cold and factual, no hot passion or spiked emotions. Because I am numb today, a nothing, holding in my husk the memories of last Christmas, just before things fell apart.
I smile, but it is plastered on, and my thoughts are a rocking rhythm of “This time last year…”
It becomes a heartbeat, a sentiment that threads itself throughout my entire day… “This time last year, we were doing this… This time last year, we were doing that.” It’s pointless and painful and it feels like biting on a rotten tooth over and over again but I just can’t seem to help it.
I am a ghost, and I exist here only for my children, to give them a Christmas they deserve. I float through the day, from place to place, house to house, family to family. I take deep breaths and try to keep that concrete numbness, because today it feels better than heart ache. Time passes, as it always does, and the day runs along like lava, flowing and bumping into itself, leaving ugly hills of dried gunk behind it. I am so glad when we are home, back were we belong. When our duties are done, our presents unwrapped, my children’s tiny souls filled to the brim with peppermint striped Christmas happiness… when this first horrible, lonely Christmas is over.
I try not to think, I try not to remember, and still I am unable to help it. This time last year, Christmas Day after the sun went down… Drinking with my husband, laughing over our children, sitting on his lap in our purple backyard courtyard as the dark settled and the stars came out.
This Christmas is over, thank goodness, it’s done and I don’t have to do it for the first time again… December has been quick and pleasant and easy. And December-ridiculous month, all show and pomp and bluster and busyness- is done with now, it’s just two more weeks and I will have made one year. And I never have to do those ’firsts’ again.
I make it almost until the end of December. The panic attacks, the one I didn’t think I could have anymore… They start then, and they don’t let up for days.
I am drowning, screaming, sobbing, a mess of emotions and heartache and despair and guilt. I knew this was coming, I knew it would happen.. It doesn’t make it any easier doesn’t make it hurts any less. The ferocity of the pain surprises even me… Aren’t we over this, this racking, sobbing, heart clenching grief, are we not over it already? It seems not. I thought I could roll through the one year mark much easier than this… it’s just another one of those things where I should have known better, and didn’t. It’s just reality, smacking me in the face again. Because I keep forgetting, somehow, how painful this can be.
{ 22 comments… read them below or add one }
oh my love *massive hugs* god I wish I could take that pain away.
Well done, for making it through.
Oh Lori, I'd been thinking of you and wondering how you fared on this toughest first Christmas. This week will no doubt be coloured with terrible memories and anxiety but know this: you have taken one step at a time to come this far and it will never be as rough as it was that spitefully tough first year. You will gain even more strength and wisdom as you go onwards, even if it is just small steps at a time. You still rock my world as the bravest chick I know online x
It's taken me 17 years and still I struggle. The firsts are the worst lovely. Thinking of you all xx
Miss Pink said it so well. You DO get used to the extra weight of it…
We're all still here for you Lori XO
Oh Lori. Dear, sweet, strong Lori. Just hold on. You never have to do this again. Each time a little less horrible, I hope and pray. You are amazing. Strong. Powerful. Just hold on. Lots of love.
sending love your way, sweet girl.
What can I say? Just sending you love really. I can't properly understand because I've never been in your situation but I really really feel for you and everyone else who has to go through what you're facing. It sounds like you just need ride that wave – accept whatever emotion comes to you and ride it out without trying to fight it. Thinking of you xxxxxx
Oh, sweet Lori. There is absolutely nothing that I or anyone else can say to you that will make you feel any better or take your pain away. So I won't even try. Just know that I am here with open arms giving you a great big hug. To be perfectly honest Lori, I would be concerned if you didn't feel the way in which you are feeling now babe. I know it's hard (especially as seeing as I don't know what its like to lose a partner, but I have lost some people extremely close to me) please try not to give yourself such huge expectations. And allow yourself to feel sad or hurt, or scared. To alot of people 1 year might seem like a long time. But it really isn't hun. It's not by any means. Feel what you need to feel Lori, and when you feel strong enough to face the day with that quirkiness that we all love, we will be here for you Lori. Through the shit times and the good, you know we're all here championing you on. Much love and light to you xo
You have come this far Lori, you can get through all of the firsts… ALL of them. You can, you will. x
Thinking of you so often, Lori. I don't comment muchbut I read every single one of your posts. I think of you most days and feel for you so very, very much. You have made it through an incredibly painful, traumatic year. It's done. Thank God! Now for the next year to be – may it be gentler and kinder and may it have some sort of glitter and sparkle for your lovely family. Goodnessknows, you deserve it. x
Kindest wishes to you and your kidlets
Kim x
Hugs
xxx
Its been 11 years but Christmas always comes at you like a hungry, happiness thief…we all get sucked in to obey…but deep down its never been ok for me since….miss you little brother 12/12/00…know that we can do it Lori its just different. Much love xxx
The first was the worst here…. mind you, the second wasn't much better, but at least my house wasn't also flooding this year.
hugs.
You've done it Lori, you've made it through the first of the most horrible times of the year for those who are greiving. Of course you were a mess, that's expected, but you did it. Next year will be better, and the year after better again. Grieving is horrendous, but it will dull. Big hugs and love, Linda x
I've been playing catch-up with you today. As I read your early December posts, where you said you were enjoying the Christmas stuff, I felt optimistic that you'd cruise right through the Holidays, and dare I say, enjoy them.
But of course it couldn't be that easy. How naive of me to think it could be.
But I think you're awesome for doing all you did for your kids' sake. and I know you'll make it through these coming week, somehow.
XX
I think it would be scarey for you to feel unaffected by these times. For the shock to have gone completely.
I don't think what you're feeling will fade, it's just that you will get used to the extra weight of it.
You have a wrold rallying around you, still a year on, and I know it isn't the one person that you want, but it's second best.
I think it would be scarey for you to feel unaffected by these times. For the shock to have gone completely.
I don't think what you're feeling will fade, it's just that you will get used to the extra weight of it.
You have a wrold rallying around you, still a year on, and I know it isn't the one person that you want, but it's second best.
It never gets 'Better' because the facts are the facts (brutal, cold, ugly and unchangeable) but you will get better at understanding yourself and understanding your emotions about those hard facts. You will get much better at this new normal over time. I am so sorry this is your journey. Much love to you this January.
The year of firsts. Biting on a rotten tooth over and over is a very good analogy. If nothing else, please try not to beat yourself up for beating yourself up over the "firsts". Just know that it is quite typical to do it. The shock of the first year of firsts will fade. My heart is with you, dear Lori. xx
I wish there was something I could say to make the pain even a little bit less, but I'm sure if there was, one of us would have said it by now. Time dulls, slowly and gradually. Take care xox
It still hits me 20 years on, don't beat yourself up over it. The first is the worst – I'm feeling for you.
Bigs hugs Lorixx I wish there was something i could say that would help but just know there is so many people thinking of you and wishing they could take away your pain. You got through Christmas, i know it must have been incredibly painful for you. It was my first Christmas without my daughter and i was dreading it, actually i was a mess for about a week before but on the actual day i was ok. The 1st anniversary (of when she died) is looming – late January. Not sure what ill do yet but ill be getting away somewhere by the sea.
Take care & be gentle on yourself Xx