This week I have struggled.
I couldn’t even really tell you why.
It’s everything…and nothing…all rolled up together.
It forms a great big ball of blergh that makes me just want to stay in bed and hibernate.
I have been recovering from a badly sprained shoulder sustained while mountain biking with my middle boy. I hit the dirt hard and skidded. It is getting better, but aches all the time. The ache turns into a stabbing burn when I move it wrong, which seems to be a lot. I’m not a fan of pain, so I am getting very cranky about it.
The school holidays are over, so I am back at work. I normally like work. Not so much at the moment. Everyone is annoying me. Everything feels too hard.
I am trying to get the house clean and tidy, but really can’t be bothered. I start doing something, then just stop…no reason why. The house just feels like a house, not like my home. Which is stupid, it IS my home. It is my stuff, and my families stuff. But it still feels wrong.
So I give up on the house and go to do things in the garden. I just end up sitting at the table in Mum’s garden, staring into space. Thinking of nothing. Thinking of everything.
I am missing Mum. Like, REALLY missing Mum. I don’t know why now so much more than before, but it is like a physical pain. I am not sleeping well, and my first emotion upon waking each morning is extreme sadness.
Sometimes I wake already crying.
It is very hard to shake off, and continue with the day. Sometimes I just don’t want to.
We have been seriously looking into buying an investment property. Using the money from Mum. All she wanted was for us to get our shit together, and be secure, so I know it is something she would approve off. She would be so happy for us. We signed a bit of paper the other day, putting a hold on a place. Subject to this, that, and the other. It’s not final, it might not happen, we need to wait and see. After we signed I started to get shaky. Really shaky. The guy thought I was nervous.. After he left I went into the bathroom, not sure if I was going to throw up, or burst into tears.
I did neither, just stood there, staring at the mirror. At the face that looks so much like hers. Even with all my hair cut off I look so much like her. But I didn’t look nervous, or stressed, or grieving…I looked empty.
I felt empty.
I still do.
I am making an effort, trying to be cheerful at work. Spending time with my family. Getting excited about the big holiday we have planned. And I am excited, I really am. But underneath it all I still feel empty.
Because Mum is dead.
We can buy a property…because Mum is dead.
We can pay off our debts…because Mum is dead.
We can go on an amazing holiday…because Mum is dead.
And I just want her back