Getting on the Grief Train
Oh dear. Is it June already? I intended to post this in May, which was Mental Health Awareness Month, but I didn’t manage it.?
Why? Because in Mental Health Awareness month (ironically) my mental health wasn’t the best. It probably had a lot to do with the fact that my dad had just died. Dad passed away in late April from Glioblastoma, an aggressive brain cancer which took his life in 12 short months.?
He did well through the extensive brain surgery, chemo and radiotherapy, but his health nosedived in the final months.
The last two weeks were particularly harrowing as my mother, my brother and I sat with him as he lay in a nursing home bed, confused, agitated and asking to die.
For me, dad's death was a kind of nadir: the culmination - if I’m brutally honest - of about two years of sub-optimal mental happiness. There had been work stress and burnout, then processing of dad’s terminal diagnosis. Confidence loss, the onset of adult acne and the sudden, hideous realisation there had been some significant perimenopausal weight gain.
And so, during May's Mental Health Awareness Month I was otherwise mentally engaged.?Dazed and doom scrolling on Instagram.
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I was relieved that the funeral was over, but also foggily starting to grieve - all over again. Naively, I’d thought that the long, slow goodbye we’d had during dad's illness had seen me go through a lot of ‘anticipatory grief’. And that meant I’d done the majority of the grieving.
Alas, no.?
Now for the “long hard part,” a friend warned.?“There are layers,” [of grief] another said, remembering how, three months after his own father passed away and about to enter an important work meeting, it suddenly hit him like a tonne of bricks, as his “legs literally buckled from beneath me.” It is clear that 1.?Grief takes time 2. It will hit, in unexpected ways, at unexpected times. And, 3. It sends you a bit mad. There were tears in M&S when I couldn’t figure out how to return a dress nor remember my pin. Days of exhaustion, seemingly without cause. Overwhelm at basic tasks. A failure to respond to WhatsApps.?My crazy decision (I have only ever run 5KM) to enter the ballot for next year’s London marathon.
I scoffed at the friend who said I should take three months off. Who has that luxury??But he had a point.?It has taken weeks for me to get back on track. Sometimes it feels like I’m getting there. Sometimes not. Today has been good. Tomorrow might be bad. My friend, and brilliant coach Teresa Brooks says the important thing is to let the feelings and emotions come. Accept them. Just be.
I am trying to do this. Being mindful. Drawing boundaries where I need. Sitting quietly when I have a moment, allowing the tears to roll down my cheeks.
The grief train I’m on is pretty crap and I do so miss my dad.?But I am moving forward into the future with its good - and less good - days. And quietly hoping I don’t get a place in next year’s London Marathon.
Trauma Healing & Transformational Growth Coach. NLP Master Practitioner & Trainer. MHFA(England) Passionate about mental health, emotional recovery, resilience & freedom. Follow me on Substack ... bring coffee.
9 个月Writing is part of this journey too and thank you for sharing. Loss and grief are really not linear or logical and it’s lifelong: you find new ways to be without them but also to honour them. Sounds so easy, the heart says I can’t, but the soul says we must. Always here for you ??????xx