The Whisper

I don’t know why I chose to write this today of all days, the 8th anniversary of my daughter’s death but I wanted to share this whilst it was still fresh in my memory. A strange phrase popped into my head this morning when I awoke, I found myself wondering what Emily would be like as an 8 year old and what would she like and this phrase came to me in a quiet whisper.

“May your day be filled with sunshine, bubbles and rainbows”

So I guess there is my answer and what wonderful things to love they are, warm sunshine, the mischief of bubbles drifting around the house and rainbows with golden promises after a storm has passed.

So despite what day it is today, I found myself smiling at these thoughts, at the mischief . Of time spent in the sunshine, blowing bubbles with a face painted with rainbows. A funny random dream, a wish for a memory that never was and yet rather than feeling sad at it’s thought I found myself smiling as if it were a genuine memory. Perhaps a gift that cannot be explained but I will take that gift and hold it tight forever.

These last few months have been a struggle, my mental health took a nose dive a few weeks ago and it has been hard to pick myself back up off the floor again. I have found myself clock watching into the wee small hours,seeing hours of the day I never saw even when I was young enough to go clubbing, but despite having a serious case of the flits, not being able to concentrate on things for longer than 20-30 mins if that, Bob has been nudging me to write again.

Writing is a shield, a distraction of sorts, even though I never feel like anything I write is any good, it doesn’t stop me from trying (that in itself is unusual) Part of me wants everything I do to be perfect even if I’ve never done it before, I guess it’s the extreme Virgo perfectionist in me manifesting itself to the point that a lot of the time I have all these ideas but never put them into action for fear of them not being instantly perfect. I need to learn to embrace my mistakes, that things don’t always go to plan and that is okay too.

I need to embrace the sad part of me, the part I keep hidden away in a box to the point that box is now over flowing. This fear I have of opening the box and not being able to shut it again is an all consuming factor but it is now manifesting in negative memories playing on a loop in my head and randomly appearing when I least expect it and is why I have been struggling so much of late.

I decided to look at myself from the outside in, like I am my own detective, trying to solve the puzzle that is me and I realised that I potentially have PTSD, all my symptoms seemed to fit and I wonder why I didn’t really realise this sooner, but rather than beating myself up about it that old defiant streak in me kicked in and is now going “right, now we have an inkling of what’s going on, what are we going to do about it because this girl doesn’t give up without a fight” So that is what I am doing, fighting the dark clouds circling, fighting the negative emotional wreck and embracing me, I am reaching out to others to join my fight, to give me the tools I need to do battle with myself, to remove the sobby mess that seems to be waiting in the shadows for me to let my guard down at every given opportunity. I need to be brave enough to walk towards those shadows, invite the sobby version to tea and have a good heart to heart, to shed some light on this dark corner, but this is going to take time.

In the meantime I know Bob will be there nudging me towards the pen and paper as he always has been and I will take comfort in it, they say the pen is mightier than the sword, so what better way to fight this battle than with mine?

Here is my first shot at winning the war.

Until next time x

MJ