Something I’ve really noticed recently is that I have no idea what to say when people ask “How are you?” or “How has your week been?” Sometimes I don’t even know what to say when people ask how my day has been. I don’t feel like I’ve ever had a great memory, but I bet you most of the time I could say “Yeah good thank you” or something to that effect. Now everything blurs into one. I find it really hard to separate out the days. My world is foggy, an unpredictable whirlwind of chaos and pain. This week, I wrote in my journal a little more to see what my week had been like day by day, and thought about writing it all out at the end of the week to reflect on how things had been. I feel a bit nervous about it, because I’m keeping it together quite well today and maybe this will throw me off course, but, I also think it might be a helpful activity to take time to reflect on everything that I go through in the space of 7 (long) days.
Monday
Monday’s are my ‘study day’. I’m in the final year of my doctorate so have one day a week to work on my thesis (although it could probably be a full time job in itself). I wake up with the feeling that I want to punch someone. This happens often, I just feel angry and I don’t know why or what to do with it. I stretch, as I do most mornings and get to my desk to work. I actually have a fairly productive morning working, although I never feel that I get enough done and beat myself up as usual. I listen to positive podcasts while I work to hopefully subliminally digest some of the messages. However, ‘Becky’ (my brain) is on fire during study days. She sees it as a day to throw me off course when I have few other distractions. I try to push her aside, but she begins to win this battle more and more as the day goes on, and I feel exhausted. She tells me I should have saved Jordan. I share thoughts with a friend to try and lighten the load. But continue to battle, worrying that these thoughts will never fade because when they pass, they come back later with a vengeance.
I go for a run and it’s quite warm out. I see people in the park not socially distancing and clearly not from the same household, and I feel angry and disheartened. Do people think this pandemic is over? It’s not. I want to hug the people I love too, but I can’t. Jordan isn’t here and I’ll never hug him again. Feel angry again. See a woman drop litter blatantly right in front of me and again, anger. This is a beautiful park, there’s a bin right in front of you hun. Keep running, let it go.
I don’t like to engage in self-pity, I find it really hard to feel sorry for myself. But on this evening, the feeling comes in strong and I feel sad. I cuddle Tabby and read my book (The Flat Share, would recommend). Hope for sleep.
Tuesday
I wake up feeling a bit Blergh. But I put make up on, do my hair, and actually put on a dress (after living in leggings for months). I’m part of an online open day for aspiring psychologists from BAME backgrounds. I feel really passionate about this, and am determined to spend the morning fully committed to engaging in the conference and Q&A session that I’m a part of. I really enjoy the conference and feel inspired. Lunchtime I start to go on a bit of a downer, I feel emotional but I’m not sure exactly why. I listen back to a reading I had a while back with a psychic, and it makes me feel really wobbly and my emotions heighten. I feel really fed up with my reality. I spend some time outside and try to ground myself a little as I have an online teaching session soon. Whilst I’m outside, I get a call from the bereavement counselling service that I referred myself too. Have to go through a referral form and talk about some difficult things. I feel the woman’s sympathy through the phone, which reminds me that I’m broken. But I feel that I’ve made a positive step in deciding to see someone and hope that talking more helps.
I think about Jord’s birthday next month, and how he won’t be here to turn 35. I should be planning his presents and what we would do for the day. I think about his birthday last year, and can’t believe that was the last one. By the time I log on for teaching at 2pm, I’m exhausted. I decide to do it from the sofa and try not to fall asleep. Smile for the camera. Take some stupid selfies and send them to my friends to try and brighten myself up a bit. Wonder how I’ll make it to 5pm, but somehow I do. I get out for a walk to try and wake up, as I want to do a yoga class at 6pm. The yoga class is great in content, but Becky really creeps in and I feel pissed off that she’s invaded the space I consciously make for myself when I practice yoga. My housemate has some good news, so I feel a little lift again and we drink prosecco and order a HUGE Mcdonald’s delivery. It is delicious and I veg out on the sofa. I think of Jord and how many Mcdonald’s we ate together, which we’ll never do again. We watch Disney films, which is perfect as you don’t have to think too much. Although, Becky has other ideas, and secretly tortures me all night.
Wednesday
I’m SO TIRED. I have a 9.30am meeting on Zoom, obvs. My manager tells me to take it easy today. I have stuff to do but feel too exhausted to actually do it. I spend a lot of time between the sofa and my bed. I feel so sad, and cry in bed for a while. I write a couple of poems whilst I’m in the midst of my feelings. I go for a run before dinner and mentally prepare myself for the suicide bereavement support group I attend. It’s the first one I’ve done virtually so I feel nervous (and yet again, more Zoom time and not actually physically seeing people). I’ve also not talked about some things for a while and feel anxious about that and whether it’s helpful or not. I settle as I light some candles; get myself some tea and chocolate and login to the meeting. Immediately when I see them all, I’m reminded of these other humans who I’ve only met twice but somehow feel like family. I’m reminded of their strength and resilience, which in turn reminds me of mine. We talk about so many things, I cry at points, and at other points I laugh. I feel connected to people and understood. I acknowledge that my feelings are valid and ‘normal’. I will learn to live with the pain I’m feeling, whilst also remembering Jordan and carrying him with me through the rest of my life. I go to sleep thinking about Jord as I do every night.
Thursday
God, is it the weekend yet? Not that I feel like I’ve done very much (beat myself up again). I have a day on placement today and I don’t think it’s too bad a day? (Question why I feel ‘okayish’). I watch ‘Selling Sunset’ during my work breaks and it’s addictive. I feel fairly productive and generally useful. It’s been hard not physically going to work and I haven’t ‘felt’ like a psychologist very much recently. It’s a big part of who I am, so I look forward to it feeling a bit more normal again. The day generally passes okay. I meet a friend for a VERY rainy dog walk and it’s nice to see her after so long. Still sad and strange not to be able to hug people or go to their homes and do the normal things we’d do. I decide to watch a video about coping with grief that my friend so thoughtfully and kindly sent me. I find it really moving and powerful, and write down lots of notes in my journal. These are mainly quotes to look back on and remind myself of. I feel connected again, realising I am not the only person in the world grieving and that so many people are currently experiencing grief. I feel like my emotions and experiences are validated and hope that one day I can integrate the loss of Jordan into my life. The most powerful quote for me was “Welcome everything, push away nothing”. After feeling more peaceful, I struggle to sleep, which is really frustrating. My mind is buzzing again with questions and ‘what ifs’. Eventually get off to sleep, but it’s not a restful one.
Friday
I am in and out of sleep, struggling to come round to the day. While I’m half asleep, I have the thought “I can’t wait for things to go back to normal so I can go back to Jord’s”. In that moment, my mind made the assumption that life would return to normal post-covid. It hits me like a ton of bricks and I cry in bed before getting up to face the day. I wonder about facing the day and whether I’m actually capable of it. I eventually get up around 9am and drag myself around the house to get ready for my 9.30 meeting. I feel so heavy and sad. I’m angry and agitated. Again, I think about punching someone. However, surprisingly I have quite a good morning and work picks me up. Again, I feel useful, which is nice. I feel hopeful that when life is busier again, I might not feel so shit. I meet a friend for a walk and it’s a new park I’ve not been to and it’s lovely. I drive home and feel ‘okay’. I question the feeling. I have the thought “I might be okay again one day”. I visit a supermarket for the first time in 3 months- not exactly fun but it’s a normal activity isn’t it and I kind of enjoy it. It’s a Morrison’s, which was the supermarket I shopped in with Jord. Feel sad that we will never shop or eat together again. I spend the night with my housemate and we drink more prosecco, which is really nice… We decide to watch a girly film (again, nice), until something in it triggers me. I try to keep it to myself but eventually I can’t. I break down and spend the rest of the evening sobbing and trying to talk things through. Everything comes flooding back to me and I am so overwhelmed. I’m grateful to have someone with me to talk to. We eat chocolate and she lets me talk as much as I need to. We go to bed at 1am and I am shattered and emotionally drained. Will this ever get any easier?
Saturday
Surprisingly, I’m up at a decent time and do my usual Saturday yoga class at 9am. Feel okay, but then a bit sick around half way through (probably the prosecco). I worry about how overwhelmed I was last night because it’s so awful when I get into that place. I have jobs to do to keep busy for the rest of the morning and plan to meet a friend for a socially distanced meet up in the park later on. I get ready and look forward to going out. Again, so many people not socially distanced in the park and generally being a bit antisocial. Very weird vibes and me and my friend are confused and feel old. However, it doesn’t matter to us as it’s just SO nice to sit and catch up properly for hours after months of only having whatsapp and video calls. I end up talking a lot more about Jordan and everything that’s happened more than I thought I would. My perspective was different today compared to last night. I feel really grateful to be alive and to have such good friends that I can talk to so openly and try to make sense of things. I get home and my housemates have offered to make me dinner, which is so nice and I feel cared for. We have a nice meal together and watch trash TV on the sofa. My life is so different right now than what I would have anticipated this time last year. But I’m really grateful to be able to be where I am, and to spend time with friends. I feel twinges of sadness thinking about my usual Saturday nights with Jord. I’m tired, I sleep like a log.
Sunday
Today- I wake up feeling okay ish again. I have a fairly busy day for a Sunday and particularly look forward to some phone catch up’s with people. I think about Jord. I also just manage to stay in the moment a little more, and look forward to surprising my dad with a video call with both brothers, which is hard to co-ordinate when one of them lives in Australia and works unsociable hours. The day isn’t over yet (when I wrote this), and who knows what it could bring..... (it was an 'okay ish' one it turns out).
Reading back over this really shows me how up and down my life is right now. It’s really hard. There’s no real pattern to how I feel or when.
I miss Jordan every day. Becky continues to be a bitch. One thing I do still know is how loved and cared for I am. This gets me through each hour, each day, each week. Grieving during a pandemic is beyond shitty. My life has changed an insane amount in the last 7 months and so I come back to my intention of ‘surviving each day’. I find it depressing to think like that, but for now, it’s all that is possible to expect of myself.