849 days since you left...

One of my friends, (Kev, who actually told me to start this blog), said to me when he read the last post, that he felt that was the final one... And I agreed. It felt like it had a natural ending...

That was until last week....

As I was training for the Manchester 10k…running, grumpily, (because we all know how much I dislike running) I thought about Ben – for many reasons, but mainly reminiscing about the support he gave me when I was training for the half marathon in 2018 and how proud he was of me when I completed that – but also because I was running in a charity place for Mind – and that always spurred me on, because I knew Ben, and many others with mental health issues, have to fight and get through things on a daily basis, and so I knew I had to get through the runs, because it was nothing compared to what those people suffering, go through on a daily basis. Which then led me on to thinking about what Ben is thinking when he is watching over me. 

In one of the notes that Ben had left me on previous, unsuccessful suicide attempt – he told me he was going, but he believed I was "strong and would get by without him". He no longer wanted to "dull my sparkle" or for me to have to "make allowances for him and his tainted mind". I remember talking to him about it after; crying and saying I wouldn’t ever get over it – which is true - but after he passed, I knew I had to try and live a life that would make him proud. Going through the ‘grief process’, there were times I never believed I would, and it would take me down too. Times I didn’t want to be here anymore. Times when all the fight was gone out of me.

So back to the final run before the race. It was only 5k, but it was a beautiful evening, the sun was shining, blue skies, no wind and I hadn’t eaten any flies (which believe me is a win). Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t enjoying the running part, but all of a sudden, I just felt happy. I thought about what Ben would think, then I smiled. It was a real moment. It then led to me suddenly feel all these other positive emotions. Happy, content, pride.. And it shocked me because I have spent so long through this grief period feeling numb or just feeling negative feelings.

Then I had another feeling – I felt inspired to write this post. But wait - I wasn’t in a negative head space!? For those that have read the previous posts know that when I wrote them, it was more often than not 5am in the morning, through tears, despair and sleep deprevation. That’s the time when all the words came out for me – when I was in a horrible, dark place, and I needed to get the words out of my head, not when I'm feeling.. erm, happy!?

The positive feelings didn’t stop there. I then felt grateful. Grateful for so many things..

For my kids, that have seen there mummy go to hell and back, as well as going there themselves at times - they kept me going when I believed I couldn’t anymore.

Grateful to have met Ben and for the time we had together. He taught me so much and brought so much joy to my life, even if he didn’t always see it and felt I'd be better off without him. The memories we made will be with me forever, held tightly.

For my utterly amazing (understatement) friends (and that ranges from my closest friends who are awesome – to friends I haven’t seen for years, but have been there via social media or messages) AND complete strangers!? 

I have put my closest friends through the mill, and then some. They have literally carried me at times. They’ve stopped me from doing some crazy stuff (some things did slip through the net (ahem Crib Goch Karen and Kev…) but I am very headstrong at times and hard to tame… They have known instinctively when I’ve needed them – I didn’t even need to ask. They gave me everything I needed to heal and to grow from a caterpillar on a leaf, to a butterfly again.

 I’m grateful for Bens family – I gained two sisters in Briony and Kirsten, whom I love very much, as well as a Bear. We have laughed and cried together on many occasion – including laughing and nearly crying at Briony’s car breaking down on the way back from the inquest – we were convinced Ben was chuckling away at our misfortune that day.. 

My own family - for who it must have been so difficult to see their daughter, sister, auntie.. go through what I did and feel so helpless. There is no guidebook on how to deal with someone grieving and it’s a learning curve for everyone.

For my friends at Mace, who supported me and gave me a voice/platform to share my stories for a better good, and for many who saw me breakdown on many occasions and never judged me, just showed love and compassion.

To the other people (who started off as strangers, then became friends) that gave me a platform too, like Ryan (walk for your wellbeing), Michaela (Morning Juice) and Laura and Chris (Novus).

My amazing psychologist, Siri Harrison, who is a wonderful human being. Our sessions will come to an end soon and I am dreading not having her. She has empowered me, made me see myself in a different (positive) way, supported me, never judged me and allowed me to be completely honest and open to some awful thoughts and feelings. I know that’s her job, but having had a psychologist before that was utterly terrible, I felt truly blessed to have found her.   

I have so much to be grateful for and I really am. Including being grateful for the person I am today.

So, this is going to be the end of the blog here (now bear with me here with the platitudes that I often, myself, dismissed). I want to end this blog with hope. I am not ‘over’ losing Ben and I still love him, I always will. And I know this isn’t the ‘end of grief’ because it will never go away. I still have waves – but they are waves and not a tsumani that sweeps me off my feet.

Time is indeed a healer. But you can’t see that when in the eye of the storm. I have come out the other side, and you can too. You have to believe. You have to know ‘this too shall pass’ and that 'brighter days do come'. You have all seen my journey through this blog and social media. I am proof.

It may take longer than you imagine, it may be messier than you imagine – you may feel you’ve nailed it – then have the rug pulled from under you again, many times. It will change you, but you have the power to let it change you for the better. It’s not easy, but its possible. I am a different person now, but for the better.

Everything happens for a reason – you may not like it, it may rip you apart, but you can, (and especially with the right people around you) get through it and rebuild.

Which makes me no longer the unluckiest, lucky person – it just makes me the luckiest, full stop.

💗

 

In memory of Ben Smallwood

11.11.1981 - 28.01.2020

💛