Life After Suicide
It gets harder to say and relate to the word suicide and yet we are living with the repercussions of it every day now for the rest of our lives. It gets harder because it gets further away and less a part of our daily vocabulary. But. For me I suppose it is always there with me in my head.
Before this I never found life tiring. It had its difficulties and its shortcomings but now it tires me in every conceivable way. Having to carry on is burdensome really. Life is just a series of choices in a physical body made more interesting by the distractions provided. I used to be very full of life and no part of me was dead. Now a large part of me IS dead and I refuse to pretend otherwise. Acknowledging that it has died is okay. I wasn’t ready for it to be removed and I didn’t give permission but this kind of thing happens to all of us at one point or another however far along we are. The proof in how far you get is in a) working out the game b) deciding if you want to stay c) becoming a good player. I’ve done a and b – if I can find enough distractions I think I can achieve c.
And that is all there is to life! And I don’t feel this is a particularly pessimistic view. I think the opportunities of having a physical body are vast and pleasurable and that I will have many more to come personally. Hurt and anger gets diverted through, writing, helping others and intuitive journeying. I have a lot of time now! I don’t see many people I think I may have developed the dreaded Widow’s Curse and it’s led me to feel completely uneasy living in the city I do. I realise that is not ideal but to achieve the radical jump ship move I am looking for would require me most likely to split my kids up or take them away from everything they have ever known. So I stay for them and to sort out our estate. The quicker the estate is solved the happier I will be. I have taken over as Director in order to appoint a liquidator this Autumn. It’s almost done! Paperwork and meetings. My husband tired of all this and no freaking wonder. The apathy got worse after his mother died – no freaking wonder.
Well anyway I must sound about eighty years old. Life is good kids it is good. You hit the bad patches but you find your distractions again and you get moving. Make more art, publish more books, learn some stuff, help other people to enjoy their lives. If you ever feel like I just described above then honour it and work through it, find your distractions and learn to laugh again. Time is not a thing you will ever have on your side.
P.S. It’s worth noting that I don’t actually talk about my grief much with anyone anymore really. I stay as upbeat as possible in everyday conversation. I let the real feeling out in notebooks, I share some of it here and it certainly shows in my collages 🙂 Just keep swimming ♥