Not a great start to the day today.
Last night I didn’t sleep well and in the moments I snatched in the early morning I was plagued by bad dreams, one in particular that has stayed with me in which I was searching for Tony in a house I barely recognised. I felt low on waking but wasn’t sure why and it wasn’t until an hour or so later that the dream resurfaced (as they do).
To cap that I had to go to the hospital (San Camillos) where Tony died this morning. Since that afternoon I haven’t liked going there and have to steel myself before. After last night’s dream this took double effort. However I managed to hold myself together and get there and back without cracking.
Home again I did my usual morning trawl of friends posts and came across a short video about male suicide in the UK. Did you know that ONE in FOUR UK men have thought about suicide? I had always thought my life to be amazing up to this year and had never entertained the idea. This year it has been far different. In the video a few men talked about their experiences, and it wasn’t an easy watch. I’ve recently posed myself the same questions they were asking of themselves. How do you tell someone who doesn’t want to hear? On more than one occasion I have been told that I need to talk to someone, by that comment I take it to mean ‘someone else’. How do you tell anyone when the words are locked inside, when the fear is so great? I have also been instructed that I mustn’t be stupid and act on my thoughts. That advice is so counter-productive and shaming.
When I hit a low before Tony was always there. No wise words, just there, always, no matter what a shitty bitch I became. I miss that so much. I have a couple of great (and I mean the best ever) friends who check in with me daily (they’ll know who they are), whom I appreciate more than they could ever know. But sometimes the blackness is too strong. Sometimes I just have to hide and wait for the heaving storm clouds to pass, washing them away with copious amounts of sobbing. Luckily the animals are always on hand in their own consolatory way, even now Franki is trying to cuddle up as close as possible. They always sense my moods.
Today to lift my mood I took Cuddy and Franki to the beach, something I had promised them when they had behaved so well in the car for the vet visits the other day. I am super-impressed how well they sit in the back with their seat-belts on. They ran and frolicked while I sat and watched gradually relieving the pressure in my head, which little by little it did. I left my phone turned off and disconnected.
When I turned my phone back on I had a few messages. One from the Wonderful Edith who suggested coffee at lunchtime. Knowing that just being with her for a while would raise my spirits more I agreed, and as always am glad I did.
I know tomorrow is another day, and yes I have plans to meet with another couple of wonderfully caring friends for lunch. I just want to get through the nights too now. And whatever you do please don’t tell me time heals- it fucking doesn’t. However occasionally a gin helps.