It’s been over a week now since I wrote my last post. That week feels like a lifetime. Everyday feels like a lifetime. Every hour and every minute. As we slowly creep into February I have no concept of the day of the week, apart from Sundays, every Sunday I relive the day that shattered our lives. I didn’t realise that I could feel any worse than I did that day. But Sunday 25th easily took that crown. After being discharged from hospital on the 26th I was home. Thinking well I’ve been to rock bottom, but this last week showed me that there is no bouncing back from rock bottom, you just sit there.
As the week wore on I very quickly found out that I wasn’t able to manage. Struggling even to string my own thoughts together. Thursday my anxiety was virtually out of control. The constant tremors absolutely exhausting. The adrenalin surging through my whole body, it is so hard to explain but the only thing I can relate it to is when you have a near miss car crash and you get those intense butterflies in your stomach and it comes up your chest and into your throat, your heart pounds in your chest, your hands are clammy, a constant headache. Well, that’s where I’m at, all the time. Visibly noticeable to those around me, lifting a drink I could barely hold the glass without it shaking everywhere, gripping a pen virtually impossible. Not able to concentrate, not taking in what people were saying to me. I just had to go to bed. Hoping for some relief. As I lay there and close my eyes, I couldn’t even rest, my eyes shaking with the tremors. How does that work? Why does it happen? I have never in my life felt like this or experienced anything like it.
To say I slept that night would be a lie, laying there with every thought going through my head, What if I’d gone in to him earlier? What if I’d not listened to the doctors and taken him to hospital? Was he in pain? Running through every detail of finding him on the Sunday morning was only torturing myself but I had no control over what I was thinking. As I look at everyone around me I feel like I should be further ahead on this journey, like I should somehow be living with it better. But the fact of the matter is I’m not, I’m nowhere near, not even close, this last week has actually been the worst I have felt since losing William. I didn’t think I could ever feel as bad than the days immediately following the 14th of December but I was wrong. I no longer have that immediate shock, the complete numbness, when you still don’t think it’s real.
This last week has passed in a fog. Some days I haven’t even had the strength to get out of bed, the need to be with William has completely consumed me. William will never be coming back, so where does that leave me? Stuck here, in a life that I don’t want, a life that doesn’t include William. I have never in my life before felt so much despair, there are no words to describe or explain to you what this feeling is like. Can you imagine a time in your life or when something has happened where going to sleep and not waking up, that not living anymore, that taking your own life is the better option rather than going through another minute of this pain. This is where I’ve been.
Until you have been there (and I hope you never are) it’s very difficult to understand. Those that are around me don’t know how to help me, no-one can, no-one can fix this, no-one can bring William back. I’m having daily visits with the mental health team and psychiatrists, numerous visits to the doctors, therapy, and when necessary going to hospital. Not to mention the plethora of tablets I’m taking just to function. But this is my own battle, it has to be one that I want to win, and therein lies my problem. I know that at the end of the road there is a life for me, not a better one, not one I had planned, but a life. However, at the moment I am sat on the path next to the road in a bubble, not wanting that life, because I know that life is without William.
But for now I accept where I am. Accept that I am no further down the road than this. Accept that all these feelings and thoughts I am experiencing are normal, but I will not accept what has happened, that is something I will never do.
This is what it feels like to go to hell, but I’m not back yet.