Monday, 10 October 2011

Coming to terms

I eventually went to college today. It wasn't a case of feeling strong enough to go back to normal, it was more that I felt I needed the company.

The bus journey was awful, though. I kept thinking back to Friday, not knowing what had happened, the fear and the dread. My mp3 player had worked its way round to Linkin Park - A Thousand Suns. In many ways, this weekend had felt like the end of the world. I felt like hope, although not dead, was dim and fading fast.  I really cannot praise that album enough. I'm beginning to see things a little clearer now - zooming out, if you will. There's a bigger world out there, and today I saw a part of it.

I managed in for the second class. I met A and B and told them what had happened. They hugged me and patted me on the back and communicated that they were truly sorry for my loss. And during class, at times, I even managed to laugh. At the end of the day, I told them I couldn't face telling C over text, so B offered to tell him for me. I couldn't be more grateful for my friends' support.

And before I forget, to Tori and Lucia, thank you for the kind words. Knowing people care is one of things that helps me cope. A few months ago, only two real people cared about me, but now there's at least six. That's one of the things that most perplexes me about life - how quickly things can change.

Time seems like it's moving so fast, but I've grown so much in the past two months. It's as if, before I started college, I was used to looking at the world in a geological timeframe, where a millenium is short enough. Now, things happen so fast and change so much that you think it must have been at least a month when it's only been a week and a half.

I've been at college for less than two months. Two months used to fly by for me. Now, two days ... well, like I've said before, a lot can happen in two days. And not even a week ago. My Mum sprained her ankle on wednesday, and two days later she was dead. Has the world always worked like this? Was I too wrapped up in my own events to notice the changes around me?

I have to admit, the weekend's been tough on me. I had to be strong for my Dad. I kept it in my mind that although I lost my mother, he also lost his wife. I don't think it would have been fair to ask him to be strong for both of us.

I think he needs someone to talk to, though. He doesn't have many friends, just acquaintances, really. I think he made this family his main priority in life. He used to have friends, through playgroup and babysitting and things like that. I guess then it's really my fault, for being so weird.

Maybe some people from church would be willing to lend him an ear over a cuppa. He's already phoned our minister to see when he's free for the funeral. It's set for thursday, by the way. Dad already phoned Mum's work on Friday afternoon to let them know about the bad news. He's going to phone them tomorrow morning so they can pass on details of the funeral to her colleagues. Mum never talked to us much about work, but she's not the kind of person who would work in the same hospital for nearly ten years and not make any friends. I am a little nervous about running into many psychiatrists or psychologists at the funeral, especially ones who knew my mother. But I guess it's only natural for me to feel that way, since she seemed to be "protecting me from them" to a certain degree.

Anyway, I'd best be going. Goodnight everyone.


  1. I'm glad my words mean something, Barb. I'd like to thank you, too, for trying to talk sense with me when I went under over the weekend. I guess we've all had a rough time of it. But you know what? We both came out a little stronger, a little older than we went in.

    We'll all make it through this together. Let's stay strong.

  2. You would have done the same for me. Promise me you won't be too harsh on yourself. It might sound hard to believe, but I know how you feel. There's so much that I regret, but in order to make amends I first had to move on.

    And the way I see it, guilt's a good sign, shows you're not a monster.