four

Tis the eve of the fourth anniversary of my first true love's suicide.  This is not a story about suicide, society  and statistics but rather my own perspective of how such an act can change one's life.

Prior to the suicide I was an outspoken girl only ever brave enough to voice it within certain circles. I envisaged the future to include a comfortable home complete with a kid or two, a dog or two and a cat or three. I was obsessed with perfect health and was aiming to make it to 100 years of age (I wanted that letter from the King or Queen!) I wanted to love & be loved, hold  & be held and to read, learn & share. Maybe I was a dreamer. 

On that fateful day, August 3, 2009, everything changed.
I became very still and our cat became very distant. She was with him and saw him through the end of his life. To this day, I still feel bad for her and protect her from ever being in that room again.

A tsunami of grief and depression engulfed me, it would consume the best part of the 2 years that followed. My diet was poor, I was lost among my peers, nothing seemed important and the disconnection to life was strong.  I couldn't get off the couch, not even to go to bed. I slept in my clothes, I would only leave the house to get cat food & a bottle of wine. Minutes lasted for hours and all I could do was stare. Life was bleak. If I read my own words from back in those early days, I often reported that I felt like I was in the eye of a storm and I could do nothing but stand there, still, while watching absolute chaos and madness surround me. These times seemed like a never ending gloom no matter how desperately I thought about dragging myself back to life. I was stuck but safe in the familiarity of a dysfunctional routine. There is an element of romanticism within the melancholy after all. Sometimes I still need to visit that place.

There were many twists and turns and forks in the road. And since then, now, four years down the track, the shy girl who aimed to please others has found her place, or at least holds the map with directions! Many hours have been spent in the therapist's office trying to come to terms with this tragic event. I admit, there are still are days when I wonder if he will come home but in reality, I know this will never occur. And I am ok. He is free from the constraints of the demands from modern day society. He would like that. 

The time between then and now is both blurred and full. The desperation, angst and misery I somehow muddled through brought me strength. I spoke up, I spoke out, I met other young people who have been bereaved by suicide. These amazing people have been there every step of the way. They have understood the days spent in darkness and not judged or voiced an opinion about it. The importance of understanding is truly undervalued by most. I trust this group of people understand the gift of worthiness they have given me. 

Today, I do not hold on to goals and labels like I once did. I find them depressing and rather contrived. It is as it is, as they say. I have my house, my dog, three cats and two turtles. I work the standard hours like we are all 'supposed to' & like everyone else, I long for 5pm, weekends & a holiday. I am surrounded by brilliant people who enrich my life just by being in it. One good thing that grief did was clear out all the fakery! I have nil interest or time for those that exist in the bubble. Nothing is taken for granted. Sometimes I hold on to bonds a little too tightly. Desertion frightens me even though I believe in the ability to be a lone warrior. 

And here we are, August 3, 2013.
I am sitting at the table in the house where one violent act changed my world. 
I love you and I miss you. This song is for you. Xx

Bat for Lashes - Daniel