The Shit List

What not to say to the newly bereaved/ annoying things people say to me:

FYI, my fiancé died, so I guess most of these relate to partner deaths, or just my overactive, over analysing mind.

Don’t cry. – I’ll flipping do what I want and its people like you that have made it hard to show my emotions, so I’m dying on the inside instead.

Oh but you weren’t married right?! Go f yourself, why should that even matter, also I’d been with him longer than the person asking had been with her husband.

Are you dating again then? Urm no, its been 4 months and I can barely speak a coherent sentence still. Your small talk is lacking, I didn’t let you know this offended me, but boy that stung.

Oh you’ve lost weight, you look good. Thanks, part of me wants to look hot 24/7 because you never look better than when struggling to stay afloat. The other part of me is unable to food shop because of the anxiety of shopping for one, and cries at the thought of eating alone…again.

Go home, you always stay late in work– Dude I sit alone binge watching Netflix, scoffing a whole pack of donuts and chain smoking , be happy to get free work off me, I’m sure my bodies better being here.

  • How are you?- Wow suddenly my mind is in overdrive, what do they mean, like truly how am I coping, or is a pleasantry??! Ahh shit, answer *chokes a little* I’m fine.

First time meeting a guy worries– So, what are you’re interests? Uhhhhh, making scrap books about my dead partner, shit no, don’t say that, uhh ah my interests were him, I blended into him and became one, what’s normal for a 20 something woman to like?! I like bed.

Why don’t you ever come visit?- Probs because I hate leaving the house and you’re awkward to be around because you edge around stuff, sometimes I like to bring shit up just to make you feel uncomfortable because that’s how you make me feel.

Wow, you’re out again! Yep drinking to forget, maybe hang out with me in a normal situation and help me adjust back into normality without booze.

What are you going to do? Are you going to move back to your parents? – dude its been 2 days I can hardly breathe right now, I don’t want to be smothered when I want to run the mountains and scream. Don’t make me think ahhhhhh.

If there’s anything I can do, let me know. So this is sweet, and everyone has good intentions, but when your eyes are glazed over, you’re pulling your hair out and your attempting to smother yourself with a blanket, the helper ideally needs to take the initiative, small gestures, I never expected anyone to come massage my feet, but support comes in many different ways, #JustLetMeSpoonYou

Sorry I didn’t contact you, I didn’t know what to say. I think you’re a wimp, I don’t sit at home crying 24/7, and I don’t expect you to know what to say, send me a funny picture if you can’t handle awkwardness, ill reply ‘lol’ you’ll feel better about yourself, and ill know my mind isn’t telling me the truth that it was actually me that died, it’s nice to exist.



Reading back though all that I actually feel like a selfish b**ch, but, that’s my mind now I guess!!


My Unhealthy Greif

I realise how I’m acting is unhealthy.  I threw myself into work as soon as possible after his death,  tried to hide my emotions and managed to push caring people away from me.

The way I cope isn’t uncommon,  but we all know it won’t lead down a nice road eventually.

I’m waiting patiently for a councilor to contact me after I managed to reach out for help,  I don’t know how long the wait takes,  and I don’t know what help it will bring,  but I’m looking forward to talking to someone who will truly listen.

I’ve never been a big drinker, so I guess that’s the first major unhealthy change;  I drink almost daily, whether it’s alone or out with company.

However the public drinking brings issues for me,  if I’m out I’m promiscuous, I want to be wanted,  and boy have I done a good job at it, kissing and teasing my way though my city. But all I really want is to take someone home, just to hold me.

24/7 I want to look perfect,  and not achieving that makes me feel anxious and socially unacceptable.

I didn’t eat for a long time,  and when I started to again I only ate take away,  which unfortunately for my purse is still the case.

I’ve smoked more than in my whole life,  purely because it gives me something to occupy my hands with and I don’t seem to care about the health risks.

I’ve done hard drugs and partied the nights away, and taken drugs to make me feel numb.

I, without realising, tried to break up my Mans best friend and his girlfriend,  purely so I could have more attention and grieve with someone close.

I did something that no one around me knows, which I hope they never find out,  but something that made me feel more wanted than I have done recently than any of the other men have made me feel.  I found myself an older man.  With him I know there is no future or long-term ‘thing’ (the age gap etc etc)  he understands my loss,  although I never knew him before,  he brings me gifts and wants to see me for company which is something none of the younger men would want, a percentage of my missing self seems more aware now.

I’m on anti-anxiety medication now,  and this has helped a lot with these feelings,  but I wonder why a doctor would place someone who they know is struggling, onto something that makes them feel worse until they settle into their system. I felt disorientation and a lack of energy for weeks,  depressed and I self harmed.  One thing I learnt from it though is that putting a hot clipper lighter onto your skin burns nicely into his initial. Messed up I know.

Luckily I’m over that stage and I’m plodding along with my resting bitch face.


The earring.

We all find attachments to things that we can’t explain, that bring us peace knowing their safe.

I’ve never worn my engagement ring everyday, even before he passed,  I always worried it would get damaged in work or lost,  but I know it’s kept safe in our home when not on my finger.

I’ve taken to wearing it on my right hand now,  because when I wear it occasionally I’m asked when the wedding is,  or about him,  and sometimes I tell the truth, madly I think it’s  so I can see their look of shock. But I’ve started a new job now (same company but a lower position,)  management know my situation and reason for changing positions, however I don’t want one of the first impressions staff get of me to be “oh better not upset her then”, or use it as an excuse for me talking sternly at them for not doing their job correctly.

I don’t want my loss to be who I’ve become.

So the earring, the earring was a weird thing for me,  I had an emotional attachment to it,  but in a bad way,  I couldn’t bring myself to take it off myself, and hoped one day soon it would be gone,  because like a scar I saw it daily and remembered the moment my friend (would have been sister-in-law,) attached it to me.

I want to write about what happened, because it feels cathartic,  and I’ve struggled to find someone to connect to through all my googling and outings, so possibly someone else may find relief in hearing the random ways they are coping isn’t madness.  However,  I struggle to talk to people face to face because I’m so matter of fact about it all.  So I can’t bring myself to go into full details,  because I don’t want people who know me to go,  oh, I know this girl.

Let’s just say though,  he died very suddenly of sudden adult death syndrome. It was so sudden in fact that he’d spoken to a friend briefly before his death,  telling them he was happy and excited as he had a big day ahead of him, there were no signs seen.

I was away when he passed and arrived back just as the police said they were ready for me to go to the hospital, with his younger siblings to Identify his body.

After having a breakdown in the little room they had placed him in,  the police woman tried to get me to leave,  I wandered back in and took the earring off him,  a small black hoop.  Thinking it was some type of connection to him,  the sister transferred it straight into my ear.

After 5 months it fell out. It was after a night out I realised,  and a smile crossed over me. I can only assume it came out whilst I sat on a wall kissing some skinny long-haired student in-between sharing bites of his burger at 4am.

This small thing that reminded me daily of needing to hold myself together on the journey,  the unknowing and then seeing him peacefully lying there wrapped in purple, associated itself with so much hurt for me.

I feel a step closer to normality with it gone. But wonder if I’d purposefully put pressure on this item,  told myself it was a bad thing, and now I’ll press those memories onto some new object.