The magic of dreams

Such a bittersweet feeling waking up and remembering that I dreamt about my mum.

Christmas as we've never known it

When the gingerbread house is falling apart.
And the plastic Christmas tree gets assembled with the middle piece at the bottom.
And the Christmas tree lights all get tangled up.
And you're looking for the recipe for the Christmas ham, but there is none because that's what your mum used to do.

That's when you know the entire world is telling you that it's all different now. And no matter what you do Christmas won't be Christmas this year. So it doesn't really matter what you do. We can pretend all we want. It just isn't Christmas when one of the most important ingredients is missing: the whole family together.

I keep asking myself, why isn't she coming home soon?

One month

One month ago, at this time, I was messaging a dear friend of mine. I was telling him that we'd made it through another day. I remember feeling slightly hopeful. Earlier that morning it felt like we were running out of time. In the evening, as we were saying good night she looked ever so slightly stronger. I thought to myself "wow, we're getting a few more days." We didn't.

Tomorrow it's one month since I last looked into her eyes. One month. I want time to stop. I don't want to get further away from her.

My mum's choice

Death is nothing at all
I have only slipped away into the next room
I am I and you are you
Whatever we were to each other
That we are still
Call me by my own familiar name
Speak to me in the easy way you always used
Put no difference into your tone
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow
Laugh as we always laughed
At the little jokes we always enjoyed together
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was
Let it be spoken without effort
Without the ghost of a shadow in it
Life means all that it ever was
There is absolute unbroken continuity
What is death but a negligible accident?
Why should I be out of mind
Because I am out of sight?
I am waiting for you for an interval
Somewhere very near
Just around the corner
All is well.
Nothing is past; nothing is lost
One brief moment and all will be as it was before
How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again!

My mum chose this poem to have read at her funeral. I am trying very hard to honour those words because I know it's what she wanted. It would have pained her so much to know that she would miss it all. But I think what she as most afraid of was how we would deal. That's who she was. Always thinking about us first. And I know that she was worried. And scared. She was the heart of the family. And now we have to do it on our own. 

I just really wish I could talk to her.  

The power of a hug

I just re-read a blog post from the 22nd of October. I wrote how I went to see my parents and that my mum and I stood and held each other for a long time. I wrote "she's here, I have to remind myself of that. I can hug her whenever I want to, and that means everything."

It did mean everything. My mum's last words to me were "hug you", in Swedish obviously. And I did. I hugged her long and hard.

I'd do anything for another hug from her.

3 weeks

An hour and a half phone conversation with a colleague turned good friend, about everything from work and funerals to golf and knitting.

Makes the three week mark go by slightly easier.

Where are you?

I miss my mum.

Yesterday I kept thinking I needed to check with her which dress to wear since I couldn't make up my mind. But then I realised it was for her funeral I was getting ready and that I never can ask her for help in choosing what to wear again.

It's the little things...

I miss you so much.

Thoughts

Carry on my wayward son
There'll be peace when you are done
Lay your weary head to rest
Don't you cry no more

Once I rose above the noise and confusion
Just to get a glimpse beyond this illusion
I was soaring ever higher
But I flew too high

Though my eyes could see I still was a blind man
Though my mind could think I still was a mad man
I hear the voices when I'm dreaming
I can hear them say

Carry on my wayward son
There'll be peace when you are done
Lay your weary head to rest
Don't you cry no more

Masquerading as a man with a reason
My charade is the event of the season
And if I claim to be a wise man, well
It surely means that I don't know

On a stormy sea of moving emotion
Tossed about, I'm like a ship on the ocean
I set a course for winds of fortune
But I hear the voices say

No!

Carry on, you will always remember
Carry on, nothing equals the splendor
Now your life's no longer empty
Surely heaven waits for you

Carry on my wayward son
There'll be peace when you are done
Lay your weary head to rest
Don't you cry, don’t you cry no more… no more

Kansas, along with supernatural are keeping me company this afternoon.

Mamma

I've never had a more surreal feeling in my life. How can you be dead? I just don't understand. Where are you?

Mamma

I live in a world where my mum no longer is.

I've never felt this empty.

The world is colourless

The realisation when you see relatives saying good bye to your mum as if it's the last time.

And when you start doubting whether going away with work for two nights next week is such a good idea because you don't know how much time there's left.

It makes everything else around you fade away.

Hate

I hate that I get a feeling of panic whenever I see my dad's or my mum's name appear on the display on my phone. My breathing stops for just half a second before I pull myself together and attempt to not make my feelings travel across the line. It's even worse when I see that I have a missed call from one of them. The number of thougts that go through my head before I call them back. I hate it.

And I hate that I am reluctant to answer when they call because I don't want to talk to them if it's bad news. If my mum is having a bad day. I don't want to know. I'd much rather run. Or pretend I'm in a meeting and therefore can't answer the phone. Just to allow myself a few more minutes or even an hour in a world without knowing the bad news I'm expecting to get. And I hate that I much rather go home to my flat and be on my own than going home to help my dad. Because one of the reasons I moved home was so that I could be here. For both of them. But I am so so so jealous of my brother who lives far away to not be the to go to person. But close enough to be able to come home at weekends. And I hate myself for being jealous of him. 

And I hate that some people when they look at me have this sad look in their eyes. As if I'm going to break at any moment. And I hate people who ask how I'm doing because how the hell am I meant to answer that question? And I hate when people who know my mum ask me how she's doing because I know that most of them are just curious and don't actually want to know because if they knew they wouldn't be asking in the first place. 

But most of all I hate this stupid cancer. I hate it so much. I hate it with every bone in my body. I am so angry that something can just come in and take over a body and slowly kill it. And I hate that there's nothing we can do. How can mankind be so developed in so many ways, but not be able to do anything about my mum dying? I want to shout and scream and kick and hit and fall apart. I hate feeling this helpless. 

And I hate that my mum is being taken away from me. She is being taken away from her potential would be grandchildren who don't yet exist. She is being taken away from my dad, and I don't know how he'll be able to live on his own. And that terrifies me. She is being taken away from this world. And I think that is what I hate the most. That my mum is being taken away from me, and everyone else in this world. 

The importance of people

I walked into the hospital and heard someone call my name. I didn't really pay attention because I assumed they didn't mean me. But it turned out to be one of my mum's brothers and my cousin. So we went up together to my mum's room. We sit there and chat. And my dad turns up. And after a while my dad's brother and wife appears. And we go to the common room and have coffee. And chat. And laugh. And my mum brings out some chocolate that a dear friend to her had brought her earlier in the day when she visited. And as we were sitting there and talking about how my mum's manager is coming to take her out for lunch in town tomorrow I was once again reminded of how loved my mum is. How loved we all are. And it gave me some peace. We are not alone. And that is such a wonderful feeling.

Thoughts at night

Today I was reminded of why moving home was the best decision I've ever made. Seeing my brother and my mum say good bye before we took him to the train station made me so happy that I could just say "we'll speak and see each other in the week". To be so close is painful. And tiring. And sometimes feels unfair and heavy. There's no escaping what's happening. But I'm here. I get to see my parents whenever I want to. I can go and hug my mum at any time. I can help my dad ease the burden. I can be there and tell stories from the outside world and in that way maybe make them forget, if even just for a millisecond.

It's scary to be so close and see what is happening. It feels like last week everything changed. Last week we hit the point of no return. The point we all knew was coming. But never could be prepared for. Now we're starting to talk about things I don't want to discuss. Like how beautiful the cemetery is. And different options. Options. Such a stupid word to use for this. We don't have any options.

And in all of this everyone's lifes goes on. Which is the sickest thing of it all. I may go to work. I laugh at jokes. I go to my meetings. I go to the gym. I see friends. But I'm not really doing any of these things. It's like I'm on auto pilot. My body knows what to do.

So while my brain is trying to catch up and understand how the hell we ended up here I spend my nights listening to music and watching candles burn. And taking sleeping pills. In the hope of actually getting some sleep. But I'm too afraid to take too many so don't think they do much good.

I miss my old life. So so so much. I know I've said it before. But I want to wake up from this nightmare. Please. Just let me wake up.

A fool's hope

I was going to write about how everything is heading in the wrong direction. How quickly things change. But also how slow and cruel the process is. I don't wish that my mum would die. I wish that she would live a long, healthy life and grow to be 100 years old. Be part of that new generation that lives so long that they're a burden for society for so many years that we will complain about her and wonder how on earth will my generation be able to pay for her retirement. I would love for that to happen.

But that's not going to happen. And I am slowly, and against my will, starting to realise that. I almost wrote come to terms with. But that would be the biggest lie of my life. I will never come to terms with that. Realisations is hard enough. I don't want to realise that.

Instead of getting to live until she's 100, she is being put through hell by her own body. It's attacking her from the inside. And it's absolutely horrible to watch. And terrifying. One of the strongest people I know is fighthing for her life. And they've told us it's a hopeless fight.

I'm starting to think we have less time than I want to think about. A world without my mum? Impossible. Surely.

They keep saying there's lots of research. And that advances are made every day. I am putting my faith in your hands. Even though I'm pretty much out of hope. What is it Gandalf said? "There was never much hope. Just a fool's hope."

A wonderful hug

I went to my parents today after work. It was good to see them. They've been away for almost a week to their house in Italy. You could tell my mum was tired from the journey. But she also seemed content in a way. I think it did her good to go there and spend some time in a place that she loves.

As I was about to leave we just stood and held each other. A very long, nice hug. I love her so much. She's my hero. And it was so good to just stand there and feel her being so close. She's still here. That's what I have to keep reminding myself. I can hug her whenever I want to. That means everything.

Broken

I am trying to remind myself that it's okay to not be strong. It's okay to fall apart.

I feel so broken. I'm worried what this will turn me into.

Just scratch the surface

I had a lovely weekend with a friend visiting from the UK. We spent two days wandering around Stockholm catching up. I escaped for a weekend. And today it's been back to reality. Whenever I've had a few days of almost forgetting it hurts coming back to reality. Everything is good for a few hours, or sometimes even for whole days. And then it hits you. That everything is not good. That everything is pretty much as far from good as is possible.

I used to be quite thick skinned. I used to be able to bury my feelings deep down and get on with my days. And if people asked me how I was doing it wouldn't feel like I lie. Because even if at that time I wasn't feeling very good, I tricked even myself. Everyone puts up some kinds of protective walls around themselves. That's how we cope with every day life. My walls are very thin right now. They're there. Because without them I wouldn't be able to get out of bed in the morning. But it only takes one question. Or one small comment. Or a news article. Or a song. Or a feeling. And the wall crumbles and all my emotions come splashing out. I am not very thick skinned at the moment. It's as if all you have to do is scratch the surface. And it's tiring. Extremely tiring, to always be so close to your emotions. And it's not like it's small emotions. It's giant, terrifying feelings of the unknown. Of pain. And loss. And fear. And loneliness. And confusion. And unreality.

I look at photos of my mum from a few years ago. And I think that that's the mum I want to remember. And just the fact that that's how I think now scares me. Because the idea of losing her. The idea of having to live in this world without my role model and hero makes my throat close up and I can't breathe. I can't comprehend how that world would look. And it terrifies that I will have to find out.

Getting help

Last week I went for counselling with a counsellor in the palliative team where my mum has her "home". It was good. Difficult. We've set up an appointment every two weeks. Which I think is necessary and needed.

She asked me what the most difficult thing is: thinking about what will happen in the coming stages and last stages of my mum's disease. Or thinking about having a life where she no longer exists.

I answered the second one. After a lot of thinking. Because I still can't get it through my head that these aren't hypothetical questions we're talking about. They're real. And happening right now.

But while I'm so scared about seeing my mum getting more and more ill and weaker and weaker. It is absolutely terrifying thinking about a world where she isn't just a text message or call away. How can that be? How can that world exist? And how can I exist in it? I don't know. But unfortunately, and this breaks my heart several times each day. Unfortunately I will find out.

Don't

You don't like it in the shadows
but you won't let me shine a light
I would wash away your troubles
But it seems
The more that I hold on
The more that you let go
And I know, you better let somebody love you
or find yourself, on your own

Tell me why all the best laid plans
fall apart in your hands
And my good intentions never end,
the way I meant

If we don't talk about the future
Then should I just, follow you into the dark
Yeah, and does your silence keep you cold
While the cracks form on my heart

Tell me why all the best laid plans
fall apart in your hands
And my good intentions never end,
the way I meant

It seems to me some fine friends have watched you turn your back
It seems you only want the things that you can't have.

Tell me why all the best laid plans
fall apart in your hands
And my good intentions never end,
the way I meant


I know unexpected things happen. I also know I am a plan freak. I like to plan things. I like to know what's going on and when things are happening. But I know things don't always go the way you plan. But usually that means you can't go on the trip you had hoped because you can't take time off work. Or it means you didn't get that job you applied for so you have to stay where you are. Or it means that you need to re-take a class because you failed.

I didn't know it included your mum getting terminal cancer at the age of 54. I hate not being in control. I'm not very good at it.



(The text is from a James Blunt song)

She's not the same

I miss my mum. I miss the person she was before she got ill. I miss going on speed walks in the forest with her. I miss going shopping for hours and hours with her. I miss playing golf with her. She was such an active person before this evil happened to her. Before her body got invaded by something hostile. She is the kind of person who loves going on long walks. She wants to hike up mountains. Instead she is being attacked by her own body. And it hurts so much to watch. Because while she in so many ways still is the same amazing, wonderful, strong mum that she's always been. She is also disappearing. The spark in her eyes are gone. The strength in her steps. My brother used to complain that my mum and I were walking too fast. Always long steps at a high pace, wherever we were going. Now we have all slowed down. And I miss her taking initiative. And doing things. I miss hearing her excited about something. I miss hearing her plan their dream trip to Nepal.



Why the hell is this happening to us????? I want to throw something. I want to scream. I want to yell at someone to stop doing this to us. I wish there was someone to blame. Someone I could beat the living crap out of for doing this to us. But there isn't. It's just this stupid fucked up world.

Out of loneliness

What would you say if I asked of you
- out of loneliness, out of loneliness
What would you say if I asked of you
- out of loneliness, out of loneliness
Could I be with you
Can I be with you

It's warm inside the night club
Your face is lit up by a disco light
I don't want to go home alone, not tonight
I have a picture of a man who used to sit in that chair
I will go anywhere
Just as long as I'm with someone
You will do, just take me home for tea

If I told you my stories and sang you my songs
Would you laugh at me
Would you pity me
What would you say if I asked of you
Not out of accident, out of loneliness
Would you shelter me
Will you shelter me

I will be gone when you wake up
No awkward breakfasts, I swear
And don't you look for me, because I could be anywhere
In someone else's house
In someone else's arms
With someone else to warm the pain away

What can I ask of you
What would you want from me
What would you say if I just fell asleep






Hello Saferide always calms the soul.

-

I'm scared.
And angry.

But mostly scared.

Quietness

Once in a while it comes. The noise dies down. Your heart rate slows. And all around you is quiet, and calm, and serene. It's like you enter a bubble where nothing can get to you.

I've created that.bubble. A bubble that exists of me, my flat, and boxes. That's my world right now. And as long as I pretend that's all there is everything is okay.

We're not okay

I hope my smile can distract you
I hope my fists can fight for two
So it never has to show
And you’ll never know

I hope my love can blind you
I hope my arms can bind you
So you’ll never have to see
What we’ve grown to be

One may think we’re alright
But we need pills to sleep at night
We need lies to make it through the day
We’re not okay

One may think we're alright
But we need pills to sleep at night
We need lies to make it through the day
We're not okay

One may think we’re doing fine
But if I had to lay it on the line
We’re losing ground with every passing day
We’re not okay

But that’s one thing I would never
One thing I would never
One thing I would never say to you
That’s one thing I would never
One thing I would never
That's one thing I would never say to you


The Perishers

I don't know how to be

We'll do it all
Everything
On our own

We don't need
Anyone
Or anything

If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me
And just forget the world?

I don't quite know
How to say
How I feel

Those three words
Are said too much
They're not enough

If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me
And just forget the world?

Forget what we're told
Before we get too old
Show me a garden
That's bursting into life

Let's waste time
Chasing cars
Around our heads

I need your grace
To remind me
To find my own

If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me
And just forget the world?

Forget what we're told
Before we get too old
Show me a garden
That's bursting into life

All that I am
All that I ever was
Is here in your perfect eyes

They're all I can see

I don't know where
Confused about how as well
Just know that these things
Will never change for us at all

If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me
And just forget the world?

At work

I'm trying to work. Doing my best to disappear into one task after Another. But three words keep echoing in my mind.




Ending all treatments.






How the hell am I meant to handle this?

-

Doing everything to keep my mind occupied. I do not want to fall apart. I don't have the strength to. I'm so tired. But the thought of sleeping terrifies me because of the nightmares I am likely to have.

How do you function when you've been told that there is no hope for your mother? When you know that from now on the cancer will only grow, and spread?

I keep telling myself this is happening. I keep trying to understand. But I don't. It's been one year and three months. And I still don't understand it. I don't believe this is happening to us. Because it can't be. It just can't be.

We're at that point

They are stopping all treatments. They are just making her feel bad without actually doing anything. I didn't think we'd get to this point today. I don't think anyone of us did. She's been having good weeks lately. So while I think we weren't expecting good news. We weren't expecting this.

My mum said: "So now we just have to wait."
My response was: "No mum. Now we have to live."

They kept telling us that one day we would get to this point. I just couldn't quite believe that we would.

Ten years

Today, ten years ago, a close friend of mine passed away from a benign brain tumor. That was when I learned that 'benign' did not mean 'nothing to worry about'. It's also the first time I understood what tumors entailed. And it was when a darkness I had never known before entered my life. I still carry so many scars from that day, and the months that followed. But I've fought hard to stop them from being open wounds. The 15th of every month used to be a struggle. Today I feel more sad than dark. I wonder what kind of an amazing woman she would have been. I miss you Effie. I carry you with me everywhere. And don't think for a minute that I've forgotten about you.

Tomorrow we're going to the hospital for my mum's regular three month check up. We see the oncologist and he gives us a status report. I don't think any of us are expecting to hear anything but bad news. Life is a struggle. And it doesn't get easier. It's always terrifying going for these checks. After, no matter what the news, we can relax and push on for another three months. It means we've survived another three months and are ready for the next ones.

I'm sleeping in my room at my parents house. I need the comfort of being close. Being home. I love my flat. But on nights like these there's no other place I can be.

Ten years. And I'm back in the hell I was in then. It's strange though. This time it's so much closer. But I'm not as dark. But trust me. It's a constant battle to not go down that road and embrace the dark that was my best friend for so long.

Remember to breathe

I've been so busy lately with getting my apartment sorted that I haven't had much time to think. Which in a way is very good. And has been quite nice. But it's still around me. And I don't really know how to feel. Lately I've been feeling guilty because I've been almost happy over the last weeks. Saw my English friends for a week in Italy. Followed by moving. So much happiness and joy. I've barely thought about cancer. And death. And darkness. So instead I've been feeling guilty. Which I know is crazy. Because of course I'm allowed some happiness. So whenever I've been feeling guilty I've pushed it away. Tried to shake it off. It generally works. But I also have to remember to let myself feel. To remember to breathe. It's okay to feel. It's okay to fall apart. And it's okay to have moments of joy.

My own refuge

Yesterday I oficially moved into my own flat. My little piece of heaven. Which so far is pretty empty. But it has the essentials. A bed. A sofa. Working wifi. Small dining table. Couple of chairs. Close to work. And best of all? It's all mine, and only mine. And my landlords. But that's not important. Currently, it's mine. And I love it. I feel like I can breathe again.

I lived at my parents house for just over a year. I can't belive it's been that much time. Most of my stuff is still there. Moving a little bit each day now. And it will be home for a long time still. But now this is home too. Which is great. And lovely. And amazing. And so so needed. I need a place where I can fall apart. Where I can be happy. Where I can feel all my emotions out in the open. A place that isn't tainted by disease. I make my parents house seem horrible. It isn't. It's my favourite place in the whole world. But so is this. And it will just get better and better as I keep putting my mark on it.

Airports

I have a love hate relationship to airports. I've spent so much time at them that they, along with flying, became a necessary evil. A way to go from one home to the other. Since we can't apparate or teleport we're left with aeroplanes.

But I also absolutely love airports. They're filled with so many emotions. People are excited. Heading out for an adventure. A well needed break. But people are also crying while saying good bye. I've done my own share of crying at airports.

Today I feel like I belong to.both othergroups. Filled with excitement and joy I'm waiting to board my flight to Rome to meet up with the best of the best. My people. They flew from London last night and are waiting for me. But it's also incredibly sad that I'm going and that my parents never got the chance this summer. It's their house. They deserve to go. To get away from the nightmare that our daily life has turned into.

But I'm going. And it will be wonderful. I'm so excited and when I think about the people waiting for me a large grin spreads across my face. An entire week. With my people. Away from reports. And organizational changes. And population forecasts. And eu grant applications. And most of all. A week away from cancer.

Sounds like heaven.

Things you don't think about

I went to a colleagues surprise leaving party tonight. It was lovely and lots of fun. Since I work at the same place as my mum, and we share the same colleagues this man is obviously her colleague to. I know it broke her heart slightly not being able to have been there. They had their offices next to each other and were very close. Throughout the evening I found myself thinking that she should be there instead of me. Something else I realised, which makes me incredibly sad, is that my mum won't get a leaving party. She is not coming back to work. She is terminally ill. But you don't throw a leaving party for someone who has left due to illness. That would be morbid and very odd. But it's sad. She won't get the speeches. The appreciation. The 'we will miss you'. I've never thought about that before. But today it hit me, and I almost had to walk out in the middle of a speech because I almost lost it. I didn't. But I'm doing it now instead.

She's not getting a leaving party. And that hurts more than I ever thought was possible.

Tears in my eyes

Some days are harder than others. Some evenings are more difficult than others. For no apparent reason. I mean, obviously there's a reason. I'm living with this constant dark cloud not so much on the horizon as looming right next to me. And while I've lived with darkness before I've never experienced anything like this. How could I have. But that means that some days, for no specific reason, are harder than others. Because no human being can live with this constant darkness in their life and not be effected by it. It's difficult. It's painful. And it's horrible. Everything else fades away in comparison.

Some evenings are just harder than others..

Pretending

Lying in bed having long conversations with myself. Can't sleep. I'm going through what I need to get done at work tomorrow. I'm planning what we're doing in two weeks when I'm going on holiday. I'm reenacting conversations with other people from a life time ago. Thinking about Malta. What the kids I worked with in Ecuador are doing now, seven years later. Going through every hole on the golf course and where I'd want my tee shots to go.

Thinking about anything.

Except the words I were told today.
"It has spread to more organs."
There's not much untouched left.

That person

Some people don't even have to be there in order to make a difference. Just by being who they are, wherever they are, they are special. That's the people you should hang on to. I have a few people like that. Whom are all further away than I'd like. But they still make me smile. Even without doing anything. I will see you soon. Two weeks and three days to be exact.

I hope you know how much I love you.

Face on

On days like today it is difficult to pretend everything is fine. When you see your mum struggling with every movement she has to make When she's cuddled up in blankets and still shivering because she's so cold. When she can barely keep her eyes open because the medication and the disease are making her so tired.

On days like these it hurts to watch her. It's hard to be around her. But that's when you know that you have to be. Because no way is she going through this alone. No matter how painful it is to watch. And no matter how much you want to just run away and hide somewhere far far away.

We're in this nightmare together. And I am so so scared. But I will not turn away.

Light

It's been a long time since I was in Sweden for an entire summer. So far I'm really loving it. It's so easy to think that it gets so light in the evenings in England. And think that the sun sets so late. But then you're in Sweden. And when you go to bed at 11pm it's bright outside. And when you wake up at 6am for work the sun has already been up two hours.

Growing up I didn't think this was anything special. Now, after so many years away, I am amazed every morning and every evening. I'd forgotten how beautiful and mesmerising this country can be.

Proud

I've read my blog. Started from the very beginning, which was spring 2010. And I've just read through the academic year of 2010/11. That was a difficult year for me. So much happened that year that I still struggle to understand. There's still so much pain and confusion lingering from that year. And reading those old blog entries I am reminded of how far I've come. I'm reminded of how dark I used to be. How dark the world seemed. And how lonely I was. One of the best things I've done in my life, and one of my proudest moments, was when I realised that it wasn't normal to feel like that and I went to get help. I started seeing Pat. And we talked. Mostly I talked. And I learned so much about myself. How I function. Some of those realisations have been with me this year. And I still ask myself sometimes "what would Pat say?" Because I have been terrified of falling back down. I have fought so hard to get this far. To not see the world in shades of black. I used to balance on the edge every minute of every day. And in the evenings I would curl up on the floor in my room and fall head first into a bottomless pit. I had to fight to get up. And after I did life became, not a dance on rainbows, but it became good. Summer of 2011 changed me. And returning to Nottingham in September 2011 I wasn't the same person. And that year. September 2011 to September 2012. There are no words for it. Best year ever. And I still had dark moments. But they were few. And when they came there were people there. People I could message. People I could see. People to hang out with and do random stuff with. Today those are my closest friends. I hope you know how special you are.

It is also because of you I have managed to stay afloat this year. I thought I would fall back into that darkness. But I am proud of myself. Because while life is difficult. More difficult now than ever before. It's not like that. It's not darkness and cold and loneliness.

I've come a long way. And it's good to be reminded of that. I am proud of myself. And I think Pat would be too.

1 year

It was midsummer last week. A big holiday in Sweden. People celebrate the longest day of the year. It's one of the happiest celebrations in Sweden. It's like a reward for having survived another dark and long winter. I know a lot of people can't understand, and probably couldn't stand, the winters here. The sun barely rising. Darkness everywhere. But then we have summer. And trust me, it's worth it. Evening when the sun barely sets at all and you can sit outside until early morning. I remember when I worked at McDonalds. I was working the closing shift and we had a really busy night so we ended up not getting out of there until around 3 am. I remember cycling home. The sun having just risen and the birds singing in the trees. It was such a surreal feeling. It was amazing. I love midsummers.

Or at least I used to. This year midsummers eve (last Friday) marked 1 year since our lives took an evil twist. I tried not to think about it but was reminded by kind people who only meant well. But the last thing I wanted to hear was "so, it's been a year now..." A year ago we didn't think we'd be here. Everything was so dark and we had no hope what so ever. I wouldn't say that we have hope now. But we've had a year. Which means that we could have another year. And another one after that. And many more after that. But hope? I don't dare to hope. One day at a time. I know I've said those words before. But I don't think I've truly understood their meaning until now. One day at a time. Currently they're bad days. For her. Which means they're bad for all of us.

1st of September I move to my own place. I will have a sanctuary to escape to. Where I can close the door on cancer. Leave it outside. Even though I know it will follow me around forever.

It's been the worst year in my life. But in a way it's been a good year. It's been a great year. Because she's still here.

Things that matter

Late night messaging with a dear friend.
A loving aunt calling asking to play golf.
Neighbours checking up on me.

Things that make me feel less alone.
It's good to be reminded that while I sometimes feel very lonely in all of this. I know I'm not. I know you're all out there.

So I am now off to spend four-five hours with the best of the best. With two people who love me unconditionally. Two people who, I know, would do anything for me. Two people who have known me my whole life. Two people who vowed to take care of me if something were to happen to my own parents. They truly have stepped up.

Sunshine. Golf. Aunt. Uncle. Aka godparents. It's turning out to be a good Saturday.

Facing what's to come, kind of

My mum and I have had a projekt all spring. We planted seeds in Match. And now we have beautiful plants all over the verandah. I love just sitting looking at them. They have become my babies. It's as if we're desperate to watch something living grow. It's peaceful and almost healing. To see that there is still life that can grow in this world.

I've been sitting among those plants today reading. I was looking through our book cases for something to read and my eyes stopped on a book my Kristian Gidlund. He was a Swedish journalist who was diagnosed with stomach cancer in the spring of 2011. He then started a blog to write about his internal war. Last summer his blog was published in a book. Just a short while later he passed away. He lived just over two years after he was diagnosed. I haven't had the strength or the courage to read his book. My mum bought it late last summer. And for a long time it was just lying in our living room. No one daring to open it. No one wanting to know what was inside. My mum has read it. Don't know if anyone else in my family has.

I started reading it today. Because if it's anytime that I will read it, it's when my parents aren't here. And if there's any place I should read it, it's here. In this house. On this verandah. Where I am at my safest. At a time and place where it's okay to fall apart.

I think this is something I need to do.

Putting up a shield

On the outside I might seem fine. I plan holidays. I laugh. I joke. I go to work. I go to bed in the evening. And I wake up in the morning. And most days I don't mention the darkness. Most days people who don't look properly wouldn't know.

But inside. I might be talking to you like nothing's changed. I might seem like the same person I was a year ago. But inside. Inside I am falling apart. I am angry. I am sad. I am furious. I am so pissed off I don't know what to do with myself. I am so angry with the world I don't know what to say. Or how to formulate myself. What kind of world do we live in? There is no rhyme or reason for anything. Nothing makes any sense. And everything. Everything, is unfair and unjust.

But I keep it inside. Because I don't know what else to do. If I was to let it out. If I was going to show you. Then I don't know if there's any way back. So instead I put up a shield. I wrap myself in this blanket of denial. And I live my life in a world where I pretend that everything is fine. I pretend that the actual reason why I'm back in Sweden isn't that my mum is dying.

In three weeks it's been one year. I can't believe we've lived with this for a year. I don't want to do this anymore. I don't want to. I want to wake up from this ridiculous nightmare. This joke someone is playing on us. Please just let me wake up.

I haven't let myself fall apart like this in a very long time.

I might look okay on the outside. But I feel like a shell of my former self.
I'm scared the world will never be colourful again.