Help

I want to scream. I want to rip myself a part. I want to tear out my hair. I feel like a million pieces. and I wish I looked the part.

I want to tell everyone to fuck off. Because no one understands. I want to tell everyone to shut the hell up. Because their petty lives don't matter. And I know that's not fair. But I don't give a fuck. I want everyone to leave me alone.

But I'd also want just one person, just one, to look at me and say "I know you're a mess. I know the smiles and the laughter is just pretend. I know."

I don't know how to deal with all of this. Mamma, I need you. Why aren't you here to help me through this?

Open wounds bleed easily

The shock when you open the local newspaper and see a photo of yourself and your dead mum.
Not a great feeling....

Another month

And just like that another month as passed and once again I lie in bed going through every moment of that last day I had with my mum. How, exactly four months ago, almost to the minute, she said her last words to me.

A colleague said to me the other day: "you look good. Can you feel life returning?" I didn't know what to say. It will never "return". It has changed for forever. Return means going back to how it was. It never will.

Break

I'm thinking of taking a break from people. Especially people in social media. People are pissing me off. Either too happy. Or acting as if the world is about to end because of some ridiculous thing.

For everyone's sake, I think I should take a break from it all. Just wish I also could take a break from life. Escape. Just for a while.

Take me away from this place

Sometimes I think I'd be better off if I just packed my bags. Bought a plane ticket. And got the hell out if here. Anywhere.

Chaos

I had a melt down at work today. I just had enough of people behaving like children (despite being substantially older than me). and just being random idiots. And it all just became too much. No one is giving me any information concerning if my job will be extended or not. They just keep being vague and non-commitall. I wish they'd just tell me. And they act as if the whole world is going under because of a birthday party for one of the councillors that got out to the local media and had to be decreased in size. I just sat in my office and stared at my computer screen and felt the tears coming. The one person who would understand the craziness of work is not here. I can't tell her.

Because she is dead. The one person who I want to tell. Who I tell everything to.

Told everything to.

This whole talking in past tense thing. I don't like it. Actually, I hate it.

There's chaos everywhere. But most of all inside of me. Chaos. And emptiness. It's like I told a colleague today. Everything would be so much easier to handle if I wasn't also carrying around this giant dark hole inside of me. It's like everything has a new dimension added to it which makes it all so much harder.

I'm fed up. And angry. I am so freakin angry.

Happy birthday dad

I've made it through the day. Just about. Growing up it'd be my brother or me that wasn't around for my dad's birthday. Or my mum's for that matter. But they were always together. One more battle has been fought today. Many more will come. Small and large. Yesterday many battles were fought too. First fika outside, without my mum. Premiere at the golf club, without my mum. Getting the garden spring ready, without my mum. And then today. My dad's birthday, without my mum. It's been an incredibly difficult day where I've thought of her almost constantly. I've walked around at work with tears in my eyes almost all day. And I've cried my heart out at home. I miss her so so much. Those words don't make my feelings justice. Every time I think the words "she is dead" I get the wind knocked out of me yet again. It's still such a shock to hear those words in my head. She's not dead. She'll be home soon.

Oh I wish that was true..... Because life like this isn't much fun.

I'm dreading my own birthday in four short weeks. Can we just skip it?

The first birthday

So this weekend we're celebrating the first birthday of someone in the family since mum died. It's my dad's birthday on Monday and we're celebrating today. I have no idea if it will be difficult or not. All I know is that I miss her, and my dad does too.

One of many firsts to come this year...

On a different note I've taken up running again. Started a training program on Runkeeper. So this morning at 9.15 I went for a 5km run. I am so proud of myself. It's good to have something to focus on. And with a couple of goals ahead. Doing the race for life on 1st of May in my home town. A run where all proceeds go to cancer research. Last year my brother and I ran, and my parents walked. It was such a huge victory for my mum to walk the 5km since she hadn't been doing well the weeks leading up to it. She was so proud of herself, and we of her. So I will be running for my mum. And everyone else stuck in a similar nightmare. And then in September it's the big goal. A 10km run in Stockholm. I've been toying the idea of setting up a page where people can sponsor me and all money go to cancer research as well... We'll see. Maybe as I get closer to the date I will do that. For now. I run. And it feels good.

And tomorrow the plan is to bring out the golf clubs from hibernation. Which also makes me excited.

So while it's painful. And most days are a struggle. There's also good things. Things to focus on. Things that make me smile. That's really all you can ask for.

Spring is coming

March. It's March. The month when we start to hope for spring and it's not just a distant thing anymore, it's actually in the air. It's the month of my dad's birthday. It's the month when you start getting the garden ready for the new season. It's the month of firsts. First coffee outside in the sunshine up against wall somewhere. First bike ride of the year. First run outside without risking to fall on ice. Hopefully the first golf session. All of the firsts that come every year over and over again. 

And this year it's the first spring without her. And it hurts like crazy. We've reached the time when people start to forget. Or at least stop asking. But while it hurt in the beginning, it's nothing compared to now. Now when it starts to sink in. She is gone. For ever. I will never again see my mum. I don't know what I believe, but at this stage to be honest I don't really care. I will not see her here, and that's all I can think about. I keep looking at her photo and it's like being punched in the stomach. I miss her so much. It's a constant pain. 

I would relive the last painful, slow days of my mum's life if it meant that I could see her again. I would do anything to see her again. I didn't know pain like this existed before.