Bad day

When you have a break down because your tv channels aren't working and you've been calling the tv company pretty much every evening for three weeks. And you think it's such a ridiculous thing to have a break down about, such stupid third world problems.

But the years just won't stop running. And you've had such a crap day in general.

And you realise that the real reason you're crying is the feeling you manage to suppress and hide almost every day. Because after a bad day, the one thing you want to do is call your mum. And I am so so so angry that mine has been taken away from me. I hate the world every day for doing that to me and my family.

Silence

It's all so quiet. And all I want is to hear her voice. I'd give anything to hear it again.

Soon I won't be able to think "a year ago today she did this." Soon she will have been dead for a year. Dead.

I hate the world for having taken her away from me.

Please. Come home.

Next week it's one year since we were told there was no hope. Sure, we'd been told that since day 1. But on the 16th of September 2014 it became real. The doctor said the dreaded words: "I think it's time to stop all treatments. We've bought all the time we could." After that my mum said the words that broke my heart into a million pieces. "So now all we can do is wait." I will never forget my stupid, philosophical attempt at being positive: "No mum, now all we can do is live."

I do this thing when. I am absolutely obsessed with tv-shows. And I can re-watch some of my favourite shows over and over again. Sometimes in full. Sometimes I fast forward through the boring parts of various episodes. And then I can re-watch one scene several times. I just keep rewinding, and watch it again. To keep that moment alive just for a few seconds longer. I wish I could do that. I try to do that. Sometimes, when I'm lying on my sofa, or walking in the forest, I will re-live those days. Those months. The laughs and the tears, between the 16th of September and the 19th of November. Those two months are so unreal to me. So much happened. But at the same time everything was paused. There are certain moments during those two months that I wish I could re-live again, and again, and again. And it's not just the good parts. I want to have the bad ones too. I want all of it. The pain. The tears. The screams.

Because that would mean that I wouldn't walk around town searching for her face. It would mean that I wasn't desperate to hear her voice. It would mean that she'd be here.

I went to the cemetery today. And I cannot get it through my head that that is the place I go to visit my mum. It's soon been a year. But I just can't get used to it. So instead I beg. I beg for her to come home soon. Because I miss my mum. And my heart is shattered in a million pieces because she's not here. And I don't know how to live my life anymore. I need my mum. And please, please, please. come home soon.

A mess

Some days I feel like I've found my place, that this is a good place to be.
Other days I wonder what the hell I'm doing here.

Every day I wonder how my life could end up like this. How I became the girl with a dead mum.

Pretending

In an effort to pretend nothing has changed I switched on my previous phone and there it was. My last text conversations with my mum. I can hear her voice in my head. I want to wrap those words around me like a warm blanket. Two days ago it would have been her 56th birthday. It was also seven months to the day since she died. Yesterday it was two years since she was given her diagnosis. It's been a weekend of trying to suppress all emotions in an effort to survive. Self defense. But now. When the weekend is over. And the silence is catching up. Everything just hits me. And I don't know where to go. I can't believe that I will never ever ever see her again. Or talk to her. Or hug her. How can that be true?

It's always there

Some days it just hits you. Knocks the wind out of you. And it's happening all over again. You're sitting next to her bed holding her hand. You're telling her it's okay, that we'll be okay. And you watch as she stops breathing. And the world just goes quiet.

And then you realise it's actually been almost seven months. But it will never stop happening. And you curl up into a ball and let it all out. Because the pain and the longing and the frustration is just too much.

Time

Today I have lit candles all around my apartment. They are all burning for you my beloved mum. Six months have passed. And I need all the light in the world to keep me away from the dark.

Six months. Half a year.
Time is such a strange thing. It feels like it all happened yeterday. In a way I hope it always will feel like that. Like it was only yesterday that she was here. But it's been half a year. And time has crawled by at a ridiculously slow pace. Each individual day has felt like forever. But as a whole, the six months went by like a blink of an eye.

I wish you were here. I will never stop wishing that.

It's raining outside

I close my eyes and pretend everything is alright. Only, I can't because it's too painful. I pretend she's here, and that we're laughing and joking and living. But I find myself unable to breathe, and instead I open my eyes. Because it's too painful.

I feel like I have no one to talk to. I don't know who has the energy to listen to me. To hear me out. I want to throw something. I want to shout. I want to fall apart. I want to stop thinking. I want to stop being okay in front of people. I want to do something so they know it's not okay. So they know I am broken and bleeding and falling apart.

I want my life back they way it used to be. I don't know what to do with all this pain.

I feel like people are disappearing. But I think it's me that's pulling away. I don't know how to deal with this, so how can I expect others to stick around for it?

Talk

I hate that I'm starting to feel like I can't talk about my grief to people because it's now almost been five minutes. Not talking to the people close to me about it doesn't give them credit enough, nor help me. But it's just so difficult. So instead I sit on my own and fall apart.

I never knew it was possible to miss someone this much.

Seconds

The sharp pain in your chest when you close to hear your mother's voice in your head and it takes a couple of seconds before you can hear it.

It might just have been seconds. But it was seconds. And I'm scared that it will turn into more seconds until I can't hear you anymore.

I want to make more memories with you. We weren't done. And that is so unfair.

Pissed off

And there I stood. Not quite sure what to feel. I always thought I'd feel sad. But I just felt disappointed. And angry. So angry.

The worst part is that they still haven't been able to say it to me clearly. "We can't offer you more work." Instead they hide behind big words and excuses and pretend they're still looking into it. When it's obvious between the lines that the chances are zero for that to happen.

Hypocrisy. And extremely poor leadership.

Typical TCK

This is not how I thought my life would be. And I can't help but wonder. Should I go back?

I feel like I don't belong here. Maybe I should listen to that voice?

Confused...

I'm also right on time. Coming up on two years. I can feel the TCK gene pulling. I shouldn't be too surprised.

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.