After five years, it feels strange to come to this place, here, and talk about grief. About how it changes, and yet doesn’t. About how grief never leaves you, the great whistling hole through your centre never closes right over.
Grief is grief is grief.
Missing someone never quite stops. Things happen and I wish, I wonder, I want.
It’s been almost five years and I don’t have words anymore.
—
A series of events conspired to send me into a place mentally I haven’t been for a while. I feel raw, the bandaids torn off with no warning. I think about writing and stop. Turn away. Do something else.
Do you really want to write about that? Open yourself up for more judgement?
I don’t know.
I’m tired. I’m tired of feeling like I need to defend my life, my choices, my right to be here.
On Stateline last night, a family of acrobats twisted and twirled through the air, circus tricks and stunt work. They glossed over the fact that the house has no running water, limited solar power, there’s no money. Focus instead on the happiness, the family togetherness, the joy that living an honest life brings.
I watched and I laughed and laughed, feeling a kinship with a family I’ve never met.
How dare we be happy. How dare we choose a life outside of the suburban normal, nine to five, a salary and prospects of more debt to keep up with people we don’t like.
How very dare we.
—
I can see them, the unhappy people, hiding in the corners here, judging, waiting and watching like a dog waiting to be thrown a bone.
I’m disabled, I have to right to happiness. I ought to be miserable, a loser in the genetic lottery.
But really, I wonder, why does the life of one small Tasmanian family offend them so much?
—
It’s all tied to grief, to missing, to yearning. Someone came in and stomped around, tore down my walls; my defences. I need a thicker skin.
Maybe then I wouldn’t feel so sick when I think about writing about my life still.
want to read your words, want to know how others are coping with their grief coz that hole is dark and I’m frightened I’ll fall in it one day and no one will miss me. don’t judge yourself by their standards, who dismiss the value of a generation of perfectly-loved if imperfectly-made children. if we stretch our arms out wide we can be your second skin. xt
Perhaps it is that you come across yourself as judgemental as is your mother. Not a judgement just why I fail to understand how you could be surprised at the judgement aimed at you.
You are not your genetic condition and you are entitled to love life and happiness but your online demeanour presents otherwise. Please this is not criticism
*stretches arms out to make human-chain-second-skin with traceyb65* . You’re valued Veronica. The stampers and bullys are a sad fact of life, an infection we havent found a cure for yet that makes us sick and exhausted and vulnerable feeling. All we can do is feed our emotional immune system as much as possible and accept that from time to time the infection will floor us and leave us needing wrapping in a blanket with a hot comfort drink. You’ll get your strength back, just be gentle to yourself in the meantime and remember theres more of us “white cells” on your side out here than there are the viruses that shout so much louder in their rage at ultimately being on the losing side.
This is a beautiful comment Emma, it was lovely to read. Thank you
I miss your words. I think that the thief (and the groups of haters) is very unwell and has nothing else to do or think about.
Please write. This world needs your words.
I’ve been reading your words well before we met in 2011 in Sydney.
Take care of your health & welfare first though, V. You have a beautiful family who needs you more than anyone can ever know.
Denyse xx
I know it’s not much but I’m sending support and hugs from the US!
Idiots are idiots. If they weren’t judging you on your disability, it would be your gender, your age, your car, your politics, your religion…… etc. They don’t need a reason. All they need is a difference. They’re no different from 10 year old bullies in a school yard, and their opinions are about as considered! They got under your skin. Next time, they won’t. Just keep going forward and enjoy your family 🙂
Also, maybe next time you could delete their nasty comments immediately . This is not a public space where people have a right to offensive opinions! This is your space, for you (and us) to enjoy. Those kind of opinions are not just offensive to you, but to your readers also.
Since I started reading your blog, somewhat before Isaac was born, I have learned a great deal from you. I have been amazed and inspired by you and your courage, your humor, your ability to find joy and beauty even in the midst of AWFUL. Reading your blog has made me a better person. I would not have made some of the choices you have, also I would likely not have survived some of the things that have been thrown your way by life. If I could I would wrap my arms around you (GENTLY) till all the sadness and hurt melt away. What Tracyb65 and Emma and Denyse and Jaimie said.
But really, I wonder, why does the life of one small Tasmanian family offend them so much?
Because you’re happy, your family is happy, you are all getting on with life, while they probably aren’t. Perhaps they are jealous because you are managing, while they in their normality somehow find things too hard.
Comments on this entry are closed.