Grief

It's been a relatively good week. I've generally been on good form, kept busy and felt like I could cope with my new, not asked for and definitely didn't want, life. Until today. Today feels like a heavy weight has been tied around my neck as I drag grief around with me.

The weather is wet, grey and windy and it's the 1st December. Christmas songs have started on the radio and I realise with a new wave of despair that the next month is going to be complete hell. Loneliness is going to close in on all sides... the type that cannot be compensated for by immersing oneself in friends and family. There is only one person that will mitigate the emptiness and yearning and they are no longer here - however hard I look for him or ask for signs, there is simply nothing left. I have never felt more alone.

Grief has so many more layers than I initially thought. There are so many emotions involved. I thought it was just being sad and crying a lot, but there's a lot more than that. Grief and guilt is a massive partnership that I hadn't appreciated or anticipated. I don't know whether it's the same for everyone but it's certainly that for me in that I feel guilty for so many things.

I feel guilty when I'm having fun and happy. I feel guilty when I'm not having fun and when I'm sad because I feel Oli wouldn't want that and I'm not honouring him in the right way. I feel guilty for being the one that survived and didn't get Cancer and the one that wasn't sick. And I feel guilty that I should have done more. That's the biggest one. Could the outcome have been different if I'd done more? If I'd insisted that we stayed at The Marsden instead of just going once for a second opinion? If I'd made Oli change is diet to one that claimed to change the course of the Cancer? If I'd really researched all the trials or gone to the States for treatment? If I'd looked into alternative medicines more? If I had just tried harder.... but the truth is that Oli didn't want any of that.. he just didn't want that at all. He just wanted to be normal. To live as normal life as possible. But maybe I should have pushed him. Maybe he'd still be here if I pushed him harder. I don't know. But there's that guilt. And that's huge. There is also the guilt of his final days. Did I do enough to make him comfortable, was I there for him enough? Did I do enough for him to know how much he was loved, how much I cared... I should have done more.

There's also another, very thin layer of emotion. And that's excitement. I know that sounds really bad and really wrong - there should be no level of excitement at all in grief. But there is a small amount there. This is not a situation that I am in by choice. If I had my way, Oli would be sitting right next to me right now and we would be laughing and joking and we would be planning our day and our week, our year and our lives. I am here through no choice of my own but since I'm here I do have an opportunity to look at what possible benefits this situation provides. I have a house, I have my limbs, I have my health and I have no dependants, so I have the opportunity to do whatever I want.... take my life in whatever direction I want. Go travelling where I want, for as long as I want. And that does come laced with excitement - whether I like it or not and I don't like it... it doesn't sit particularly well with me. But I would be doing Oli an injustice if I didn't make the best of this absolute shite situation. If I just sat here for the rest of my time feeling sorry for myself and wallowing in my circumstances, then it just makes this bad scenario even worse. Oli would have died for nothing and I don't really get that.

And then there's the spirituality side of it which is interesting. This is going to be difficult to explain so bear with me. Before Oli died, I didn't really get it when people talked about the universe being totally connected where everything works in unison with each other or with manifestations and all that bollocks but I'm starting to see it now. I can feel Oli everywhere. I now believe that our souls and are bodies are separate things. The body is a mechanical machine that breathes and pumps and grows and when it breaks it dies... but the soul is energy and energy doesn't dissapate so where does it go? What happens to the soul, what does it transfer into? I look for signs, with absolutely no success, although to be fair, I want to see dolphins dancing across the bay which is obviously totally unreasonable but I am starting to feel things being connected. I can feel Oli in the wind, I can feel him in the waves in the sea and I can see how that is all interconnected and I get it... I can't explain to you why but I do get it. He is part of the universe and of that energy. I just wish he'd make those bloody dolphins get a bit lively. That would be lovely to see!

All of the above was written first thing this morning. After which I got off my fat arse and went on a rowing machine for 20 mins (yes, it did nearly kill me). However, I do feel a lot better in myself now. Christ! Think how fit I'll be if every time I get sad I go on a rowing machine! Happy Days!!