It's only yesterday...

Not really sure what to write this evening but I feel as though I need to write. As time passes it doesn't get any easier. Expectations from others increases. It feels as though some people think I should be over this now. That I should be moving on now. That I should be able to return to a completely normal working routine as I had before. That I should be able to do easy tasks like get up in the morning and make it into work first thing because they can do it and because I managed it before Luke went. Or that I should be able to teach an entire day without any consequences to my own mental state and why would I need any time out? Everyone else manages to teach an entire day without needing a time out. So they think I should be able to do this too.

Some people think that I should be able to keep up with conversations because that's easy. They think I should be able to just get on with it. They think that I should be able to do something each day easily. They think I should be able to sleep normally. They think that I should be having more good days than bad days. They think I should be able to deal with this now. 'This'. My entire world has crashed around me and everything I was has been stripped away. I'm left with a suffocating pain and numbness and total loss. I'm left not knowing who I am or what I am supposed to do. I'm left knowing that I'll never see Luke ever again and it becomes hard to breathe at the thought and yet all of this is just described in an easy simple word, 'this'. Maybe that's why people don't get it. Because this horrific event has been tamed into a word that we can handle; this. As humans our brains are designed to protect us and I guess people thinking of 'this' is easier than facing what 'this' really is for me.

I'm fed up of people thinking I should be able to do things because then I start believing that I should be able to do them. Now this would be a perfectly fine thing to think...if I was actually capable of doing them!!!!!!! But instead I'm left with should should should. And when I can't, that's all I see. I see that I have failed again. I see that again I didn't manage the normal daily things, so what is the point in any of this at all? Again I didn't achieve what I 'should' be able to do and I'm met with judgmental opinions from people that have no fucking idea what 'this' is really like.

On a positive note though, there are some amazing people who have been an absolute rock and an amazing support. They know who they are! :)  I've been chatting to a very helpful lady and she explained that 'should' is an awful word to use when someone is grieving. It's a word that I am not supposed to use anymore for myself. The only thing I can do is to listen to what my mind and body is telling me I need. And when I manage to do something I need to recognise that as an achievement. Even if all I do is get out of bed and sit on the sofa all day. I have achieved getting out of bed. Which to be fair in the first few weeks I probably did see as an achievement but then time moved on, so did everyone else and I allowed their opinions to cloud my reality. Because to them, my life should now be back to normal because theirs is. But I no longer see getting out of bed as an achievement because I 'should' be doing more by now.

But to me, it's as though it was only yesterday that I was told Luke had come off his motorbike and that he has been pronounced dead at the scene. To me it's only yesterday that I was driving around frantically trying to find out which hospital Luke had been taken to. It was only yesterday that I was phoning as many people as I could to find out where they were taking Luke and whether he was ok. It was only yesterday that I sat in that Chapel, waiting. Waiting for someone to tell me it was all just a joke. That there had been a mistake. I waited a very long time. I waited Luke but there was no mistake.

It was only yesterday that I would discover that Luke wasn't going to be taken anywhere; that I couldn't go and see him. To me it was only yesterday that I was told that the man I love more than I can describe, the man I was going to marry would never again be coming home. He would never take another breath or say my name. To me it's only yesterday. So forgive me if all I achieve is getting out of bed and choosing to start another fucking shit ass day without my best friend and my Luke. Forgive me if I fail to meet your 'should' expectations. Forgive me if I need time out of a day. I wonder how well you would do if you were in my position? To me it is only yesterday and I am still learning how to live without Luke. I am still learning how I am supposed to survive and cope with a life I never planned or expected to live. It is only yesterday and I am new to this.

As I briefly mentioned above, our brains are very clever. They will protect us against too much trauma. This is partially why there is 'denial' as a part of grief (so I'm told). It's our brain's way of only letting us have what we can handle at that time. So on the days when I can't move from my sofa, on the days when I can't get out of bed, on the days when I just want to curl up and cry that's ok. That's my body healing and that's my body saying, "I need this right now." On the days when I actually manage to do something, that is apparently my mind and body saying...Yes you can handle that at the moment.

The lady explained that I now need to learn to listen to what my body is saying it can and can't handle, instead of listening to other people's expectations of me. She explained that my body on some days is saying 'yes you can do that but you can't do that, that AND that as well.' This is why I end up crashing after a couple of days of productiveness. (By productiveness I mean, decided to start yet another day all over again, make it into work and interact with people. Or if it's a weekend...managing to get up at some point and actually getting something to eat.)

She said pacing would help. (It won't help me feel better. It would just help.) I just have to identify what I can do and when I just need to sit out (that's the difficult part because all around me is this imposed word of 'should', so I need to distinguish between what I can do and what other people think I should be able to do.) But I am beginning to recognise the signs when I need to leave and need to be out of the way. I'm beginning to recognise, I think, when I just need to stop pushing the feelings back and stop fighting my way through, so that I can rest. So that my body has a chance to rest and deal with things (apparently).

This is all just too hard. It's too hard and I don't have any option but to keep going through it. There are very few situations in life where you have no choice and this is one of the worst ones. Everywhere I look, I see where Luke used to be. I see what we could have been. I see what we were. I see memories of Luke in every room that I walk into. I can't put any of his things away; I feel physically sick at the thought of moving his things. I've had no choice but to move some bits and pieces because the house flooded and so I had no choice. But moving his things; his porridge, his healthy things and protein shakers from the cupboards made me want to be sick. But I had no choice and through all of this, through all of the changes I'm having to remind myself and hold on to the reality that I had no choice. I had to move his towel from the upstairs rail because the decorators needed to paint. But I felt sick moving it and it will go back as soon as the decorators have finished.

The absence of Luke is everywhere and it wraps itself around me like thick tar. I'm not sure what my purpose is anymore. I was defined by Luke and by our future together. I was his fiancee and I was going to be Luke's wife. I was a girl whose dreams had come true and who had finally ended up in her own fairytale with her prince charming (cheesy but true). I was part of an incredible couple and part of a love that can't ever be felt again. I was happy.

But Luke is gone and I'm now lost. I'm completely lost and it doesn't matter which way I turn. I just can't seem to find a point to life anymore. I have lost my purpose. I can't seem to find where I fit. I'm just floating and I just want Luke. How am I supposed to accept that he isn't coming home? How am I supposed to survive this and cope with this? What the fuck am I supposed to do now?

I miss you Luke. More than anyone can imagine. I miss your smile and I miss your touch. I love you to the moon and back. A little bit...A LOT! XXXXxxxxXXXX