March is always a weird, limbo month which brings ups and downs. Waiting for that next anniversary, the date we’d love to miss, then the date that should have been, dates which mean nothing to anyone else, but to us who feel them, who feel lost and confused, these dates are at times hard to breathe through.
It is all feeling particularly surreal this year. There have been moments where none of this is our story, unconnected to the whole thing. Then the days where it feels like new, the raw emotions as we joined this world; this I’ve hit this week, I found myself sobbing in the car on route to our weekly shop, something I hadn’t done for a long time, you know that cry where you can’t breathe tears roll down your cheeks, feeling broken and weak, feeling unsure on how the hell it has been five years since we last saw her, our daughter.
The thoughts of disbelief, which never seem to go away.
Most of the time it can feel as though no-one understands the way I feel; confused because I still get emotional over these weeks, avoidance is the key; at least that is how it feels.
There are times where I have no idea who I am any more.
We’re at the half way point of her living weeks. In less than two weeks it’ll be the anniversary, no more “on this day posts” for another year.
Five years ago this week we’d been given a discharge date, all set to count down the days to come home, waiting for that all important weight gain. She was never meant to die.
Five years on I still cannot understand why.
I can’t understand any of it. I don’t know where the time has gone, yet I stopped clock watching at the two year mark, it should come as no surprise that we’re here.
No matter how many posts I write, I will still wish that things were different, wish for her to be with us, adding to the chaos that is our house.
I cannot believe she is gone.
It is ok, not to be ok