Life has been propelling me forward and I have found myself in a quiet, simmering reflection about the past six months of my life. Simultaneously feeling lost, yet found. Unbearable, lonely grief for the loss of my parents, yet cautiously hopeful for the future without them. Navigating a world without them is incomprehensible. Navigating a world without the 24 year partnership that had been my stability and security in life, is daunting. The loss of my relationship has further compounded my experience of grief. I've lost more than I ever thought possible, all at once. I still think a part of me is numb, a survival mechanism of sorts. Nothing is more finite than death. There is no arguing with death when it arrives. There is a before and there is an after. Getting caught in the inbetween, the what ifs and the if onlys, is futile. So I try to exist in the after, all the while feeling tremendously lost. I had a moment this past week where I was thinking about the prospect of finding love again, and I realised that if I did, that person would never know my parents. It made me feel incredibly sad. At times I feel a pull towards the old. Would it be better or make sense to reconcile with my ex? Everytime I doubt my separation, I come to the conclusion that reconciling is a risk not worth taking. I don't want to be what I was. Resentful, frustrated, miserable, sad. I don't want to be that with anyone. How much of the experience of my relationship with my ex was due to my own limitations and inability to shift my own behaviour? Was I a fair and thoughtful partner? I feel like I tried my best under the circumstances, but everyone has blindspots. I can't go back and change anything now anyway. I want to make sure that any future relationship does not descend into miserable resentment. I'm not ready for new or old, despite being alone and lonely. Life with our children has never been simple or easy. It has the added complexity of special needs, with all six children having their individual challenges. I would be lying if I didn't admit that it took a toll on our relationship. I often ask myself if I'm doing enough to encourage the children. Trying to make the most of opportunities to foster their independence and reach their potential. I guess at the end of the day, I can only do so much. Their Dad can only do so much too, and we just work it out as we go. I do know that I won't live forever. That is starkly apparent after losing my parents. Logically everyone knows that we're all going to die one day, but it is more palpable when loved ones pass away. I discussed this with my psychologist last week and the anxiety I experience when I think about my children navigating a world without me or their Dad. Though the contemplation of my own mortality has been on my mind since my mental breakdown in 2019. I was convinced I would die by suicide. My mind broke. It's frightening to remember how sick I was. I am still haunted by those experiences. I had one of my worst episodes in three years in mid-January. It was awful. But it wasn't as awful as my worst episodes from 2019. I did have to medicate to bring myself back down to earth, I remember feeling so angry at myself that I needed to take my rescue medication. Nevertheless, I knew I was sick and not thinking right. It was quite clear to my children and their Dad that I was not okay. Even after three years it is difficult to articulate what happens to my mind when I have my episodes, but I know how to manage it now. I'm fortunate to have good support, even from my ex. He is a good man. I worry about him and how he is coping. We used to check in a lot with how we were each dealing with our separation, but regular communication has fallen away. I think perhaps it coincided with my Dad passing away. Everything just became too much and trying to dissect our relationship breakdown...it was easier to avoid it. My goals in life are very simple right now. Look after my kids, do things that bring me joy. Which is why I started swimming at my local ocean baths recently. It has been therapy in motion. Therapy in the sun and sea. It has been exactly what I have needed. A great chance just to observe the sky and the ocean and people. And myself. I do lots of uninterrupted thinking and reflecting when I'm swimming backwards and forwards in the salty water. I think about how my sister taught me how to swim at the local pool and how much I loved doing underwater somersaults. There was a freedom in swimming as a kid. Weightlessness in water and the weightlessness of being a child. When joy was untainted and pure. Perhaps in a way that's what I'm searching for. Freedom from responsibilities and burdens and miserable mediocrity, even just for a little while. Obviously I can't free myself of the constraints of life, of my children, but something just for a short while to put everything into perspective. To make it all worthwhile. Something just for me. While pursuing those moments has been a small kind of magic, it resides side by side with loss and grief, sadness and loneliness. I wonder if it is all some emotional alchemical process I've had to journey through on my own. My hero's journey. My heroine's journey. At the end of the story they always go home right? Or find a new place to call home? I will always feel unbearably lonely and yearn for the home that is my parents. Accepting their deaths has been painfully simple, there is no coming back from death. But I find myself in a limbo of sorts. Looking back and looking forward. I need to accept that I'm not stuck. Just a soul that is in a grace period and there is no rhyme or reason to be in a hurry to do anything. My intuition speaks to me. "Just stay. Be still. You will know when. You will find what you need."
How do I find something when I'm standing still intuition? Maybe it will find me?
My soul and heart and body are tired. Through all the ages and dimensions. I can be still for awhile. I need to be.
I love you Mum and Dad.
I just miss you.
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