Disconnected from Reality

I feel like I don't know who I am anymore.

A stranger in my own life.

What is wrong with me?

In recent months, I've come to the jarring realization that I am not the same person I was a year ago. I feel disconnected from the world and the people in it. Not really real. It feels like I'm missing a piece of my heart. Somewhat dead inside. Slipping away further each day.

For the most part, I just want to be alone with my grief. I want to curl up with it and block out everything else. And in a way, I am alone with it. It feels like people have already forgotten my mum. Like no one misses her the way I do. It feels like it'll never get easier.

Things have been rough since Christmas. I think that's when I started to fall back downhill. There's been a lot of anniversaries, and a lot of 'firsts'. Christmas was the first big one, and since then, my birthday, my mum's birthday, and Mother's Day (all three falling in one week).

It's been hard to figure out how I'm supposed to spend those days alone. Do I sit in silence, drinking the day away with only memories to keep me company, like I did on Christmas? My psych even offered to take me out for lunch for my birthday, but that just felt too pathetic and pitiful to even consider. In the end, I spent them all alone.

At the start of the year, an old friend messaged me, wanting to catch up for a drink. And part of me wants to. But I couldn't do it. I make excuses, weeks between replies. I can't bring myself to be social. I know that no one wants to hear me rambling on about my grief, but it's all I can ever talk about. All I can ever think about. It's completely consumed me.

When mum was sick, my life became all about throwing myself into supporting and spending time with her. It wasn't an overly long time, but it was extremely intense. Now, I feel like I've lost all purpose. In a way, her illness and subsequent death have become a part of my identity. It's a new breed of emptiness and loneliness.

The only people I see are paid to be there - my support worker, my psychologist, my dietitian, my doctor.

I see her in my dreams every night. Living, dying, crying, laughing, fighting.

I'm working on my psych to find healthier ways to grieve. Positive ways.

Last week, I finally finished packing and saying goodbye to mum's house. I'm glad it's wrapped up, as it was a very intense and exhausting process, both emotionally and physically. But handing over the keys for her house feels like losing another part of her. It was heartbreaking, walking out for the last time. I'd still had her place to go to and feel close to her. But now, I only have the cemetery.

I know I need to find a way to move forward. Not necessarily move on, but a way to stop being stagnant, and find my own life. I know that my mum wouldn't want me to be so suffocated by her loss, but I can't help it. Last year changed me drastically, to the core, and normality feels out of my grasp.

It's hard to get out of bed in the mornings again, and even harder to not retreat back after a few hours. At the moment, my cats are my purpose. They get me out of bed each day, if only for a short while to make sure their bowls are full and their litter boxes clean. And when I inevitably hide back in bed, they keep me company and comfort me.

Apart from the cats, the only other reason to get out of bed is to make a drink. I hate myself for not having control over alcohol. Even though I've cut back my calories (both food and alcohol) to not gain any more for the last few years, I still hate seeing the number on the scale each morning, frustratingly stable.

The only decent loss I've had in the last few years was when my alcohol dropped to nearly zero for a few months - about 7kg during the time I was staying with mum in hospital for her final weeks, when I was in hospital myself shortly after, and the month or so after that (before my alcohol intake went back up). At the moment, I average about 450 in food, but around 1,200 in alcohol. Not even sugary drinks, just dry wine and vodka. I've just started a new medication to help get off the drink, and it's early days, but I'm cautiously optimistic. If only my GP knew that my only motivation to get sober is so I can get the weight back off...

As far as my nerve injury goes, I stopped physio a couple of months ago. Or, more to the point, they dumped me because my progress had plateaued. My arm is basically back to normal, although it still gets tired/sore easily (chopping veggies for a batch of soup last month had me out of action all week), and the Lyrica helps with the nerve pain. But my thigh is still numb, and my leg still weak. I'm still needing the walking stick, and can't do a straight leg lift no matter how hard I try. I've got a couple of specialists appointments coming up in June, so I guess I'll see where to go from here.


So many thoughts. So few words. So little energy.

Who am I?

My slightly depressing Christmas meal. Lamb leg cooked with garlic and rosemary - 'set and forget' in the slow cooker - with air fried potatoes. Usually, I would go all out with a fancy roast chicken,but there's just no point anymore.



xxBella