Ramblings of a Reluctant Widow

Twice in my life I've contemplated suicide. Both times I've thought of all the people who love me and realised I couldn't do it to them. In his book Reasons to Stay Alive, Matt Haig describes a similar experience. On the brink of jumping, he lists in his mind the people who love him. He wished in that moment that he didn't have anyone, because then he could jump and stop the pain. So why didn't Mark think that way? I know he thought about Oliver and I at the end, becuase he text me to tell me loved us.  So what then? Did he die thinking I didn't love him? I'd respond to a friend asking this that no, he didn't, he knew how much you loved him but his mind was sick and he died as a result of that sickness.  But I'm not my own friend, I'm in my own head over thinking and exhausted and greiving hard. So hard. 

 How was your day? Today I've dropped Oliver to school, had a plumber in (so granted not physical work for me)cleaned out the fish tank, fed the cat, done and dried 2 loads of washing, planned meals for the week, done the weekly shop involving two supermarkets to get everything we need at the best possible price, used u switch to try and find a better broadband deal as ours is really expensive, collected Oliver from school, rushed him home to brush teeth then straight out to dentist. (his teeth are fine, I need a filling 🙄) dealt with his sadness (sulk) at getting a spiderman sticker (his favourite superhero) because apparently he wanted a batman one and sadly the dentist wasn't a mind reader. Provided endless snacks becuase 'mummy I'm still hungry'. Cooked from scratch, loaded the dishwasher, fed the cat again and mowed the lawn. Now I'm sat trying to engage with him playing a mindless game on his tablet becuase we haven't actually connected today on a mea

I've started my phased return to work. I've done two afternoons last week and will be doing two this week also.  I'm regretting it already.  On Wednesday I hid in my boss' office as she was offsite, did some mandatory training and cleared the emails. Had a big cry on a colleague and came home.  OK, day one, nobody expected much else.  Friday I attempted a clinic. Just virtual reviews so no actual patients in front of me, just records from when they had their diagnostics done and I needed to make decisions on whether to treat or not.  I managed 7 out of a clinic of 16. 7 reviews in three hours.   I've left them for my colleague to double check today because my confidence is shot and I am convinced I'm going to miss something.  I just don't know how I'm going to cope with my full hours. The expectations and pressures on me in my role are big and it feels totally overwhelming right now.  Already I've had one consultant say "thank goodness you'r

I've honestly just come here for a moan, so, fair warning don't read if you don't want to hear it. Do you know what I miss? Having someone to moan to... I've got loads of friends who care but feel I can't keep on burdening them. So I will say it here. This is So. Effing. Hard.  Lone parenting is relentless and I'm lonely. The hard bits are harder with nobody to tag team, the good bits are hard because there's nobody to share them.  People are lovely and kind and supportive but at the end of the day behind the closed door I'm alone in this. Nobody is as invested in my child as I am. It's all on me.   I've lost my life partner and I can't even grieve for him properly because I'm so angry at him. I'll be back to work again in a few days and I just don't know how I'm going to cope. It's exhausting and I'm still swinging like a pendulum between angry and sad.  Yesterday at the zoo I lost Oliver for a few minutes. The adrena

Big week this week,  A lot has happened that I need to process. So hello! The police came on Tuesday to take my statement for the coroner. Fortunately it was the DC I already know so that made it easier on me, and he was in plain clothes and an unmarked car, which I was also grateful for.  Lesson one:  I'm still apparently bothered what the neighbours think despite my work on  self esteem and letting go of other people's opinions.  It was tough, as I expected, telling him about Mark as a person, how we met, the state of our marriage through the years, Bertie's birth and death, the years of waiting for Oliver, how he fared through the pandemic and the lead up to his death.  I felt a heavy weight of responsibility to do us all justice.   The picture the coroner forms of him as a man will be mostly shaped by my statement.  Mark is not here to speak for himself, and whilst I knew him better than anyone, I now wonder if I really knew him at all.   I got through it without an ugl