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When things go wrong....

This was a draft from last year; I hope by sharing it helps; a virtual hug to know you're not alone in how you may be feeling. I remember writing an instagram post a while ago about being part of the "sandwich" generation - old enough to have kids and aging parents, trying to support both. I think about that post often, especially as I chat with others who are going through similar things. That doesn't mean that all that went wrong, except it did in a way when I lost my Dad. It's a funny phrase isn't it "losing someone"; like you left them in Sainsburys. I think lost is more what I became. I was lucky enough to have a brilliant relationship with my Dad and to have spent a lot of time with him, especially towards the end. When he'd gone the space that was left got full of hurt, pain and anger. I missed him so much and I did not understand what was happening. I knew he was no longer a physical being that I had a cuppa tea and laughed about Bargain Hunt with, but I didn't understand any of the feelings I was going through and why. No-one evers pulls you aside or gives you a lesson at school and says, this is what happens when someone dies and this is what you'll feel..... simply because no two situations are the same. Emotional intelligence wise, I knew this was grief, but it was the handling of it - the being with it - that I couldn't bear. I didn't know what to do to change that. I knew yoga postures, breath, reading of ancient texts that could help, but there was no energy remaining to want to do it; sleep had gone ... just like Dad. Makes sense when you put the two together. I sought help over a period of time; appointments at my GP, found a grief counsellor, got 1:1's with my teacher and together it all helped. Bodywork sessions when I could. Then the energy came back to read the ancient texts, to do breathwork sessions, to start climbing back up whatever hole it felt like I'd crawled into. The holes are still there, but they are no longer so dark and gloomy, they are furnished with a little lamp and a duvet - in that I mean that there are still dark times - grief isn't linear, and realising that helped me. A song, a mug, a saying; they can all remind us of who we lost, take us back to a time, a memory which suddenly knocks us of our feet. There are days when he is so close it's as though he is sitting on the mat with me (although with his knees........maybe not!), but it's ok to be with the feeling, the emotion because it passes, but whilst in it, finding a kindness to myself - that duvet and lamp in the hole, helps no end. It took a long time to find that.


There are many great organisations available to give guidance - I found Dying Matters and Cruse Bereavement really helpful resources.



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