I am back at work full time and it helps me to focus. It is the only place where I can think straight and hold a sensible conversation, everywhere else I feel distracted but it's obvious why. Every second thought is of my beautiful Hannah. I start to talk and forget what I am talking about, poor Phil must think I'm going slightly mad, although admittedly this only shows with Phil, everywhere else my mask is glued on!!
I have piled on weight but can't motivate myself to lose it..... Perhaps I might die sooner if I carry on piling on the weight!! Now I know that is dark humour and I don't necessarily mean it however I won't lie. If I was to be told that I was terminally ill right now, I would only be bothered because of the family I would leave behind. I don't feel any better, the only thing that has changed between the shittiest day of my life in May to today is that my capacity to cope and carry this unbearable sadness has increased. I read a post about grief being like a backpack, I can't find it now and didn't get it when I first read but I do now, I'm slowly learning how to carry mine. If anyone has a link to this I would appreciate it.
I cannot believe it is now 10 and a bit months since I saw and smelt and laughed and hugged and kissed my chicken? I watch my son grow taller, turning into a young man and it breaks my heart that Hannah isn't here to share it. I see Hannah's friends in Wilmslow and I feel like I am being stabbed through the heart. I am sorry that this post is a shit one. Life is shit. We have been handed a life sentence and it is massively shit.
LIFE IS SHIT! It used to be almost perfect, perfect enough for me but now...............
