Welcome back to another week of the “Share Your Story” series. Last week we had Pam from Pam’s Bake and Baby Blog sharing her story about enjoying working. How it’s OK to love working and being a mum, and how Mum’s should support each other. If you didn’t see it, pop over…… This week I would like to introduce you to Lizzie. Lizzie is the writer of Go Effy Yourself. She is sharing her story today on loss and the grief that comes with it.
*Trigger warning, this story is about the loss of loved ones and mental health*
Go Effy Yourself
I’m a 20-year-old Mother from mid Wales with a 2-year-old son. I’m a care leaver, dog lover, and writing enthusiast. I started writing my blog in February 2017 as a means to express my emotions, control my post natal depression, and keep a journal of my thoughts. I wanted to keep a blog so I could leave some of my thoughts behind, just in case I wasn’t around when my son grew up. My blog focuses mainly on my life as a mother, the frustrations of being a lone parent, but also contains elements of my fostered and adopted life also. I write because it brings me peace and helps me heal.
Have you ever felt grief? Do you know what it feels like?
It feels like a burning hot poker being driven slowly through your heart. It’s a thousand tiny pin pricks in your eyeballs. A fire that rises in your throats as you scream uncontrollably.
March 25th 2017
This is how my day started. And how my day will end. It’s the silence of a heart no longer beating, a hand not there to hold. There’s a hole in my heart, in my soul. My throat aches and my chest hurts. My best friend isn’t here to make me feel better.
Ever had a police officer show up at your home to tell you a loved one has died?
I have. It’s painful. Almost a surreal dream. I’m still not sure I actually woke up today, I feel like I’m trapped in a nightmare.
And then there’s the people messaging me, saying ” I know how you feel”. And while you appreciate the sentiment you know that really, they don’t have a [email protected]@cking clue.
Grief is that burning hot anger.
The ” why the hell has this happened?” The waves of pain that hit you randomly, like an axe in the shoulder, a knife to the heart. The wish of ” why hadn’t I made him stay”, like you could have stopped it from happening.
Grief is the knowing that you will never get to tell someone you love them ever again, or hold their hand, or tell them to roll their window up because you’re cold. It’s knowing that you can never sing High school Musical songs in the car with him ever again, or watch him hold your son when your son’s asleep.
Grief is the loss of part of your being, the wish of being able to have that hug one last time, to hold him just a little while longer.
Grief is the relief of knowing the death was instant, that no pain was felt. Grief is the friend of death, an acquaintance of pain, and it knows forever.
He’ll always be gone but he’ll always be loved. He was everything to his friends, his family, and to me and Harvey. He was Harvey’s friend, step dad. My best friend and partner in crime. My heart breaks knowing I’ll be burying my soul mate but I know now the only thing I can do is grieve for the man I knew and loved, and be there for his family. He will never be forgotten 💜
January 18th 2018
They say home is where the heart is; and by God he will always be my home. Its been 9 months, but it still feels like yesterday. I still want to text him, call him.
My heart feels empty.
Every night I climb into bed and pray to God to keep my son safe. I pray for Joe’s soul to be protected for eternity. I still cry. They say time is a healer. But is it? I don’t feel like I’m healing at all. Over Christmas I lost another of my best friends to mental health. He was a happy-go-lucky, kind-hearted soul, the life of the party.
When Joe died, it was Timmy who helped me most. He encouraged me to be free with my thoughts, open with my feelings, and supported me through the nights where I felt like I couldn’t cope. He taught me the importance in platonic love; he cared for me through my darkest moments and never once took advantage, and to this day its my biggest regret I wasn’t able to return the favour. Unfortunately, when someone decides that they can’t breathe anymore, there isn’t anything anyone can do or say that will stop the sensation of drowning. Sometimes, they have the courage to speak up before it’s too late, but sadly for others, sometimes they just don’t feel the tidal wave coming.
And that’s what it was. A tidal wave took Timmy away from his family, his friends. His emotions.
It’s a common misconception to those with mental health issues that they are alone. The fact is, you are never alone.
There is always someone who loves you and will worship the ground you walk on. If any of us could have predicted this would happen, we’d have all been by his side. We would have made him know how loved he is, and how each of our lives would drastically change without him.
The sad part is, Timmy will never know that the church was packed full to the rafters of people mourning him. Thousands of tears were shed that day, by hundreds of people who knew and loved him. His graveside will never be empty; his name never forgotten. But he will never know how one-act, caused by a tidal wave of emotion, has devastated hundreds of lives.
I know tonight, I tucked my son into bed, kissed him and cuddled him just a little bit more than usual. I took a moment to appreciate him just a little bit more. Losing two of my closest friends in 2017 has taught me that the world is cruel; but your heart can be kind. Joe and Timmy had the kindest hearts I’ve ever known. No matter what life threw at them.
So today, as you get up out of bed, think to yourself, “How can I appreciate my life today?” Smile. Love your life, love everything around you. Take a second to appreciate your loved ones. It can all be gone too soon.”
Thank you Lizzie for sharing your story, it must have been a difficult time for you and your family.
If you would like to follow Lizzie on her social media platforms then you can find her here: