It's been 3 months today

Since you went off sparkling. I miss you so so so fucking much and I feel so shit just keeping on saying the same thing.

I wrote a poem today.

I wanted to share it with you.

..............

Your healer

It's impossible for me to convey what I really feel

For me to say what I really believe.

I feel committed to a promise. A promise to keep you alive. To speak your truth. To share all the strife and your wise

Words that kept me from dying the moment you left this world.

I want to make sure people feel you're energy.

Who you were who you are,

Who you're off to be in this new adventure where youre dressed in sequins and having

Tea

With idris Elba lying in your lap

Whilst you smell the daffodils and you both take a map

To plan out the next road you take. What fun you'll have on your journey you'll make.

I want to tell people how special you are but I don't want to fool people about how hard you found being alive.

I don't want them to think you wanted to die

But I want them to know the significance of you, choosing life

When really. All of this time

You have wondered if it would be easier without being here for the ride.

When they told you you didn't have long. I'm scared it didn't sync in and when they told you it wouldn't be fifteen years I am scared thatyou didn't hear him.

When you said you would heal like that documentary said you could

I am scared thst you didn't realise all the things they said your should

Do.

Like drink wheatgrass shots and mediate daily. Visualise your cancer and battle the failure

Of your body.

Did it give up because it didnt think you wanted to be here anymore?

Did your body finally catch up with

You mind and decide to stop working no more.

Was your body in acceptance with where your mind had spent a long time and decided to grant you your wishes.

Forgetting that one of them was not to be dead. Not to leave us behind.

But to be at peace with yourself and to accept what you were to find.

You didn't want to die.

You didn't want to die.

You wanted the idea of who you thought you were to disperse and subside.

You didn't want to die.

You wanted your ego and your self hate and your pain to stop telling lies.

When we say we can't do this anymore.

We don't mean being here. 

We mean the heart ache and the thoughts of who we should be. We mean the fear.

We don't want to be scared of who we are but finally be free of who we think we need to be and fall further into being us.

Being human.

Being in love.

With who we have always been.

Cancer may have took your breath away.

But it certainly gave you your self back each day.

A little closer to who you have always been a little closer to the wonder woman that I have always seen.

So you got a year of feeling that love of being in love and sharing your love

For your self.

Where I would stand and watch and somehow understand that this year would be all we got, left.

And that was enough.

A year.

Of you being you. Of seeing you. Of loving you

Because a year of inner peace is better than 50 of turmoil and a year of self compassion is better that a lifetime of 

hate seeping in and incase

you overdosed and became someone who never found their way.

I am grateful for that year you had. Where you put the pain down and you said. OK.

I'm here. I'm me. I am love.

I'm here I'm me I will do love.

The cancer took away your future but it took away the depression that was actually the real killer.

So for now. Today. In this moment of grief.

I am thankful. For cancer. For somehow

Being your healer. 

A come down

I think this might be it. The grief that people discuss. A sickening, uneasy, nauseous feeling.

I've felt the niggles before. I have felt that there was something not quite right lingering, but it easily can be distracted from. Life until now has felt quite normal I would suppose. Normal but without you in it. Perhaps a feeling that you're just on holiday. I watch your videos and listen to your voice and it is like we arw staying in touch via whats app or by phone.

But now, two months in to the day, I don't just sit with a niggle but an overwhelming darkness. A wave came out of nowhere on saturday and I came back up for air. Another hit me yesterday and this time it feels like I'm still under. Somehow breathing. Somehow I have some oxygen but it's running out. The water is murky. This is not scubadiving in the caribbean.

The only way I could decribe it to J was i feel like I'm on a come down after a night of doing a shit ton of drugs. Unease. Fear. Anxiety. Confusion. Nothing makes sense. Heart racing. Am I gonna die?

I notice this week how much I am craving attention. People. Someone to ask how I really am and not just wait for “I'm ok" which I normally am. Ya know. As OK as you can be when your mum, your person, has died. But I dont feel OK today. Or yesterday.

OK. Yes. I can shower, dress, eat, muck about on tiktok, laugh, smile, hae conversations. If you mean that? Am I OK? Then the answer will always be yes I think. But am I actually OK? No I'm fucking not. But I don't know what I need other than people to not forget that your dead. Or to talk about you and ask questions?

I dont know what I need so I dont know how to ask. I don't know what “help" I am meant to ask for becuase really, I don't know what is wrong.

You're not here with me. That's whats wrong. And noone can fix it. So what is the point telling anyone that?

The parakeets havent come sinfe I asked you for a new sign. So I am waiting.

Yesterday it was a year since we found out I was pregnant. Me and you in shock sitting looking at the little stick of miracles. Yesterday I got my period after a real good “try” for a baby. And for the 1st time I felt devestated. A xmas miracle was not on the cards and thay magic I thought you may be able to help with, didnt come into fruition and I felt disappointed. Unfairly so.

This is the hardest month. Your celebration is done. Coronavirus has stolen your limelight and your death is no longer the most shocking thing to happen to people or to this year. People say they haven't forgotten but they are never going to feel what I feel and so of course. I feel lonley. I feel lost.

J asked me for some words whilst I cried and couldnt explain how I felt.

Lost.

Alone.

Confused.

Let down.

Needy.

Broken.

Fearful.

The only other person who knew me, all of me. Knew things I may have done when I was little, my little intricacies, funny things, naughty things, was you. Noone else. Noone else knows the real full me other than me. And now I wonder who I am. If your not here, my context feels lost.

I feel lost.

I am scared that I am not going to get washed up on the shore and that I may be lost at sea. I am worried that these dark murky waters will not ever clear.

I am praying and longing for sunshine on my skin.

I feel like the only way is to share you. Share your story. Share our story. I hope that works.

I miss you mum.

I love you more than marzipan.

I feel disconnected

Ive not been able to write for a while. I think after your celebration I was so overwhelmed with joy. It seems a bit mad. That there would be so much joy at a celebration of life. But there was. The day was full of love and magic and you.

I don't think there is a single thing I would do differently, apart from have you there, physically.

I keep telling myself thst you're with me in spirit. I know you send the parakeets. But sometimes it doesn't feel good enough. Sometimes, well, all the time. So I think I stop thinking about the alternatives. The way things could have been. Used to be.

Last night I went to text you. I plain simply forgot for a split second. And It broke my heart. It was so weird how I could just forget that you're gone. Physically.

I listen to our chats and I watch videos of you and it makes me feel safe. But time goes on and I dont see or hear you for a while and I wonder if this is life now. Do I just get used to this? I dont wnat to get used to it. But can I carry on living if I dont?

I hear you in my head. I visualise you opposite me sitting in a field of daffodils smiling.

Your celebration was full of you. Every story every memory was so consistent it made me so proud that you were authentically you until the end. Even in death. In your message. People have come away feeling full of love. Full of energy. Full of a new perspective. You did that. Your words, your faith, your belief. The whole day was sprinkled with sparkly you. Your imperfections. Your insecurities. You genuine openness to being you even when you didnt like you. Your willingness to let others be them, even when you didnt like them. I know you didnt always get shit right. Thats what your day was about. Honesty. Openess. Forgivness.

The silent disco was the most amazing feeling I have felt since you have been gone (from here) I felt you laughin and smiling watching us all dance to candy. Watching us connect and breathe and feel you. Remembering something you said that pissed us off. Or that pissed you off. I know you felt our release and our forgiveness.

Did you get our full moon ceremony messages? Did you feel comfort in them? Did they reach you?

I know you will say of course they did. Sometimes I just wanna be reassured.

Thats what I miss. The reassurance of your love. Of your listening. Of your empathy. I miss it so much. I miss you so much.

I'm sorry I havent written in a long while. I have been trying to get used to life without you here. But I dont want to. I dont like it.

I miss you. Last week felt fake. Now I look back. The way I felt ok. The warmth I felt post your day. Cos now I feel plummeted back to earth and all I feel is heaviness in my heart again. But I carry on because, well, you have to. Because I know you want me to. I know you are rooting for me. But I have this dread and fear that something bad is going to happen. And Im trying my hardest to remember the joy and the magic. But this minute. This hr. I feel suffocated by fear at the idea you are not here to protect and love me like you used to.

I miss you

I love you more than marzipan.

Everything happens for a reason…

Mum, today, J and I had an offer accepted on a victorian terrace house in Walthamstow. I tell you but I know you know. I know you had a part to play. I know this is one of your signs. I know.

I asked you the other day if you would help us get the house and you replied “I will help you get whats right” Oh you wise old bat.

I have been so excited today, and yes, of course, on pinterest as much as I can lol. You would be proud.

But I have gone to text or call you several times. To tell you our news. You were the 1st person I wanted to call. I wanted to call you up to ask you what you think we should do to it, with it. I wanted to thank you for the money. For the oppurtunity to be able to get this 3 bed grown up adult life house. I can't quite believe it to be honest. It seems quite mad.

These days are going to be the hardest, but, yes. I still believe everything happens for a reason.

The reason may not make sense to me, ever, in this lifetime. But my mum and I stand by pur faith. "the universe knows better than you or I" Its all so much bigger than us. Perhaps mum had learnt what she needed, loved as much as she could, seen herself, been loved tenfold... we don't know. I dont know. It is bigger than me. Us. Which perhaps is part of why it hurts so much. Grief is and always will be bigger than me. But I do know, this happened "for" us not "to" us.

It feel a very very high price to pay to be able to look at my future and be happy. I would have learnt nothing and stayed stuck forever and a day if it meant I didn't have to lose you. But this is how the universe intended it to be. Somehow. This is what our story is.

But I miss you so so much and I want nothing more than to share it with you.

I will keep on.

I love you more than marzipan mumsy

16 days without you

Somehow it seems likes its been months. Not 2 weeks. How has it only been 2 weeks.

How is it that this time 3 weeks ago we watched Magic Mike together. You said to J “you better not be growing that top not again” and when I asked you what you loved most about J you siad his wit.

How was it only 3 weeks ago I bought you 3 new nighties and went for pizza express with J as if life was normal? That hardly makes sense. I try to remind myself not to feel guilty that I wasn't by ypur side 24/7. That you needed the respite. You said to me around then that you were scared. One scared of the pain and two scared that you needed to let go but felt bad. You felt pressure as a mum to stay. I hope I convinced you I would be ok. I said I would be and you asked me to promise and I meant it from the heart. I will be oK. But I know it's going to be hard.

I am worried I am npt upset enough. Not becuase I didnt love you. But because I am self protecting. And one day the cover up is going to be peeled off and I am going to have a break down.

I just feep there is only so many times I can say

I am so so. Ups and downs. I miss you. I feel lost. I feel lonely. I cant believe you're gone. It seems so trivial. None of that seems deep or heart felt enough. I feel like I am wondering around an 80s new york in the rain on a dark grey day after being dumped and not having anywhere to go and then walking into an dated bedsit that has coloured sheets, a carpet and doll heads on the wall with no tv to distract you and an extractor fan going off consitently so you feel even more uneasy but you're not sure why. I know some peoplw won't get this. But you will. I know you will. You're the only person that possibly could.

I am going to keep looking out for signs. For you.

I love you more than marzipan.

Love bobs xxx

Day 12 without you: but you came to visit

Mum. Muuuuuuuum I cannot believe it, although I 100% do.

You sent a sign today. You came to visit. Its insane.

I know a lot of skeptical people, but you taught me not to listen to them. In your words “if you believe, then it's real” and whilst you were referring to Santa, the sentiment never left me. If you believe it is, then it is real, of course.

You and I have believed in so much together and the realness has always been so strong. During your cancer journey we talked alot about our beliefs in the lesson it was bringing us and that this happened FOR us not TO us and our faith and belief in that never wavered.

Before you went you pronised you would show me signs. You said “if I can, of course I will. I will always be with you" you said to look out for butterflys, feathers, birds, ladybugs etc the usual after death signs.

Since you've been gone. I've been looking but only slightly because it's not been long and people say you need time, that spirits & energy need time.

A friend off of instagram sent me a beautiful book called signs about seeing signs after our loved ones have gone. And the author said, you may want to ask for a sign that isnt usual, ie she asks for llamas because they arent a usual thing you would see.

I wasn't sure what to ask for. I am only 10 pages in so didn't think much about it.

J & I had an argument last night. I felt lonely and needy and he felt disconnected. 100% he wasnt really doing anything but when I said I felt he was being a bit disconnected, he didnt, well, connect. I could hear you telling me to not go to sleep on a row and that his intentions weren't to be disconnected and to hug him. Of course taking his side ha.

But we went to sleep moody at one another which also was annoying cos we are potentially ovulating and so, well, arguments arent useful during ovulation when you're trying. But hey. I was too mad.

I will preface this by saying…

We have lived in Brixton 11 yrs. The UK for 35. In this flat for 3 yrs.

We woke up this morning and as J got out of bed something took his breath away. He got me up quickly, quietly and excitedly said…

“theres a fucking parrot on the window sill”

“You what?"

“A parrot. A parakeet. A bright green one”

I looked. And right there less than a meter away from the bed, right on our window sill there it was. A bright green orange beaked parakeet.

And I knew. I knew it was a sign from you.

Ok skeptics. Parakeets are in the UK and yes, they are mostly in london. I hear you. But firstly this wasn't a fox, of which I see at least 2 a day. This also wasn't a pigeon. Of which I see dozens of daily. This also wasnt a seagull, which yes, I have seen in the ends of Brixton many times before.

This was a bright green parakeet which I have never EVER seen (only heard) and especially not one meter away from where we sleep at our window sill. If we had ever seen one before and so close, it would have been a big deal then. But now… now this felt insanely comforting.

I only managed to get a picture once it flew into our bare tree opposite and just sat. Again. We have never seen one in our trees opposite. It was insane.

What felt more insane was that a couple of weeks before you past we were in Langley park and we could here them. You get excited because of course. Your love for birds and how joyful you would get at seeing (only you would know the name) of a specific bird. You bloody loved bird watching you mad woman you. We had only just had a conversation about parakeets.

We also had only just had a visit from Poppa 10 days before you went and on the morning of the day you passed over, there was Poppa again. The robin sat on the ledge of our open windows for a good while. And I knew then that was going to be the day.

So of course, there it was today. A sign from you via a bright parakeet. It makes total sense. I am still sitting here so excited and warm hearted.

I looked up its meaning…

how amazing is that. One of the hindu meanings is that it symbolises fertility which made me laugh soon as we were meant to try last night until we had this stupid row.

I literally do not care what narrow minded, boring people will say or think. I know it was you🙏🏽

Mum. I love you so so so much. Thank you for being here even when I doubted or questioned it Thank you.

I will look out for you in other ways too but this will always be a very special sign. My first one to reassure me that you were still with me.

Thank you!

Day 3 without you (in this world)written 3Rd feb

I'm in that coffee shop in Hammersmith we went to when the car wouldnt start. Remember we had that wonderful day. We had a 2hr wait in the hospital and we just chilled together. Then the car wouldnt start so we discussed our dinner party guests and then we came for coffee at Truth. We liked the name.

We sung along to Mariah Carey all I want fo christmas. We drove home and watched a beautiful sunset.

This place ia feeling safe. Because your energy is here. You are here. I hear you. In the silence. We were good at sitting in silence.

Today I met Amy. Seeing people who have and are going through what I am, helps. It makes me feel ok and comforted to know others are surviving.

We have similar views and ethos on death. We know you are with us. We know you're here. Our concerstations with you are true.

She made me feel better about feeling better. And although feeling better isnt going to last. It won't be linear. It is also nice to embrace the good moments.

I feel a slow subdude feeling of grief coming along. I know seeing J and going back to yours is making me feel anxious. I heard you just say “why are you going back then?”

I hear you and we wont stay for too long. But we need to get Beau and I want to tidy and clean a bit.

I know you think “fuck it leave it” but it will help me feel less anxious.

I just wanted you to know I feel better in this moment. I know you are here but also dancing “badly” and singing out of tune with all your soul. I know all the baggage and fears are gone. You are in tune with the universe flowing with the waves. I know it.

I love you for it.

So so much more than marzpian

Day 1 without you

I wish I could replay wednesday back properly in my head. I wish I had known it was going to be our last day together. I wouldnt have sat on my laptop. I would have massaged your feet like I had said I would have sat by your side from morning until the end.

Despite knowing our days were numbered and that the end of this life together was close, it still knocked the wind out of me and shattered my heart into tiny pieces.

I cant remember the last actual thing We said to each other. You were slipping away for a few days. Can you remember? I remember the last time I said I love you and you replied. You enphasised the “too” in a cute loving way. I had worried you had gone from me the thursday before so I didn't know if you would reply. But you did. And I knew it to be true. It resettled my fear. That you werent gone yet. We had more time.

We had a few more days but it was hard for you. And I cannot recall each minute and its breaking me. I cant catch whether we had any other meaningful talks in the final days. Did we connect or was you asleep? Did you feel me there?

Poppa came to visit in the morning. I should have known then. He came back for you. It was time. Did you know it was time?

I know you were ready. We discussed it. I meant it when I said I would be ok. I meant it when I said it was ok to let go. I truly meant it.

Our love is so strong.

I felt it as I lay next to you stroking your face. I felt life leaving you and the love remaining between us.

I keep wondering whats real and what wasnt. Did you hear me? Did you feel me? Was you as peaceful as you looked?

You looked so peaceful when the time came.

Mum. Sometimes I cant breathe. I can't handle not remembering every little moment we had on wednesday. But then I feel peace because I watch our videos back or listen to our conversations and I think back to singing “oh christmas tree” or choosing our 5 dinner guests or dancing to Lizzo or singing to the spice girls or laughing with J.

My heart is full at the things I can remember and I have to keep reminding myself when I cant fathom what I can’t.

What I remember is all that matters. Like you always said. I will remember what I am meant to. And what I dont, wasn't important. I hear you saying it again and again.

So far life without you feels unbearable. It feels lonley. It feels cold. It feels pointless.

But I will be ok. Like I said. I will be ok.

I pray you are. I pray you are sparkling and peaceful and happy and full of memories and love.

I love you more than marzipan. Forever.

Xxx

Day 358: A nEw beginning

My heart is lost. Broken. Floating outside my body.

I hope you are sparkling and smiling whilst dancing with Idris happy and content.

I'm sure you just whispered “I am”

So that makes me happy.

I love you more than marzipan mumsy. Always and forever!

Day 352

But I am ok.

I will be ok.

The sadness isn't and will not be constant.

And once my heart is broken, I know you will have the pieces of it that you will need and that will make it better.

That will make it OK.

Day 351

This is by far the worst bit…

And yet I know it's not the worst bit.

My heart is breaking.

Oh christmas tree oh christmas tree…

How lovely are your branches.

This week we had another good week inbetween the shite bits. You came to see me and J on sunday and we had a binge watch of The Morning Show. We ate a roast dinner and enjoyed every bite.

Monday was a bit disasterous to start. 2 parking tickets, Beau pooing in the lounge and car… but we drove back to yours and the sunset was so lovely. We said we were grateful for that sunset when we did our 3 gratitudes that night.

Tuesday we had a scare at your blood transfusuin. I wont even moan about the NHS cos I get it… but the frustration is real. That night we went to see David Hamilton and you felt good. We felt encouraged by his talk and we went to sleep with smiles on outlr faces.

The next day we got you some more fresh blood and then you saw Steph and then Janie and I was just so happy to see you see friends. Smile. Feel normal.

You are more teary lately. Its a good thing. You havent cried for so long. You need to let the emotion out. But it scares me. To see you scsredor hurt or worried. I want you not to worry about me.

Today we had a littlw cry. Our baby would have been due this week and we both were sad. Sad at the loss of the hope and magic a grandchild would have bought to our lives right now.

But then I put up the christmas tree and we sung our traditional song. We were happy. You were happy.

And then tonight we rushed you to hospital as you had signs of infection.

This doesnt get easier. The uncertainty. The rough with the smooth. Whenever its up youthink you're winnin and that we are going to continue to be up. And then soemthing happens and cancer reminds us its still there. Still fucking with us.

Cant wait for us to fuck with the cancer back. Once we are out of hospital.

I just keep praying to the universe for tomorrow. For xmas. For more memories.

I love you so much. So much more than marzipan.

Xxx

Your pain was in control and your spirits less so

The best kind of day.

I am just heading home after a few days with you. At present, each day is an unknown territory. We take each day as it comes as we never know what pain may creep up. What feels you may feel and in some ways we have began feeling a bit more controlled by the cancer.

But on tuesday we had an onchology meet, and then had a lovely dinner with Linda before heading to the pictures to see Last Christmas with Emma Thomson and Emila Clarke and it was such a lovely afternoon. You smiled. You sung along to the Wham songs and you laughed at Emma Thomson and it made me so happy to see you happy. Living with cancer not being swept away by it.

Last night we watched some of our new fav show, The Crown and today. Today you woke up chirpy and dancing around. We headed to a hospital appointment where we waited 2hrs and once we got over the annoyance we were just grateful to have more time together. As we got back to the car and we saw the hazzard lights on, we knew. The car battery would be dead. On another day,on a pre cancer day, this truly would have been the end of the world. We would have both effed and blinded.

But instead, we laughed. We went for coffee and we sung along to Mariah Carey and I felt so lucky tobe with you being silly.

We talked about who we would have to dinner, dead of alive.

You old bat picked…

Maggie Smith, Oscar Wilde, David Attenborough, Judy Dench and Miriam Margoyles.

I chose Dawn French, Russel Brand, Bette Middler, Marilyn Monroe and Brene Brown.

We decided to put our tables together and meet up because what a laugh it will be.

We got home and watched another ep of The Crown before I headed back to see J.

There is so much guilt leaving you. A husband that will be there when your gone. Why do I need to head back. I worry what will happen between now and the next time I'm back and pray that we will have more days like these ones.

We booked my birthday dinner and a house to stay at christmas and I am so excited to live in sparkles and play christmas songs all day.

I wanted to just start noting down all the little things. the things we may forget.

We might forget the little moments when we talked about you seeing Poppa again and meeting mine and Js baby we never got to meet. We decided you may not feel feelings as such. Do feelings exist in the universe as energy. Or are you just love? We decided there would be lots of love cos you all would be there as love.

You promised, if you can, if thats the way it is, you will always try to make yourself present. To look out for robins and butterlys and smells.

We decided that I may just hear a quiet “bum” to let us know you are there and may have just farted.

You told me you called me Danielle cos you loved Danielle Steel novels (classy :) and that you nearly called me chloe cos it was your fav perfume.

We just talked. And got to know each other more even though we know each other so well and I love you so so so very much that although cancer has so many negatives, the positives it can bring, like the little things and the small moments that no matter how hard you try before something as awful and as dark as this happens in your life, you just don't appreciate until it does. I am grateful for these moments. In the darkness. To have all this love and light.

You are my person.

And I muat remember to tell people to look out for curved fucking nails. Of all the things.

I love you.

More than marzipan

Love Bobs

The days get quicker & the fear gets bigger

I can't bring myself to write on here lately. At the begining it helped a lot. But I felt full of hope and positivity and we were just flowing (not battling) the small cancer. We were optomistic. I wanted to talk about our optomism.

Then as times rushed away with us and the small cancer keeps trying to be bigger. I lose my hopefulness. And then I feel bad.

I still believe in miracles. I still believe in you mum. But I am scared. More than I have ever been in my life. More than when I did that bloody zipline on our honeymoon.

It scares me that I cannot comprehend a world without you. It scares me thst I will regret stuff. It scares me that we have no idea whats on the other side. It scares me that I wont be ok. It scares me that you're in so much pain. It scares me that I am not strong. Neither am I vulberable enough to grieve how I may need to.

I dont want to be angry at the cancer. Its not personal. We won't play victims. But at the same time. I dont know who I am angry at but I feel the bubbles of anger seeping out here and there.

I want to sit and watch endless netflix with you. I want to sit on the beach in white linen.

Everytime I visualise that. The beach. The sunset. The linen. I picture Beaches. I remember how sad I was when Debrah Hershy has her last few days on the beach. The pain in my throat as wind beneath my wings is sung by Bette Middler. And I cant help but think that that was such a poignant film. It wasnt so important to me cos it made me want to be an actress. But cos it was a warning. Or a preperation. A sign. It all seems a bit surreal.

As each day gets quicker and my fear gets bigger my love for you beats in my chest so solidly that sometimes I cant breathe.

I miss you and you're not even gone.

I think your eyes are beautiful

I've just stepped out of my 3rd breath work session.

Something about these classes open me up. Its like I see with clarity. The good. And also the fucking scary. Once the actual breathing part was over tonight, he asked us to picture something or someone we were so grateful for.

I pictured you mum. I pictured you and me huggung I pictured us crying together. I pictured your face.

The last few months I have forgotten the extremity of whats really going on. I truly have been waiting and believing in the miracle. Which thats not to say I have stopped believing in it. But I am becoming more aware that time is ticking along and one day I wont have you by my side.

I cant fathom that to be honest. The selfishness in me panics. Who will I have then? What one soul on this planet loves me the way you do? The truth. There isnt one. And my world shatters into tiny pieces at the idea that noone loves you as much as I do either. Of course nan loves you. Of course linda loves you. But Its me. Its us. Its always been us two. Even when I was throwing coke cans on the floor cos you wouldn't take me to that house party in Gerrards Cross where Barry would be. My new boyfriend. Its like you didnt understand the importance of me being at this party.

But I forgave you for saying no lol and you forgave me for throwing the can on the floor. After you pursed your lips and told me in that “I’m not mad I'm disappointed” kind of way, to clear up the mess.

Even through all that, we came out the other side.

I have never ever stopped loving you and you have never stopped loving me. And the fear. Is that that will get broken and cut off and spoilt and lost without our permission.

But todays breathing session gave me that reminder that you will never stop loving me and I will never stop loving you because love cant be measured or touched or broken. Not by cancer. Not by death. No by all the distance in the world.

When he told us to picture this person that we were so grateful for, I saw your face. Your wonderful face. And even though I see sadness or doubt in your eyes about who you are or uncertainty at whats to come. I see love.

I looked at your face and I thought. I hope my daughter has your eyes. I think you have pretty eyes and it broke my heart that you said noone had said that to you before. Thats ridiculous. I love your eyes. I want to see you in my daughters eyes. I saw your face and I thought. I want my daughter to have your nose. That nose you have never liked. I want my daughter to have it. Because your nose is lovely and its yours.

I want my daughter to have your passion, your wit, your abilty to express your anger when you needed to. Your strength you have shown. Your liberal, open, honest mind. I want my daughter to say she doesnt like watching violent movies because they are too violent. I want her to read and relish in loving her sleep like you do. I want my daughter to love like you do. Care like you do.

Cos although you think you are not a kind caring person I know you are. You have always done anything for me. You have stayed alive for me. You have always put me 1st and sometimes perhaps you should have put yourslef 1st.

I want my daughter to buy cards that mean something and send them or give them for just no reason other than to say she loves someone. I want my daughter to fart with her daughters huaband and laugh with him whilst watching Glow up together. I want my daughter to be as deep a thinker as you always were. To be super self aware and to always be curious about discovering herself.

I want my daughter to be like you. I know I know you will say “no you bloody dont” and you will reel off all the things I wont want her to be like. Dont do that. I am not just saying all this to romantasise who you are. You are a pain in the arse. You never believed in yourself enough. You never loved yourself the way you deserved. And I hope that now you are begining to. I hope that you are begining to see what I see. And whoever never saw it. They didn't look hard enough. And im sure. Im sure you made it hard for some people. Your insecurities made you guarded. Hold back. “seem" a particular way to particular people… well those arent your people.

I want my daughter to see all the things in her that you perhaps dont see in you. Just because you dont see them it doesnt mean they are not there or not true.

I want to remind you of everything you are. Every good thing you are. Cos whats in you is in me and whats in me is in you and I am pretty proud of who we are.

I am proud of our love.

So this is a reminder that I love your eyes. I love your nose. I love your face. Cos no other face knows our love like we do.

I love you xxx

Therapy session 11

When mum got diagnosed with the cancer I knew it was going to be tough. I knew I would inevitably struggle. I reduced my coaching hours and I stopped taking on more online clients for a bit. I then got preggo and then had a miscarraige. And again. I knew 2019 was not going to be as 2017 or 2018 had been. I knew it was going to suck. I knew I would need to see a therapist.

I've always loved the idea of therapy. I always wanted an excuse to go, but I never felt damaged enough. I didn’t think I was traumatised enough. I assumed it would be too high maintenance of me. Too dramatic. So when trauma happened. When the drama actually hit the fan. I felt justified to go.

And the very shit that held me back from starting therapy any sooner, was the very shit that is the forefront of our sessions. My fear of not being enough, off setted by my fear of being too much. It’s a head fuck. Always have been.

As the years has gone on. 6 months into mums diagnosis, i’ve had this feeling. This feeling of grattitude. That I still, despite this fuckery that is cancer and a miscarraige, that I love my life. The weirdness that life does just, inevitably carry on. I thought to myself “wait… this is meant to the worst year of my life" which of course. It is. But I thought it would “feel" worse. I thought i’d be in my bed eating ice cream covered in snot till the end of time. I begun to get quite proud of not letting it stop me in my tracks. I have been happy with how philosophical I am. Matched by my mum’s positivity about it all. We had this. We got this. We were strong and powerful and we were not going to let cancer steal our life, our joy, our time.

And then the therapist says (on repeat) “I don’t think you have processed this. I think you are desensitised, as is your mum” Ok. I think. “well I am just choosing to be grateful for what we DO have” time. Each other. Love.

“yes he says. And that’s great. IF you were digesting the actuality of what’s going on. You are grieving and yet you don’t look sad. Sad things are happening but you don’t express any feeling”

Que American Phycho thoughts. Omg. I’m null and void from emotion. I’m cold. I’m a serial killer 😭

I’ve spent years saying i’m emotional. I’m vulnerable. I’m open. I’m an empath. And this man is telling me i’m desensitised. And have been from a young age cos i’ve had people lead me to believe i’m “too much”

I sit there for 4 sessions not understanding. I AM emotional. I fucking am. Of course i’m sad. Look at me. Mum has stage 4 lung cancer and I am sad. It IS sad. Of course i’m sad…

The clock ticks as we sit there silently. He looks at me. Judging (without judgement) analysing me. I keep eye contact. Looking away would prove something to him. Know idea what, but I know it will give too much away. He will decide I am Christian Bale about to go on a rampage and section me. I keep looking back at him wondering who will give in 1st and look away, talk, breathe…

I accept my fate. I look away…

2 sessions later. After weeks between seeing if I am actually “feeling" anything. I say to him “I feel numb. I know I am sad up here” I point to my head. “but I don’t feel it here" I point to my stomach.

Tbh i’ve felt more anxiety than I have sadness the last few months. Which is my default apparently. I squash sadness and therefore over use something else. Anxiety my drugmotion of choice.

It’s sunk in. The realisation that perhaps i’m not doing as well as I assumed. I’m possibly not as philosophical as I imagined. I’m instead. Just good at blagging it. So much so i’ve blagged to myself.

Fuck.

The last 2 week’s have been interesting. Random moments where I catch my sadness. Most of the time I feel it. In my gut my heart and my head and then it’s gone as quickly as I notice it. But the more time goes on… the more these moments happen. And the longer the sadness stays with me. And there it is.

My fear that the sadness wont go away.

Mum seems to be getting more ill. But we can’t tell if it’s side affects of treatment Or if it’s the cancer. Is it side affects from the 20 thousand medications she’s on or is it the cancer? Why can’t someone fuxking tell us? Is the maintenance not infact maintaining it? So I don’t know. Is it the therapy that’s making me aware of my emotions, or is the reality of what’s actually going on, syncing in?

Maybe both.

This weekend. My business I run with my friend, Kettleboobs was at Happy Place. Ferne Cottons festival and it was such a wonderful event for us. It was right up our street. Our ethos and our vibe. Our mission as a company is to remind everyone that we are unique, one of a kind and imperfectly perfect. Just like our boobs. We want people to find Joy in their differences. To be accepting and kind to ourselves and enjoy our imperfect tits, imperfect lives and our imperfect stories.

Mum came today. In pain. Her chest hurts. Her legs hurt. She was in tears last night In pain. But she came. Because life goes on. Like Lauren Mohon reminded us today in her beautifully articulated talk. When she got the news she was dying, she knew she had to start living. Which is what mum says. And living doesnt have to be climbing mount Kilimanjaro but perhaps, just sitting in the sun watching inspiring people talk on stage at a festival. It made me so happy to see my mum out and fighting her fears. She went and spoke to Jonny after his talk. A fear she fought and did it anyway

I got emotional as Lauren came over to mum and gave her a hug cos she knew mum was a fan. She took the time to chat and make the effort. It’s like a connection you have with cancer. An understanding. She got it. She got my mum's pain. Her thoughts. Her fear.

There is nothing worse than seeing your mum be vulnerable, goin through something like this. 11 therapy sessions down. The emotion of that keeps overwhelming me. But listening to people like Lauren and Bowel babe and thrivers of cancer, you feel so much more supported. You feel less alone. Less lost.

So this is a massive thank you to Lauren. For making mum feel, I dunno, alive… for giving her a hug and taking the time. You are a true gem.

Please go support Lauren. Her insta girlsvscancer is bloody awesome. Her energy is so fucking awesome and catching and it’s a wonderful cause.

So i’m on my way home, writing about how I’m feeling (my therapist will have a field day) As I like to discuss how i’m feeling as a distraction to the actual feels. He says. But fuck it. If i don’t write about it. And I don’t express it. I’ll burst.

So whilst I may not quite be there in being IN my feelings. I’m learning. I’m trying to find my way to let the sadness be. But at the moment. I am just in grattitude. For my mum. For our time. For our love. For the connections we are making. For this weekend. For the talks. For the sunshine. For friends. For not letting cancer stop her. Stop us. And just be grateful for this. What we do have.

I can cry tomorrow. Today. As Jen Pastiloff says “We have done love”

Viva Forever: The Spice Girls Day Out

It's been a long long time since either of us wrote. I'm still not sure why the writing has become harder for me. For mum, well she will tell you another day, but I think the chemo takes you away some place other than this world. Like a weird haze of a world. For four months mum hasn't felt "normal" which at the time panics you. What if the cancer/chemo has taken her forever? What if there is not a "normal" again? 

Mum's last round of strong chemo finished 3 weeks ago. She had two horrid days, a few less horrid and then the rest. Normal. Fucking normal. Which honestly, you just don't realise how much you would miss "normal" and rejoice it so much when it returns.  

Her appetite was back. Her want for food like Hagen Daz or just a normal take away was back. For a foody, who lost her want for these things, it was tough going. So to get them back gave her back part of her.  

For a while, when you don't know what normal is anymore, when you are unsure of who you are, what's coming, where you will be in the future, all plans you are making feel loose. Or hesitant.  

3 days before mum was diagnosed with the cancer, I had given her, her "mum of the bride" gift to say thank you (for being her) and her help with the wedding. Two premium standing tickets to see our fav band, The Spice Girls.  

There were moments I remember thinking "well this will all be over by then. June. It's so far away. Then moments when you think, "fuck, will we get to June? Will she make it?" And then moments you realise she may just be two ill to even get out of bed. And that stung. Because there was noone else I waned to go see the spice girls with. Noone at all in the entire world.  

But, some magic happened. Mum's chemo sessions fell so that at one point she would be in week 3 on the spice girls week. Her best week before returning for chemo. Then it worked out,  via changes cos of white blood cells it would fall on week 1 or 2 (not ideal) As we've said. There is no certainty with the cancer. Then we were told mum would only have 4 bouts of strong chemo and not 6. And the way that worked out, spice girls would fall 3 weeks post the last round and so the universe did its magic and last Saturday was made a reality. 

To even explain what that magic was. We can't. If I could try to explain how rough & lost mum felt just a few weeks before, I can't. To try and describe what The Spice Girls meant to us. Again, I can't.  

All I can tell you is that Girl Power has never ever meant more to us than it does now.  

Mum came over the day before and we got our lashes done. Ridonculously overpriced, but eff it, it was the Spice Girls and we wanted to make the effort. We had a yummy dinner the night before and in the morning after I went to the gym and got mi nails done, we begun getting ready.

Again, that felt so lovely. We danced around listening to a playlist of Spice Girl songs whilst J (my hubby) cooked us some lunch and let us do our girly thing. I then sat and did mums make up and I don’t know why but that felt so precious. I notice that I feel so protective of her now. I am so aware of how she is vulnerable and it makes me sad, I don’t want her to feel vulnerable or weak or tainted by this cancer. Luckily she has for the most part, not let it, but I just feel like I need to protect and look after her more than ever. I hate it that she doesn’t live with me and that she is an hour away (luckily only an hour) but I feel safe when she is at mine. I feel comfortable and safe. So doing her make up for her made me feel even closer to her and I wanted to make her feel beautiful. I wanted her to feel at home in her body even though she had an uninvited guest. I wanted her to feel comfy and secure when her whole world is not.

I have to say, I think she looked so gorg. I know chemo can do such awful things to peoples skin and teeth and you can lose your hair. All things we didn’t know whether would happen. And mum counts her lucky stars her side affects so far haven’t been extreme. Her nausea has been, but she hasn’t lost her teeth, they seem the same, her skin hasn’t gone overly washed out or dry her hair has thinned but not fallen out. She is grateful for all of that as I think the side affects can weaken your resolve even more.

We decided to get an Uber and we ended up being their really early. So we decided to get some food at BoxPark and soak in the energy (there was a lot of energy :)

We got some non alcoholic slush puppies and then some coffee and we just had, time. Time to be present. We are both quite late people so it was enjoyable to just be there Waiting to go in.

We had been anxious (well I had been) that she was going to get tired quickly and we had standing tickets. I was worried she would catch something around all these people. I was worried that she would feel sick and we would have no space for air or room to breathe.

When we got into the stadium, and we walked into the premium standing tickets we had a sigh of relief. There wasn’t a crazy amount of people, mum felt great and energised and there was air and space and… and… we were so fucking close to the stage that we nearly wet ourselves. If I have ever been grateful for spending more money than planned, it was then.

We waited about 15 minutes and then the buzz began to build. The girls were going to come out soon. I may have even pooped a little bit.

People don’t often get my obsession with The Spice girls. My friends from back home love R&B music and whilst we are all fans of garage, (my late teen years will always be with that music) but my first taste of music that “I” liked (accept for Oasis and Alaanis Morrisette) was The Spice Girls. I remember clearly being age 11 and dancing in my room to their album. I remember the books and memorising their birthdays. I waned to dress like Geri and I bought myself Buffulos and orange crop tops so I could emulate their vibe. It is just such happy memories for me, probably my most as that was the last time before I became self concious. Of who i was and what my body looked like. The Spice Girls for me, were the last ti,e (till I was like 30) that I felt good being “me”

But most of all I remember this. I remember thinking “these girls are just normal. They are like me. They dont have “all” the singing talent, but fuck, it didnt matter. I didn’t care. Who cared. They had this energy and this charisma and this power. I remember thinking, if they can do what they do and then go on to achieve what they can, I could. All you needed was some self belief and some girl power. I remember that feeling so so so vividly that it has always kept me obsessed with them. Even when everyone decided to hate them once I was in year 9. Britney was the new pop star and some friends had started listening to more indie pop.

I however bought all their albums, even the 3rd awful one “Hola”

As the years went on I can’t really explain to you, but they always had this massive space in my heart and when they did their reunion tour at the o2 back over 10 years ago, me and mum went then too. Mum grew up with me loving them, mum loved them just as much.It was our thing. Just mine and hers.

Talking in therapy about mum, I always become very aware of how she is my person. Like my only person. Of course I have friends, a wonderful husband, other family too. But I don’t have a dad I grew up with. I don’t have siblings. I don’t have anyone else I shared my day in days outs with from birth to the time I moved out aged 24. It was always her and me. It was noone else. Not even her husband who came along when I was 14, could take that away. And whilst yes it was hard, the three of us, me and mum came out the other side. Closer. Because I trusted noone like my mum. I also realise, I don’t feel like there is anyone on earth that loves me or likes me more than her. Of course I doubted that for a second when she found a man, but as I grew up and grew wiser, It became clear, that of course she bloody liked me. She adored me. And the further into therapy I get I have this overwhelming impending doom that when she goes (dear universe take your effing time) I will be left. Alone. With noone backing my corner the way she does. Noone calling me out on my shit like she does. Noone cheering me on from the sidelines or being there as a shoulder to cry on, as she does. I know for a fact I have a block on what this really means. I write this and I have no tears. They come unexpectedly. Like the other day when J had a dig that I spilt choc on the sofa. I burst out crying and felt immediately sad about mum. But as I mention it, talk about it, say these sad things, I feel blocked from these emotions,

My therapist says its because I have built up a defense. I overuse anger and anxiety and distract from my sadness.

I don’t have much else to say on the matter right now. I don’t know how to change it currently, accept to let the tears come when they come, even if it’s at the last ep of Game of Thrones. I irrationally cried at how shit the ending was when really, I am sure, it wasn’t really about John Snow calling Mother of Dragons Dani and Bran the Broken being named the King. But still. At least I got some tears out.

Getting to share these bucket list moments with my mum is probably the best thing I will do with my life. I can’t imagine not sharing this time with her. These experiences. We got to see The Spice GIrls and we were basically like 4 metres away. I got to sing Mama along with my Mama and watch as all my childhood nostalgia played back to me live, in 3D colour with mum at my side who had shared my love for them since day one. We had that. We got to do that. The cancer couldn’t take that away from us. And oddly enough, the cancer made it better. More real. More prominent. More needed. More exciting. More fulfilling. More special. I know the cancer gets a bad rep. It really is shitty. But, as shitty as it is, there are some pros. You look at the world differently. You look at life differently. You look at each other differently.

I look at my mum with so much more respect and pride than I ever have. She has no idea how proud I am of her. If there was ever a time where she showed me how to be human, how to do hard things, how to not let something awful ruin the life you do have, Its NOW. I have never ever wanted to be more like my mum. The ultimate Spice Girl.

Viva Forever.

It was a tough week... and then it wasn't.

I started writing this blog titled "it's been a rough week" last week. It was mums day 1 to day 12 post chemo no' 3 and it was hard. Least hard for me. As my aunt was the one looking after her and then mum was the one going through it, but there is something about being far away from it that makes it so hard too. Not being able to help. Not being able to see how bad she is. Not being able to just sit with her. So at the end of her bad bout of post chemo hell she came to stay with me for a few days and it was so lovely to have her. 

This chemo round had wiped her. It made her so very nauseous that she couldn't even listen to podcasts or watch telly. Which makes her feel shit as it is. I can't imagine feeling held hostage to just your bed on a normal day let alone when u feel life is passing you by and you don't have as much time. So not only do you feel so sick you don't wanna talk to anyone, you can't eat, it's hard to take your medication. You then just feel like you are doing nothing. You are just here. Worse than existing and before mum had got cancer, that had been her fears. Just existing. So when she got cancer she decided "fuck that shit, I'm gonna live" and then chemo said "ha, not right now you are not"

So the words touched her lips "I don't think I can do this" and my biggest fears rose in my throat sitting there waiting to spew out. "Mum's gonna give up, mums gonna give up and I have to be ok with it. I cannot be angry"  

But I was angry. But anger is surely fear coming out in a way that I know how to express. I know how to be angry. Well. Spent my teens being the best angry person so I feel I have that common pattern down. But really. I was just scared.  

There's a whole heap of understanding I have in this situation but selfishly, my 14 year old self wants to stomp my feet and say try harder. You CAN do this. Do NOT give up. For me. For me you cannot give up.  

But that's not fair, although granted, I don't think many other people would feel anything different. I'm not beating myself up. But I still don't think its fair.  

But... day 12 13 14 she felt better. And on day 16 as she drove home from mine in London, back to sunny slough, she felt... normal. She messaged to say she had a glorious drive back and the sun had been shining and she felt normal. Not like a cancer patient. Not Ill. Not surviving. Just normal. And my heart skipped a beat and I breathed.

You don't realise you are not breathing until you do again.  

Day 17 18 19 that followed have been "normal" too. No grand plans of taking over the world and climbing Everest of running a marathon. Fuck that. Currently she is basquing in the glory of normal life and I couldn't be more pleased. Having a cuppa with her best mate, then having Chinese with her other bessie. Then reading books and watching TV. Coming to mine for a roast last night like our good ol Sunday's we used to have regularly. It all felt blissfully normal.  

I think there is a lot of pressure when you are given a time that's tick ticking away, to go out into the world and "do" but really, all you wanna do when you feel like "you" has been stripped away, is just "be"  

Mum doesn't need to take over the world. Well not just yet :) She needs to just be. Being isnt existing. Being "content" versus being unhappy for me seems to be the difference between living and existing. If you can be content and grateful with your lot. With the car ride home as the sun shines on your face, then you don't have to stress about "doing" anything. But I'm sure, whilst you are spending your days missing that feeling of the sun on your face or the simple act of having a cuppa with your oldest friend, then you miss the magic cos you are worrying about what you "should be doing" and that, that is not living. 

Mum's always said the cancer is hear to teach her (us) something. It's not happening "to" her but it's happening "for" and as each stage passes you do realise there is so much to discover and learn. About life, about relationships and dynamics and strength and being "you" Not all the lessons are nice, or fun. Some are so painful I'd like to bury my head in the dirty, muddy pitt that is cancer.  

But you don't. You can't. And instead mum is teaching me to embrace it all. She has no idea how wonderful she has always been. Anything good in me is from her. And I am so proud of everything she is. I think she thinks I want her to become something else. Something extraordinary but I just want her to be her, and to be happy being her. Cos she is extraordinary already.  

Now we brace ourselves for chemo no" 4 and armour up for the shitty bit but know that there is sunshine at the other side. We can't wait for the sunshine.

🌝 

I didn't realise cancer would...

Feel so easy some days and then so so hard on others. 

It would cause so much uncertainty.  

It would make me go back on beliefs and things I thought I was solid on like "I would force mum to eat a seriously healthy diet and avoid dairy and meat and processed foods" when in reality I just need her to eat. Anything. Anything at all.  

I didn't realise it would have days it would make me and mum less close. That we would fight.  

That it would have us on different pages.  

I didn't realise it would make mum feel so so sick. (Nieve of me yes)  

I didn't realise her hair thinning would make me so so sad. For her. Like it makes me feel so scared for her.  

Seeing her so vulnerable would break my heart. 

I didn't realise mum may want to give up. I imagined she would juat always be up for the fight. But some days are so hard it makes her question it.  

I did not realise that it would not make me angry or feel hard done by. I assumed I would spend the whole time goin "why us why?" But it's left me more casual about it. That this is life. And I worry that I have become one of those cold hearted bitches that thinks "well of course... this is life bad shit happens" Which is fine. As long as I remember good shit happens too.  

I didn't realise it would strip mum of some of her words. That she wouldn't know what to say or feel. Is that the cancer or the chemo? 

I don't think you realise how strong you can be. But also how weak it makes you when you least expect it. 

I didn't realise how much more it would make me love my mum.  

So much more than marzipan!  

xxx

A bit lost

It's been ages since I wrote. 

Since any of us wrote.  

Possibly because we are tired. Or the immediate "umphy" spark has gone out. Or just cos normal life roughly ensues. As much as it can.  I don't know.  

Last week was a good week though. I don't want to skip that bit. Mum's fundraiser made over £1000 and the day was a complete success. And theb the day after we were told mums tumour had shrunknand that she was responding to the chemo well. We were ecstatic. The response could have been that the tumour didn't spread or grow. It could have also been a negative and that it had continued to grow. But instead. It shrunk. We rode on that high for the day. Maybe the next. But the darkness comes back sometimes. Mum's grey cloud snuck its way back in. 

The chemo is making her feel very low. The chemo or the cancer or just life. We don't know. But she's feeling nauseous a lot and her joy of food has gone. Which as a fellow foodie, is horrendous.  

I'm finding it harder and harder because of course, I don't know how it feels. I don't know if Im pushing too hard when I try and get her to eat or go for a walk. I don't know if she is unwilling or unable, and that is difficult to navigate. I end up feeling like an ogre, forcing her to try and think positive. To try and do something other than lay in bed. I just cant take it that the cancer or the chemo can strip the living you waned to do and make existing seem even worse. It hurts me so much to see her so low.  

I'm also aware that selfishly it is my own triggers about not getting enough done in life. Not making some radical statement to the cancer or to the world that "we will not take it lying down" I want this to be a moment in time where we defy the odds and I can't imagine that when all this is over she is just another stat. Another number. Another one lost to cancer. In my heart I need to know we put our soul and heart into trying. Yet I'm not a great tryer. I'm a procrastinator  that's my story. And the more I see mum not doing, the more my own fears about my own life shine brighter. Which isn't fair.  

There's a weird family dynamic too. We all want the same thing for mum but we all deal with her differently. We all have very different relationships with her and that is hard. It's hard for mum as she feels so much guilt for all of us. That makes me sad. I don't want her worrying about anyone else. She worries so much and worrying is such a waste of time.  

She's so quiet lately. I grew up with mum who was a loud, opinionated, chatty, charismatic person. We both share the complex of fearing we are "too much" but she never was too much. Not for her people. To her people She is funny. And witty and when comfortable the light in a room.

But when she is self concious and not with her people her spark gets dulled somewhat. She said that just when we found out the cancer. The last couple of years she has withdrawn slightly. But the cancer news crazily seemed to bring her back. Her old self shone through. She was excited about not letting cancer win.

But as the weeks have gone on the chemo seems to fill her with self doubt, possible self pity, sadness and uncertainty and it breaks my heart. I don't know how to cope with it all. Some days I feel like I'm bloody coping so well. I don't cry anymore. I feel like everything makes sense. And then I come to write and I realise I'm not ok. But I don't know how to cry anymore. I don't know how to not be ok. How to express my fear or sadness. I feel cut off from my own emotions. I just feel like I have some bubbling in my throat but they don't know where to go which feels suffocating. 

I can't visualise at the moment. The last month I can't picture mum in here field of daffodils breathing in love. The picture is blurry and that scares me.  

Today's I feel like I don't know how to even go and coach 2 clients. I don't know how I will be there for Kettleboobs and organise Women's Health Live. I don't know how to grow my business and post on insta. I don't know how to show up for my online clients. I feel quite useless. Actually it's the 1st time in 3 months that I feel at loss and that I don't know how to jazz this feeling up with positives.  

I don't like to be self pittying. I find it so unattractive. I'm not good with the "victim" mode. Probably cos I spent my teens and twenties being one. I don't want to go back.  

But I feel totally lost today.  

Life will never be the same and you get your head around it and day to day you think "ya know what,I've actually got this" and then out the blue there is just suddenly a bit of a panic.  

I'm not being the ideal daughter right now. The ideal wife. The ideal coach. The ideal friend. No-one expects me to be. No-one at all. What does "ideal" even mean. But The feeling inside me feels totally not ideal. 

I didn't sleep well last night. It could be that. I haven't eaten many vegetables lately. It could be that. I didn't train yesterday or walk anywhere. It could be that. I have those structures in place for a reason. They help me mentally. So this is a reminder to  

Eat my veg 

Walk  

Sleep

Work out  

Also a reminder I'm going to have to be honest and explain to people. I actually don't think I'm doing well. Maybe just today. Or maybe for a bit longer. But texting back, emailing, even socialising is feeling a bit impossible. I literally know tomorrow I will feel different. But today. Today I just need time alone!