Grief, ED recovery, Mental Health and all the lovely things that give my Sisyphean rock meaning
Imagine sitting in the metaphorical waiting room for therapy, convinced your name will never be called. Then suddenly, it is — and an hour later, you’ve had massive realisations about grief, silence, and finding yourself again. My first grief therapy session was unexpectedly eventful, and it’s just the beginning.
I still visit you through your blog, your home in the digital world. The world got darker when you left, but you’re still a constant guiding light. I light this candle for you — not as a goodbye, but as a hello again. You’re always with me. I miss you.
Grief is a wave function. It runs in the background, unseen, until it collapses. I held mine off for years to be strong for my son. But after 2023, it caught up with me — and I’m still petrified. Grief, love, fear — it’s all tangled. And this isn’t even everything.
Frankie Frog, my son’s Build-a-Bear, became a harbinger of connection during a dark year of grief and relapse. We threw him a birthday party with cake, sandwiches, and Froggy wine. He’s more than a plushie — he’s comfort, chaos, and a reminder that love and joy persist, even through the fog.
As I approach my 41st birthday, I reflect on the complexities of life: grief from losing my best friend, WeeGee, and ongoing battles with mental illness. Birthdays remind me of love lost and the importance of healing, which is not about curing but living amidst struggles. My journey continues, intertwined with memories and resilience.
I went shopping in Marks & Spencer today with my teen. We were there to pick up some treats after our Specsavers adventure, and as I looked into the sandwich fridge through the crowd of work people frantically grabbing their meal-deal lunches, there it was — the Turkey Feast sandwich, in all its festive glory. …
Continue reading Be More Kind – Grief and The Battle of the Corporate Festive Sandwiches
Absurd Universe 