I do want to write a post. I do write one nearly every day, I just don’t make it public. It was a lot easier to express my thoughts, my anger, my sadness, my emotions, when Tom was in hospital and soon after he came home. Now it is so hard. I think I know why. I moved from surviving to existing. And I think existing is harder to express.
My emotions still wreak havoc at the most inappropriate times, and its harder now than before because I had the top excuse then! My memory is so shot – a severe side effect of a trauma, I have since learnt, but it’s hard to explain that all the time, and tedious. I seem to have lost the ability to “care” about trivial things – still not sure if this is not such a bad thing, but it’s a big change for me. I have this thought process that occurs in lightening speed when a tricky situation is presented to me – “go for it – you may not be able to do it tomorrow”. It’s almost obsessive. My house is a tip – s0mething you would never have seen before, but now seems so minor in the scheme of things.
Golly so much has happened, so much. I visited a very special friend in ICU a while ago and had to almost literally pull myself out of my body and push myself through the doors, PTSD hitting me like that trusty cricket bat used to in the first few months. The thing that got me the most was the telephone at the nurses station had the same ring tone.
I was riding the other day and could see in the distance a vehicle recently smashed up. Cricket bat to the chest again.
Tom phoned today to say that he was feeling alot better after a nasty cold. Remember he can’t cough and we have to physically push his chest at the same time as he forces air out of his mouth. He mentioned the word pneumonia. Tears. Cricket bat. Chest. Now when Tom was in hospital it would have been easy for me to say that pneumonia is probably what would have killed him. Now I can’t say it. Or did I just?
Christmas came and went, emotionally, I wrapped all the presents, alone late at night,tipped toed around, made sure Father Xmas was fed and beered, something Tom and I used to giggle together doing.
New Years was a scream, spent with our closest friends. We made it till just before sun rise! Loads of laughing and banter. Wow a simple hug from Tom would have made it perfection. Bloody cricket bat!
Tom has had his birthday. What the hell do you buy? Lots of cheese and wine wrapped up in a basket! But spent with wonderful people. I still get choked up when I see the men kissing Tom’s forehead – the new hand shake.
Tom and Ciara play chess on his iPad for hours and he is now teaching a bunch of girls at their school how to play one afternoon a week. No cricket bat here…… just awe.
I do want to write a proper post.. And I will. And I’ll put pictures.