One week

I'm staying up a bit later tonight, out of choice.  Inevitably I think back to exactly one week ago, when we both sat up late, watching all those late-night shows on the food channels on TV.  At that time, there was no indication what the next 24 hours would bring.  I didn't know that my mum would end up in hospital.  Last Monday night, we ended up watching an old Hairy Bikers show about Belgium, and I pointed out the places which faithful travelling companion and I had visited on our recent trip to Brussels.  24 hours ago tonight, I was the one who was unwell; off sick from work due to a horrible chest infection, struggling to breathe and coughing every minute.  How things change.

Among my friends there is this underlying narrative of worry, given that I had a bit of a breakdown, for want of a better word, last year.  I guess that there is this worry that I may fall apart and sink into the deepest of deep depressions again, with all that brings.  But I somehow don't think I will; I need to hold onto that hope.

One of my best friends said that "the first year would be the worst".  But there is no time limit on grief.  There are those 'milestones': notably Christmas, which popped into my head the other day. Should I forget all about it?  Or should I put up the tree which was much-loved by both of us?  That's for another day.

As ever, I'm finding a lot of solutions on the good old internet, and my connection is like a lifeline to another, more "normal" world which temporarily distracts me and stops me thinking about how miserable and empty I feel.  Of course blogging is the most therapeutic thing I can do, and I think that once 'all this is over' I will throw myself into my hobbies and interests.

The other thing I am going to do, all being well, is to return to work full-time after a 6 month trial period of part-time hours.  I'm going to have a lot of my time on my hands from now on, so I need to fill it constructively.