I want to write, I find it incredibly therapeutic but what I want more than anything is to help others. I want to be able to offer comfort to those who need it, to offer first hand experienced advice and to just be there. It was a dark and lonely place I found myself in back in 2014 and it breaks my heart to think others are left in that place too. If our story can help somebody see that although the path is windy, bumpy and painful now, in time it will get straighter, smoother and easier - then I’ll have achieved what I am setting out to do. I don’t want anybody to ever feel alone. Suicide grief is a complicated grief with so many unanswered questions, nobody should ever have to deal with that on their own.

Today is Martin’s birthday. The fourth one since he left us. So today I’m launching my blog, a blog about our life since he ended his. Martin committed suicide 4 years ago in July. He left behind four beautiful girls - the youngest two being our children. Isla was 5 years old and Martha was just 22 months old. I was left alone, traumatised, overwhelmed and completely unprepared.

If I’m completely honest, I hadn’t realised that it was his birthday until I saw memories on social media. Is that awful? I felt awful. How could I not have known? But maybe it’s a blessing to have forgotten? Maybe by being oblivious,  the nightmares didn’t have a reason to rear their head? Maybe it’s kinder to have been spared the worry and the anxiety of the build up?  Maybe it’s a huge positive to focus on; my life isn’t dictated by anniversaries anymore? I don’t know, I just know I felt awful, I felt the pang of  guilt and sadness in the pit of my stomach. I felt guilty for his older children, they hadn’t been spared the memories, the build up, the sadness upon waking up this morning.. I on the other hand had been singing away cheerfully focusing on the bright sunny day that awaited me and my (also oblivious) children. They have never known when his birthday was, they’ve never asked so I’ve never told them. Is that wrong? I feel like this every birthday, I wonder, should I tell them? But I always decide that no, no I shouldn’t. I want to spare them the sadness whilst I can. In time I am sure they will ask, they may remember, they may choose to mark it down on the calendar and I am ok with that. But for now, they don’t know and I feel like they don’t need to know. We can mark the anniversary subtly - maybe this evening we’ll share a memory or two that make us smile, we’ll sing a silly song he used to sing and the children will smile and laugh and be happy. And when they’re tucked up in bed fast asleep and Martin’s birthday is almost over, then perhaps I’ll give them an extra kiss goodnight, a slightly longer ‘tickle on the back’ in his memory.


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