Four Years Ago

Four years ago. Four whole years have passed. In some ways it feels like yesterday, in other ways it feel like a life time ago. A different life. A different life, yesterday. If I sit and think about that day, I can feel the pain, it’s still raw, the wounds have not healed. Just the memory of how I felt can hurt too, can make me catch my breath, can bring a lump to my throat and tears to my eyes, remembering that day and how I felt on that day. How I felt when I was a completely different person to the Stacey I am today. The memories are painful, a real pain, that I feel in my stomach and in my heart. I still find it hard to believe that that time in my life was real, that it actually happened. I sometimes struggle to think of Martin as a real person now. Sometimes I can’t remember what his voice sounded like, other days I can hear him loud and clear. Sometimes I can’t quite picture his face, other times every last detail of his face haunts me. 

It is a crazy life I live, flitting between the past and the present. It’s not the life I would choose. I would definitely choose what I have now, but how I would love to choose a different past. But this crazy life is one I’ve been living for four whole years today. A survival, a battle, a damaged life. Four years of hurting. Four years of rebuilding.

I won’t tell my children that it is the anniversary of their daddy’s death. They don’t need to know. I won’t let them see the tears that I will inevitably shed, I shall do it alone, I shall let the memories consume me, but I won’t show that they have - I’m getting good at that, I’ve spent four years perfecting it.

Four years ago today Martin committed suicide and four years ago today I began the survival of suicide bereavement. It’s been quite a journey.


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