TOO MUCH TIME TO THINK

27/08/12

It is true that you have to keep your mind active to avoid demons but grief makes you lazy. It makes you unapproachable and sometimes angry. 

Speaking for myself i know it made me irrational. 

I get very upset and blow things out of proportion, 'making mountains out of molehills.'

I feel that there is so much change in my family in days of late that i dont feel like to same person. Everything fell apart. 

At my brothers funeral, there were family members we hadnt seen for years, all made the journey to show their love for him and i remember my cousin saying "Look at all these people, only Scott could have got these people in the same room together.' 

It was lovely and although my snottered tear stained face made it impossible for me to speak to half of them, i still appreciated their presence. 

While they showed the slideshow of his photos at the reception type thing afterwards, Cameron sat holding my hand. I hadn't seen Csameron in, i dont know how long. 

He was about 8 years older than me, had been a gangly teenager reading me Dr Seuss when i was little, yet here he was, a grown man, sharing my grief, with this arms around me, cradling me while I couldnt breathe. 

I remember someone asking me how Weightwatchers was going. 

I wanted to punch her face in but instead I 'smiled' and nodded. 

People were awkward and didnt know what to say. 

Just afterwards, my uncle said 'Oh yeah, your hairs red now. What kind of dye did you use?" 

Anything to fill the silence. 

BUt for me, silence was essential. 

Mundane talk was belittling the fact he was dead. 

I could never make up my mind about whether i should go and see him or not.

It tooks almost 2 weeks before we were able to have his funeral, and i went to see him the night before. 

Im glad I did to a certain respect. It emphaised his 'gone-ness' I know thats not a word but i cant think of a better way to describe that he simply wasnt in that body anymore. 

That day i was hysterical but the only time i didnt cry that day was when I was sitting with him. 

I went alone. 

What happened with him is something ill keep to myself. 

I had my time alone with him ad that was something i'll be grateful for i think. 

I was terrifiied before i walked in that room, havent been so scared in my life but when i looked at him, it made me realise that its my brother, he is my one constant,  the only person i have known every day of my life and i knew every line on his face. 

There is nothing to be scared of. 

I sat there for i dont know how long, giving him things to take with him and telling him things. 

Anyway, like my dad says, the body is a vessel and there was nothing  left in  there. 

For a long time, i cried myself to sleep. In fact, it still happens but maybe only 3 times a week now instead of 7. 

The way of finding out about him being gone haunted me and so did the funeral. 

For a long time, I could only remember him as being very young and couldnt remember him lately. It was too painful. 

For my mum it was the opposite way around. She couldn't think of him as a little boy, she tried like me but couldnt. 

I suppose the body deals with things the best they can and in order to cope, they block things out. 

i'm off work today and with that brings too much time to think. 

I have no idea what to do today. 

Someone shouted at me last week because i dont feel like going out with friends. 

Surely that's up to me?? 

I do my best with what ive got. I cant do anymore than that