**I realise that this is an ‘unscheduled’ blog post but when I set up this blog it was so that I could have a place to vent and that is what I need to do now. So you can feel free to skip this post as it would probably be of no interest to anyone. Normal posts will resume after my QFA exam.**
When my Nana died I knew it would hit me hard. If only I had realised how hard or that it would affect me more four years later than it did when it happened. Not that there would have been a lot I could do. It would still have happened.
I am never one to talk about my feelings or things that upset me. This blog was meant to help me do that yet in the excitement of becoming a ‘blogger’ I forgot that that’s what it was here for. To be honest when I went for counselling after my Nana died I barely even talked about my Nana, instead I blathered on about other crap. Perhaps I should have known then that problems would arise.
Now my Nana’s death affects me in a number of ways. Two main ways though.
The first is that I am missing things a lot more. Things I never thought I would miss. Like how my Nana made coddle or how good she could make soup from a packet. Things I will never again get to taste and it really makes me miss her and wish I had valued her more and bloody thought more of the things she did for me. You don’t realise until something is gone, how much you wish it was still here and how you should have made a better effort to indulge it whilst it existed.
While I can’t bring my Nana back I can do what I used to do, every so often, in her house and look through old photo albums which we thankfully have in our shed here in my house.
The other thing way I am affected is perhaps a much more detrimental one, and one I find it hard to describe. It is like I get into fits of rage over the littlest thing and I just SNAP. This might not be too bad but it’s always the most important person that this happens around. My boyfriend. Now he thinks it is a reflection on him but it isn’t. I have done this with anyone I have gotten close to over the past few years. Although with him it happens less often but it can be so severe. I go off on one and fight him until I walk out, dump him or say something so mean that I may as well have dumped him. Lately it hasn’t happened but when it does it is so bad. If I take a few minutes outside to breathe I normally calm down and come to my senses but normally this only happens when I storm out and the damage is already done.
I adore Danny and this is not something I want to do to him. Yet it’s like I can’t control it, like I am possessed. And I am powerless to stop it. I recently did it again after it having not happened for a few weeks, I had earlier reflected on it and obviously jinxed myself, after the row I asked Danny why he thought it happened and he remarked that maybe good things scare me. I am beginning to see that he may be right, although perhaps it is more that I am afraid of going through another loss.
I just wish I could fix it. He doesn’t deserve it and to be honest neither do I. There was a time when I thought maybe I was being manipulated into thinking I was in the wrong but I have realised I always am in the wrong. And I don’t deserve to go through a heartbreak I engineered. But how do I stop it when it is a force I am powerless toward…