I haven’t been sleeping nights, and it’s leaving me unbalanced and drained, so a friend suggested I get back to writing, so I thought I would try, and write, just write, no correcting no proof reading, just type what I felt while I’m writing, so that’s what I’m doing. Might not make sense, so I apologies beforehand.
A couple days ago I needed to go to the shop, so I went out got what I needed to get and walked out the shop, I was crossing the road not even concentrating on the road, next thing I know a car is literally touching the fabric of my dressing gown and someone was blaring the horn repeatedly to get my attention, and you know what, in that moment, my heart didn’t start beating faster, I was not scared or afraid, I simply didn’t feel anything in that moment expect for annoyance, this stranger making so much noise, and I just carried on walking to my flat, as if nothing had happened. My doctor has asked me a couple times if I was feeling suicidal, if I needed any drugs to help me sleep or get through the day, and to be honest, I can’t give her a straight answer. I think about it about really, taking my own life, wondering what I’m meant to do in this world if I can’t be the person I use to be, a mother to the most beautiful child. My existence is insignificant in my eyes, I am nothing. I guess the only thread that’s holding me back is a small ounce of faith, faith that if I am a good person in this world, in the next I will be reunited with my baby, however at different times I think, what if, what if I’m not good enough, do as many good things as I can in a short space of time and then end it, that’s not right is it? That’s not the way it’s meant to be. Nothing is the way it’s meant to be.
Everyone is always saying to be oh your so lucky you have such a supportive family, and I thank God for them, but they are not my family, my intimate family, a man, a woman, children, close friends. That’s their family, I feel like an outsider. Barren. Being stripped of literally everyone I was closest too. And it hurt me but I didn’t mind, I had my baby, I had my boy, and now I don’t. And this burning pain in my body just feels as if it’s crushing all my insides repeatedly, day in day out.
Sometimes it feels like I’ve been feeling this pain for years upon years, this anguish feels so familiar, a lasting ache from the tips of my hairs to the nerves in my bones, but then again at the same time it feels so fresh, as if it’s the first time I heard the doctor call time of death, all over again.
Everyone is always asking how I’m doing, how I’m feeling and I say I’m fine or I’m okay alhamdulillah (praise be to God), but I’m not I haven’t slept during the night since it happened, I physically have to force food down my throat so that I don’t pass out, most of the time I just want to go outside in front of the fastest moving car or swallow a bunch of sleeping pills and be done with it all.
My child was literally my everything, he was everything to me. My world revolved around him, I fixed myself up so I can be the best mother for him. I loved him more than life itself, what I wouldn’t do to have him in my arms again. I’d give anything, to have his smell or his touch or for him to call me Mummy one more time