crying eyes out, head pounding, dehydrated, been in the same outfit for 2 days, barely eaten in the last few days
8 notes
·
View notes
The mental health is really playing with a full deck today and by full deck I mean my anxiety is actively hunting me for sport.
7 notes
·
View notes
I don’t feel here. It’s a haze. Everyday, when I look back on yesterday, I can’t fully remember the conversations that I had or the thoughts that were running through my mind. I’m feeling everything through 50 panes of glass and by the time the sensation gets to me, it’s so diluted I hardly notice I’m feeling anything at all.
2 notes
·
View notes
okay so words aren’t working and nothing makes sense so :/ like feel free to interact with me / send in asks but I’m not entirely conscious(?) rn
5 notes
·
View notes
My grandmother died today. And nothing feels quite real. I heard my mother’s voice on the phone as I got in the car, and I sat in the front seat, keys halfway to the ignition. I hung up. And then I drove down to the the pool but I don’t remember getting there. Sunscreen a thick film over my body like the film that coated my mind, making everything feel waxy and distant. I dove into the cold water, a breathtaking cold like the chill that ran down my spine when my mother said those words.
My grandmother died today. And I swam till my lungs burned and my arms and legs felt heavy enough to sink my body down to the bottom of the pool. I swam and everytime my thoughts drifted back to that fact, I pushed harder till I was gasping. I tried not to think of how I was watching her gasping for air in her hospital bed the day before. And now she’s not breathing. But I still am. I swam for over an hour.
My grandmother died today. And I called my boyfriend to tell him but he already knew. So I didn’t have to say it. I haven’t said it. He asked me about the service. I started to say she wanted to be cremated. She wants to- and I went silent. He asked me if I was still there. I couldn’t open my mouth.
My grandmother died today. And my mother held me in her arms, and she told me how my love for my Gran meant so much to her. I had to hold my breath.
My grandmother died today. And I keep replaying yesterday at the hospital over and over. I see her lying in the bed. I can feel her frail, limp hand against mine, her hair through my fingers as I ran them through. I made sure to look her in the eye, through the haze of the drugs keeping her at peace I wanted her to see me. To know I was there. I kissed her on the forehead, and told her I loved her. She was trying to talk, but she couldn’t. I said that it was okay, I knew she loved me. That it was okay she couldn’t say it back. I remember walking away, out of the hospital room. I’m not sure if having such a strong memory is hurting or healing.
My grandmother died today. I looked at my boyfriend and realised I won’t have either of my grandmothers at my wedding.
My grandmother died today. And everything’s changed but nothing has. The sun still shines. The sun still set. My assignments still need to be done. I will still fail my first year of University in 7 days if I don’t write over 5,000 words across three assignments. I still lost my job. I lost my grandmother. My only grandmother. I haven’t cried yet. I’m scared to start. If I do I’m not sure I’ll stop. I can’t think about it.
My grandmother died today, and even though I knew it was coming, even though I spent hours at her hospital bedside over five weeks of torturous medical complications and deteriorations, even though I knew she was now in palliative care, I didn’t expect her to die.
My Grandmother is dead. She is at peace, but we are not.
2 notes
·
View notes