This is quite a difficult one to write about. Not in the sense of subject matter, more the effect it has had on me. When Lyanda was in too much pain to get out of bed, which was most days, she would watch TV, listen to music, watch her tablet and shop online. A lot of shopping. Daily, parcels would arrive. This went on for months. I spoke to her about it one night and she said there’s not much else she can do. Browsing online and buying things filled a gap of the ‘normal’ things she wanted to do, but couldn’t. I didn’t fully get it, but understood what she meant. Now I completely understand it.
Over the past few months I have had no motivation to do anything. Being indoors constantly I begun doing the same. It begun at what was probably the most difficult time so far, but has also lasted the longest. From the beginning of June to the end of July. The same period last year that everything happened. The last few weeks of Lyanda’s life, her sad and sudden passing, the funeral and coming to terms with it all at the beginning. It hit me harder than I could have imagined. I was not a pleasant person to be around. I did what I needed to during this time, nothing more.
I found myself looking at shops online and ordering things. Parcels started arriving at the house. Not necessarily stuff we needed either. But nice things. As they turned up day after day I excitedly opened everything. Some things were a mystery which made it all even more exciting. I didn’t know why I was doing this, but I felt I needed to. I had to. It was a compulsion. An addiction.
Realisation hit me the other night. The reason I did all this? Trying not to relive it all again. Trying not to think about it. A distraction. Trying to be happy again. Not an excuse, just the truth. I sat there and looked at everything. I started to question myself, thinking I’d gone mad. I stared blankly at everything I had ordered, thinking why? Then I remembered the conversation I’d had with Lyanda and what she said. I too was trying to fill a gap. An emptiness, this massive void.
I felt really upset. I was annoyed, angry and ashamed. I cried. Just sat there, looking at everything, crying. Nothing has changed, everything is still the same. The emptiness remains and we’re all still missing someone important in our lives.
The next day I was thinking a bit clearer about it all. I wasn’t trying to replace Lyanda with stuff I’d bought, just trying to fill the void I feel inside. I thought back to these past couple of months. In my mind I believed that all this stuff would make things a bit better. A bit more bearable possibly. Maybe even a bit happier. I was wrong. If anything I feel more miserable now. I know I could have easily become a drug addict, an alcoholic, or worse. I could have lost all the kids because of it too, but I haven’t. We are all still here, together, in our home. Knowing this is a great feeling, and one thing I cherish. But I also feel like I’ve failed everyone.
Everyone has been great with their help in all ways and I appreciate it all. Now I feel like I have betrayed them and let them all down. I know I probably haven’t, but can’t help the way I feel. I’ve been very hesitant about publishing this post, as a lot of close and important people will read it. Some of these people have been a massive help, who I should have spoken to about it all, but didn’t. I am sorry.
I know I have to sort out this mess I’m in, somehow. I’m worried about it, scared even. I shouldn’t have started, but I did. In a way its good I realised what I was doing this early on and put a stop to it. Things could be a lot worse. At the time I thought it was helping, but it hasn’t. Buying things cannot fill an emptiness or a void in life. It might seem like it does at the time, but it won’t when the dust settles.