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every day is Father's Day when you're grieving your Dad

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I posted my first blogs about grief over two years ago, and reading them back feels like a slightly out of body experience. For a split second I think aww bless her until quickly remembering that the girl I’m feeling for is me… Before losing my Dad, my biggest struggles were stressing about whether to go out on a Thursday or Friday night, the occasional stomach bug from travels that were always worth it, or whether the boy I liked was texting me back. Admittedly, my life was fortunate, convenient, and uncomplicated for 22 years. I say ‘admittedly’ almost apologetically as if there is something wrong with that, when of course there isn’t - it seems the only person I’m apologising to is my current self. If you’re reading this and you met me for the first time in 2024, I likely owe you an apology for unsolicitedly trauma dumping on you. Uber drivers, hairdressers, shop assistants, and truthfully even the odd job interviewer were all unsuspecting victims.  But I imagine if you’...
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long time no speak - evolution of grief

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t/w death and grief  It’s been a while since I’ve had a blog-worthy wobble, and over the last few months I’ve felt uninspired with writing in general. But the blank pages in my journal are probably a good sign, as there is definitely a correlation between my urge to write, and the weight of emotion I’m feeling. That said, I have missed the catharsis writing brings; there is something so magically relieving about the way it forces me to organise racing thoughts, articulating them word by word, as if stringing them in a line, rather than letting them swirl around in an incoherent chaos that I then find easier to suppress and bottle up. Essentially, the lack of writing has been down to the busyness of the last few months as I’ve been too distracted to make time for blogging and, to be honest, grief in general. As bizarre as it sounds, I’ve found myself going on a subconscious ‘grief strike’ as sometimes it boils down to the fact that most days I simply can’t be arsed to be sad. It is ...
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52 things i've learned in 52 weeks without my Dad

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  t/w death and grief                                                                                              17.01.2025      Time is merely a social construct and literally thinking, the distinction between my Dad dying 11 months ago vs 12, shouldn’t make too much of a difference. Yet the approach to the one year anniversary of his death or the year since I last saw him last, has come with this weight that has been difficult to shake.  To be fully transparent, I wrote this list a couple of months ago when I must have been having a pretty good week, because reading it back it really is laced with the undertones of optimism I always strive for but which I’m definitely not feeling no...
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grief has turned me into the grinch

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t/w death and grief            I look back on this time last year with a certain guilt about my ignorance and lack of thought towards grieving families at Christmas. I heavily indulged in the commercialised crap literally counting down the days with an advent calendar (that never lasted long), and shed tears over cringey adverts with a laughing family around the Christmas table, not giving a second thought to those who might not have that privilege. But having had my eyes forced open this year to the reality that Christmas is indeed not  always the most wonderful time of the year, every part of me wishes I could go back to that ignorant version of myself. Just for a day perhaps. Ideally Christmas Eve where traditionally my brothers and I would escape Christmas cooking stress and go to the pub with my Dad to talk about the year that has passed.  I wonder what that extremely hypothetical conversation would look like this ye...
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