I know my mothers death is affecting me more than it appears. I haven’t cried. I don’t feel angry. I don’t feel sad. I feel nothing.
But, I know it’s affecting me.
I’m on the internet and social media more than I was.
I’m blogging more than I was.
I’m exhausted and that’s getting worse each day.
I didn’t sleep well last night. Despite medication.
All signs that I am struggling. But, without the emotions to go with it.
I’m getting emotional about anything else upsetting.
Like my son’s friend who is 15, being homeless because his alcoholic abusive parents chucked him out this week. Which makes me very angry. Poor kid. Such abuse and abandonment. Fortunately he is staying indefinitely with another of their friends, who’s parents have so kindly taken him in. Which I am so grateful for And I’m going to talk to them tomorrow, to see how I can help. I have a card to give him too, with a message of how is welcome anytime at our place. If he needs anything, to let us know. And some money in the card. I just want him to know there are people who care about him and his wellbeing.
I’ve cried at how this teenager must be feeling. Several times.
I cried at the news about Manchester and the terrorism that claimed so many lives and traumatised many more.
I’ve cried about a story of animal cruelty I read.
But, I cannot cry about my mother. I wish I could and just get over with already. Continue reading