at first it slams engulfs drowns How can we possibly survive our loss total and utter impossibility shock overwhelms us gut punched bewilderment convulsive sobbing brokenness blankness . . . grief
As moments become days become months
the sadness & sobbing reduce to tears melancholy questions anger more sadness blankness depression fatigue . . . grief
and with the years come resignation flashbacks sleeplessness nostalgic longing embodied sadness emotional numbness rememberings wistful memories . . . grief
Our journey unfolds personal processing no right no wrong grief grips our future it is always there we blank it out we mind block the triggers we hold in tears we nurse the pieces of our broken heart until our inward flowing tears glue the parts together there will always be cracks it will never be whole ever again But those cracks remind us every day of the intense beauty of loving of being loved
For the past few days my mind has been a mash up of blank emotions Feeling with others Identifying with parts of their stories But not knowing how to process my own Because it just feels too huge Too complicated Where do I start my PTSD, my ball of string, has so many pieces rolled into it some are long, very very very long and others are short, abrupt, moments with many varying lengths between
This morning Russell Brand challenged me loud and clear He pushed me up off of my pillows and said Start writing!
Here goes….
My father He was my main fuck up He fucked me up so fucking good He spent my entire childhood ensuring I was totally fucked up And he did such a good job of it Incest is the most confusing type of sexual abuse anyone can endure No violence involved Just so called love and enjoyment It turns my stomach to recall how much he made me enjoy what he did to me For over 10 years That is a total screw up in anyones brain I bury those memories so deep But this morning they are surfacing And I am SO FUCKING ANGRY He stole so much from me The pleasure of actually knowing when I lost my virginity Or the ability to give consent and give myself to who I wanted The never knowing when, because it is blurred into obscurity The not knowing how to guide my own children My children – OMG don’t get me started on that He locked my emotions up so fucking much I didn’t know how to parent or communicate with me own children I so fucked up my own children
That day we were going to visit our friends the day our landrover rolled off the road and down the bank the day the one man I trusted let me down for the first time that one error of judgement set triggers alight that haunt me decades later fears that seem now to be irrational but are so fucking real fear of falling fear of losing my children fear of confined spaces fear of losing control fears, irrational and uncontrollable fears…
Home from the hospital an innocent comment A curious question Allowed us to discover our precious daughter had been abused whilst we were away she was in the care of someone we trusted but still a fucked up deviant who managed to get to my precious little girl So Fucking Up and So Fucking Angry
A month later pregnant with very unplanned baby No4 after pelvic injuries, broken left ankle, sprained right knee and weeks on crutches after a month of painkillers after a month of vomiting then bleeding a bucket full of bleeding nearly died getting to the hospital I lost my baby
Abused by a hospital doctor another man I should’ve been able to trust my husband’s ignorance/innocence in female medical stuff allowed it to happen Nurses enveloped me allowed me to cry helped me understand what he did to me was wrong a week later re-admittance a repeat proceedure re-traumatisation
Finally home Fucked up again No you can’t grieve your baby You gotta praise God Cuz you gotta accept its all part of his plan So no tears No sadness Let’s just praise God and carry on living So Fucked Up
Baby No5 Perfectly normal pregnancy Horrendous delivery Hospital trauma Stirrups Huge needle in my spine during stage 2 Total evacuation of my uterus Post birth – you need to get out of bed Migraine to the max Oops – another medical fuckup More needles in my spine “oh you have a wee boy after 3 girls. How lovely” No fucking way do I want this kid! I am in so much pain and you expect me to love this baby 10 days to finally hold and begin to love my boy Such a Fuck Up
Baby No7 7 years later My friends enveloped me Finally I was allowed to grieve But along the way pieces of trauma varying degrees of severity adding up relationships family dramas accidents business issues so many traumas and falls, so many falls culminating in years and years of body pain But swept aside as just another thing to deal with I kept busy, keeping busy Running the farm Doing all the bookwork Raising & educating my 10 living children Feeding the myriads that surrounded our family table each day Encapsulating extreme busyness! I was really, really good at keeping busy
Unknowingly My stress bucket was filling then one evening one small thing was said But it was magnificent & breathtaking in its delivery and its magnificence overflowed my bucket And I broke An emotional breakdown that completely unhinged me Threw me off of my rotation And spin me out of my carefully controlled busyness It totally bewildered my husband It completely blindsided me But actually I wasn’t shocked I had been quietly screaming for help since I was a small child
That Fuck Up led me on my course of discovery and healing And I am so fucking grateful I began then
Because the 2nd biggest Fuck Up of my life happened two years later
On the 17th February 2013 see! this time I remember all everything each detail of that day is marked with such clarity
My husband, My Timmy The man who had loved me since I was 14 years old The man who saved me and cherished me The man I loved so much left for town and he never came home He was killed Instantly only 20mins from our home when his vehicle left the road and rolled 200m down the hillside
The trauma from that moment has overshadowed almost every other trauma in my life I was so Fucked Up and Fucked Over by the police, victim support etc The people that are supposed to be there for you What a massive Fucked Up! the spiral rippling effect this one event has had on myself my children our extended family is beyond belief I cannot even write this without crying I can talk about my abuse I can get angry, feel sad, etc But I can’t cry But for this my heart cries It is like a bottomless well of tears that will never stop They are always there No matter how happy my life is or how content I am in the moment This trauma has fucked me up like no other
Leaving our home of over 40 years Packing up after 4 generations that was traumatic in itself The splintering of our family The inability of my children to process and support each other as they each reeled in their own pain We have been so Fucked Up
Moving to the city Creating new life and new friends exciting but So hard I got a job A dream job Working with Sexual Abuse victims I So Loved my job Until I was Fucked Over once again by the person who was supposed to support us and be there for us Our Team Manager After a particular horrendous call out The worst any of us had ever experienced Instead of support and care I was Traumatised Victimised Stung big time by a scorpion Put over a barrel – had to leave Fucked Up Again
And in amongst my story there are my children My children all have their own stories I have permission to tell some but now is not that place Their stories require their own spaces Their stories are interwoven with mine through it all We have become stronger Still Fucked Up But So Much Fuckin Stronger
Trust me The landrover’s not gonna go over the bank We’ll be fine Bullshit
Trust me I’m just gonna go to town today I’ll see you tomorrow when you come out with the kids Bullshit
Trust me I’m your friend I’ll have your back Bullshit
Trust me…
Trust me…
Trust me…
When I hear those words… My stomach churns I’m feeling sick My heads pounding I’m crying inside I’m breathing deep Trying to contain my fears My whole body is fighting Trying to release my fears
Trust me… It’s not that I don’t trust you It’s that I can no longer trust myself to trust
Each of us has our own narrative We can be part of the same story But we see with clarity only our part of it
I remember my part of the story that broke us all I remember A day of normalcy A day of planning ahead We were all going to town the following morning But Tim decided to go alone on Monday He wanted to go help Graham pick vegetables because Graham always brought us bins & bins of seconds which he gathered up on his own and brought down for us to process to help feed our large extended family He wanted to do his bit towards this incredibly generosity So He did some mussel ropes with Azzan, some boat work with Seb I remember he raced through the shower and I helped him pack an overnight bag He packed up the Safari I remember we were alone at the back of the 4WD as he loaded in bins of mussels to give away It was to be my last moments with him But neither of us knew I kissed him goodbye and arranged to meet him in town on Tuesday afternoon. He took Seb & Phoebe home and left around 2pm on Monday afternoon I was to drive out with the 3 youngest the next morning to meet him in town.
I remember relaxing with Anson & Marah before they went home Having dinner with the kids and putting them to bed I remember enjoying a peaceful evening
Then with incredible clarity I remember receiving a text from Anson just before 9pm saying he’d heard there had been an accident on our road In my mind ‘our road’ meant anywhere from Port Ligar to Rai Valley I remember making phone calls I called David where Tim was supposed to be staying ‘No we haven’t seen him’ I called Graham ‘No I haven’t seen him, call the police’ I phoned Ian at Okiwi Bay who was our local ambulance responder ‘No, we had a call out but were turned back because the choppers were flown in. Call the police’ So I called the police thinking I would get our local station I remember talking to a lady who had no idea where I was She was in Wellington I remember her telling me she would ask and call me back I remember the heightened fear, adamantly refusing to let her hang up I remember the lightbulb moment whilst waiting for her return – ‘Anson heard it was on the news’! I remember racing to my computer and typing in Stuff.co.nz I remember seeing the news bulletin A lone male was killed on the Port Ligar-Te Towaka Road
I knew instantly I absolutely knew I was hyperventilating I was holding my breath I remember her returning saying she would transfer me to Blenheim Police I remember the voice of the police sergeant… I remember his name I will never forget his name …confirming without compassion or hesitation that yes Tim was dead & had been taken to Nelson I remember frantically asking him where he was and what do I do?? I remember him saying “I don’t know. I’m going off duty now and have handed over to Picton police.”
I remember texting Anson saying Please Come Now! I remember screaming NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
I remember the 3 little ones coming out thinking I was laughing at a movie and their confused faces in total disbelief at what I was sobbing I remember Marah holding me I remember Anson bravely making the worst phone calls he would ever ever have to make Telling his siblings the worst news I remember Seb & Phoebe coming by boat Still numb from losing their wee one only 2 weeks earlier I remember them sitting outside in stunned silent pain I remember having to call Australia I remember Jesika answering, she was so happy at her dance class I remember the anguish of having to tell her I remember her screams as she collapsed I remember the pain of not being able to hold her
I remember receiving a message from a Blenheim cousin at 9:30pm saying how sorry she was and discovering she had heard it from a local person I remember the disbelief that obviously so many others knew long before I did I remember our neighbours Liz, Harry & Jude arriving an hour later I remember them telling me their story Their story confirmed how badly the sergeant had handled the whole situation That Tim had died over 6 hours before only 20mins from home
I remember my pain was so intense that even though I was trying to be everything for everyone that night I completely failed
I have carried all my children’s pain along with my own It has been an incredibly heavy burden I have felt torn in so many directions Grief is a tortuous creature It attacks us all at different times and in different ways
I have watched each of them walk their own journeys, process their own trauma, and know they hold their own narratives of that night Some have vocalised Others have kept theirs hidden deep I cannot tell their stories Just as they can’t tell mine But we can hold each other and listen
