Sometimes, life is really that rubbish…

I recently went to a theatre show (probably the subject of another blog post) but it made me really think.

Mental health is in the spotlight at the moment and it absolutely should be. Yet sometimes certain topics can be associated with poor mental health when actually I feel (and this is a personal account) it’s part of life.

My mum died when I was 9. It was unexpected and, quite frankly, it was the worst most painful moment of my entire life. It still affects me now, when I tell people I see ‘the look’. The ‘look’ is of pity, not of empathy. It comes from people who don’t understand and to be honest you can’t possibly understand if you haven’t lost a parent. It’s okay that you don’t understand. It’s okay because I know that losing a parent is the circle of life. As a child the likelihood of your parents dying first is likely. They’re older. This sounds harsh typing this but it’s logical.

It doesn’t mean it hurts any less. If I lost my dad at age 35, would it hurt less than losing my mum at age 9? I don’t know because thankfully my dad is still alive. Yet the feelings of losing someone who I love, will that be different whatever age?

I have days with poor mental health. Sometimes I have days where I feel sad. Feeling sad at a parent’s death is not poor mental health where I need some extra support. It’s okay to be angry and upset and all the other feelings. Losing my mum is rubbish. I am angry a lot because my mum should be alive. Yet that is nothing to do with the support that I need for my mental health. I am rambling but I want to let the words flow.

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