Becoming, Lucy

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  • Time Didn’t Pause

    I wasn’t going to post this because it’s so raw. I wrote this less than 12 hours after finding out he had passed. There’s no reflection here, no neat resolution. Just disbelief, love and the ache of wanting the world to stop, even for a moment. Writing is the only way I know how to breathe sometimes… And that’s okay.

    You left us yesterday.
    It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours.

    I don’t remember the last time I saw you.
    I wish I’d held you longer,
    told you I loved you more.

    All I can think about is the pain,
    how alone you must have been
    in those final minutes.
    Fuck.

    Why doesn’t time pause?
    Why doesn’t life pause?
    Why is everyone still continuing?

    I don’t want to continue.
    I just need time to stop,
    for a moment.

    I miss you.
    I love you.

  • Even In The Darkness, There Is Life

    I don’t even know how to start this entry. What a weird and horrible week. Was my mood dropping constantly last week just foreshadowing what was to come?

    I had to ‘force’ myself to be happy last week, to find happiness – more than once. Was my cat escaping then coming back at night his way of warning me? Probably not. That’s ridiculous. But then Saturday came and the worst news was delivered.

    I don’t understand grief. I don’t think it’s an emotion humans understand at all. I think there are too many emotions involved… sadness, guilt, relief, jealousy, fear, happiness. Maybe grief is just an umbrella term for something that is too hard to label.

    That call. It sounds like a constant ringing in my ears when I try recall it… Time really did slow down and then just freeze. Even now, it doesn’t feel like time has caught up. It feels like everyone else is on normal time… But mine is slowed, like I’m in a haze…

    I don’t feel part of myself. I’m on the outside looking in. But life continues. The school runs continue, work still needs doing, the fridge still needs filling…

    Even in the darkness, there is life.

  • The Trees Will Always Be Beautiful

    Grief has a strange way of softening the world. Everything looks the same, everything stays the same but it all feels wrapped in something heavier. A fog that makes you ache for warmth. I keep reminding myself that even in all that heaviness, there is still beauty. The mark he left is still here. Fog comes and goes, but love… Love will always remain.

    The trees were beautiful,
    but they were covered in fog.
    This thick blanket of heaviness.

    The grief I feel is a blanket of heaviness.
    The trees are still beautiful,
    the mark you left is still beautiful,
    but the fog, the fog is heavy right now.

    There are moments when light tries to shine through,
    but only for a moment.
    A memory of you brings a small laugh, a smile,
    but only for a moment.

    I know the fog will lift soon.
    I know the mark you left will remain beautiful,
    just as the trees will always be beautiful.

    But the fog will always return,
    sometimes light,
    other times thick and heavy.

    That’s okay.
    The trees will always be beautiful.

  • A Conversation With Death

    I wrote this in the first few hours after losing someone I loved deeply. A conversation with something I don’t understand but keep being forced to face.

    Death. 
    You’re a cruel friend. 

    I’ve thought about you, a lot. 
    I know you’ve thought about me too. 
    But you never come for me, do you? 
    You go for the ones I love instead.

    Is this some sort of sick game to you?
    Is it some sort of lesson?
    I don’t need a lesson. 
    Why do you take the ones I love?

    I understand death better than most.
    I know we live and then we die. 
    But why do you take the ones I love?
    Why do you not let them live?

    Death.
    I’m not sure you’re my friend.

  • Messy and Honest

    Today. Today has been weird. I want to say it has been hard but it hasn’t – it’s just hard right now. My cat has gone missing and I’m feeling guilty because I didn’t realise he was missing until this evening when I think he has been gone since this morning. Trying not to think about that too much right now or this whole diary entry will just be me spiralling about my naughty cat. Have an indoor cat, it’s safer they said… Until you leave the door open for a moment too long and they go explore.

    Anyway, what a long week. Work has been unproductive for me, my to do list has gotten bigger each day with very few tasks ticked off. Sleep has not come easy each night

    I wanted to write about my Friday, about my week but I’m just complaining and I hate it. I hate every word coming out of my mouth. I’m anxious. I’m tired. I’m overwhelmed. I’m… I don’t know what I am. But I do not want this whole diary entry to be me just going on about what has sucked this week. In fact, I don’t even feel like writing honestly. I think i need a cry. I don’t know what I need.

    After sitting and staring at my screen for five minutes, I think I’m just going to let this entry sit. Messy and honest. No reflection, no resolution. Maybe that’s the way my week needed to end.

  • Grey

    Everything was grey today. 
    The sky. 
    The cars.
    Even my coffee looked grey. 
    It tasted grey too, the barista forgot the caramel. 

    My tasks at work were grey. 
    Too much paper. 
    Today has felt uninspiring.

    I’ve poured a lot out emotionally recently. 
    I think my brain and body are resetting. 

    I hope I can find some colour in my evening. 

    I found colour.

    Pink clouds like brush strokes in the blue sky as the sun set.
    Purple in my workout.
    Orange and yellow in the dance party in the kitchen with my boys.
    Rainbows in the shuffle of songs Spotify played.

  • Today I Needed Warmth

    Today I needed warmth, I needed to be held. I didn’t have anyone for that so I had to be that for myself. So I sat and reflected…

    I carry a lot quietly – nothing big, nothing hard but like a friend of mine says, everyone’s pain is maximal to them.

    I still show up, I still manage to find beauty, create beauty in the small moments. I don’t drown in the darkness (or try not to at least), I keep moving through it. I keep letting my light glow, even if it is dim. A warm yellow glow, not bright, not shiny, just there.

    I question everything – some may see this is a fault but it means I turn my vulnerability, my chaos, my ache into art, conversation, understanding.

    I’m proud of me for that. For staying curious. For trying. For refusing to numb myself.

    So today was a day of reflection, of being that warmth for myself, something I usually struggle with. I am proud of me for that, for being the kindness I usually show others.

    Today I am proud of myself.

    This is my journey of becoming, of self love. The road isn’t straight; it’s full of twists and turns, even some roundabouts that I get stuck on sometimes. But it’s my journey and I hope I remember this moment next time I find myself circling one again.

  • Half Finished Note

    Tired

    Tired of pretending

    Tired of smiling

    Tired of being

    Tired of work

    Tired of hoping

    Tired of being present 

    So tired

  • When I Can’t Find The Words

    I struggle to articulate my thoughts sometimes.
    Often.

    I can feel the words on my tongue
    or like a static in my chest,
    but I cant tune into the frequency.

    It’s frustrating,
    It spills out as tears,
    or as anger.

    90% of the time it’s tears.

    Since I started journaling,
    letting the words fall out of me,
    I have found it easier.
    Maybe I’m not speaking the words out loud,
    but I am getting my truth out,
    without the tears, without the anger.

    It has been good.

    I am angry.
    I am upset.
    You let me down,
    again.

    I will retreat,
    I will make myself smaller.
    I will quieten myself,
    again.

    I don’t want to fight.
    I don’t want to shout.
    It won’t help.

    Have you given up?
    Are you tired of me?
    Do you even notice?
    You don’t even notice.

    Everything is fine,
    You think.

    I don’t want to wear my mask anymore.
    I don’t want to stay quiet anymore.

    If I use my voice, will you notice?
    Will you care?

    Don’t leave.
    Don’t leave me.
    Please stay.
    Stay with me.

    Maybe I should stay quiet.

  • The Mirror

    You watch me every morning and every evening.

    It’s our routine.

    Do you talk to your friend across the hall about me?

    Do you see what I see?

    Do you see how I avoid your gaze?

    I need you (both) though, I can’t avoid you (both) completely.

    But I find it hard to face you (both).

    I wonder if we’ll ever be friends.

    Will I ever be able to look at you and feel happiness?

    Do you like seeing me?

    Do you like our routine?

    Would you tell me I’m beautiful?

    Would you mean it?