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16.9.11

THE Question

*Warning: this could be a sensitive read to some.

Just when I think this question is out of my head it smacks you in the face again.
SMACK.
Something as simple as two episodes of Torchwood [episode 9 and 10 to be exact] bringing back this thing which I then can't stop thinking about. It gets into my head, tick, tick, tick and then....
Explode.
I breakdown.
Over 10 years I've had this thing going round and round in my head.
*heads to Google to just check a date*
*Comes back shocked*
1995 these feelings first crept in and found a comfy spot inside my young, fresh 10 year old head.

I'm sat in my bedroom watching Top of The Pops.
Michael Jackson has just released Earth Song. I love it. And I'm watching the video.
Theres an old man in the video, on bended knees.
He looks like someones grandad.
He must be someones grandad.
I had lost my grandad 3 years ago.
1992.
Although I don't have many memories of him we used to see him regularly. It was my first experience of a family member dying but my parents did a very good job of protecting me, and my brother, from the hurt. My great-nanny also died around now. I remember very clearly when we were told. We were outside playing, my mum called us in. Sat us down. And told us. She wasn't crying, she told us in a lovely way. Soft voice. Protecting us. Shielding us from the pain of losing someone.
Seeing the old man on the video, and seeing his hurt made me so sad.
I ran downstairs to my mum.
She was sat on the floor with her legs stretched out. She was sewing. I remember it so clearly.
She had Top of the Pops on too. The video was just ending.
I sat on the sofa behind her, leant down towards her and I cried. And cried. And cried.
She hugged me. She didn't ask me what the matter was. Or even need to.
Eventually I asked her a question. THE question.
And I expect it was a question she was sort of dreading. I dread the day my children ask as I honestly don't know how to answer. Or want to answer.

What's the point in life when we only end up dying?

Even writing it down creates a wave of something through my body.
I'm scared.
I'm really really scared.
I'm scared of dying.
I'm scared of my children dying. Of my husband dying. Of my mum, my dad dying. 
And my brother dying.
Explode.
There it is again. Crawling deep into my head. Bouncing around.
forcing me to imagine the day I'm told that something has happened to my brother. To my mum. To my husband. 
And god forbid.....to my sons.
Smack. Explode.
Just leave my sons alone. 
I don't claim to be the only one who is scared of dying. I know I'm not.
But the fact that I'm scared proves that no matter how low I am, I could ever take my own life, as some think I would [yes some people do think I would]
What is the point in life? I meet my husband. We set up life together. We live together. We hate being apart.
We bring two babies into the world. Our boys.

I bring my boys up to rely on me. To know I'll always be there.
But I won't. One day I won't be there.

I rely on my mum a lot. Mainly because she won't let go of the reins. Sometimes I can get free but then she somehow grabs hold of them again but brings me back in.
It annoys me sometimes.
I'll call her, asking a simple question on how to wash a certain item of clothing or how to get a stain out.
"I'll do it for you" she'll sometimes reply.
And I have to be honest.
"I need to learn mum. One day I won't be able to call you"
She understands. She's felt like this too.

I just don't understand how people can answer the question of why we live by saying "to create life again, and keep procreating".
I just can't see how that is a reasonable answer.

I want to know why I'm here. 
Where am I going next? 
Is there a next? 
Or is this it?
And if this is it, then why can't it bloody well slow down and stop going so quick.
I want to enjoy my time here. Whilst I'm here.
I want to be able to spend all day cuddling and kissing and nurturing my boys. 
Whilst I can.
Explode.

I know this will always be an issue I'll have troubles dealing with. 
Some days it sits there, in my head, waiting and waiting and waiting.
And then......
BOOM
Off it goes. Bouncing around, and bouncing around.
Then laying back and relaxing whilst the rest of me sorts out the mess left behind.
The questions. The settling myself down again and clearing up the chaos and confusion. 
But knowing that at any moment....
Smash.
It'll be back again.

Whats the point in doing my garden up? Having nice pretty flowers?
So I can sit outside and enjoy life. 
Enjoy life whilst I can? 
Because it'll be over soon and then what?
And then....what?

The thing is. Its tough.
There's no way to deal with it. There's nothing anyone can say to make it go away.
It's just something I have to live with. I have to cope with it.
I have to accept that these moments will come.
But they are so hard. So hard.

Someone else reading this will wonder what I'm talking about. Will tell me its easy to switch off and not think about it. Will tell me to get help.
Someone reading this will understand how I'm feeling. 

And then it relaxes.....
It lays back......
Comfy.....
Looking at the mess its made....
Proud of itself.......

I have some cleaning up to do.
Until next time.