Suicide is Painless?

A few months ago I watched my mother die a slow and painful death (amazingly it only took 24 hours after I found her, it could have been a lot longer) after taking a huge overdose of paracetamol.  Why she chose this method when there were plenty of other prescription drugs she could have used that would of been much quicker is beyond my comprehension.

Why she chose to do it at all is also still really beyond my comprehension.  I am still waiting for the coroners reports to arrive with the views of the mental health professionals that had been dealing with her.  However I am quite certain that there probably won't be any answers to my questions within them.

I heard this week of another suicide, that of a young man who had been plagued by mental illness.  Is the relief that he ached for the same as what my mother did?

My feelings on the whole debacle change from moment to moment.  I have been very angry, I have felt very worthless, numb, confused, sad, relieved and many many more emotions.

At the moment I am really feeling that maybe it was not the result of a mental health 'issue'.  She had a life that was plagued by horrific experiences for the first 17 years.  These had scarred her so deeply that she was never able to accept any help in trying to come to terms with them.  Her last 5 years were also enveloped in great sadness after loosing her youngest daughter and her beloved husband.  She just did not want to be alive without them.

So was there anything that could have been done to prevent her from taking the action that she did?  I still have to believe not at the moment - partly because this is the only way I can stop myself from taking any blame for her actions ( I know this is a little selfish but hey - I still have a family to be there for).  At the moment I really don't think anyone else could have done anything to help her - she did not want it - in fact she very actively refused to engage with any help that was offered.

So my experience is that suicide is not painless for the person who takes their life, and most certainly is not painless for those that have to face the trauma of finding them and then dealing with the grief that inevitably follows.

A New Season?

 

After a busy morning sorting out paperwork as one of my mums executors I decided to take a moment and hang out my first lot of washing on the line this year

I am finally starting to believe that a new season may be coming upon us.  There has been a change in my niece (still in a mental health unit) this last week as well.  Those looking after her are not quite sure what is going on but for the first time she appears to be behaving completely out of her own control.  It is a very strange thing to see.  The strangest part being that she is actually being so nice and sweet, it is almost like a regression is taking place, she is more like she used to be when she was a little girl (she is almost 16).  For the last four years she has been bound my anger and aggression which has got her into a lot of scrapes.  Even on her best days there was an air of 'don't make me angry' about her.  Spending a couple of hours with her last weekend was nice if not a bit odd.  Unfortunately she has also developed a lot of obsessive compulsive traits at the same time which are really hampering her ability to move around.  Your continued prayers for her are very much appreciated.

In my garden this year my snowdrops have definitely been the best they have ever been.  They all came with me 11 years ago when we moved down here from Cheshire where I had purchased them at several different gardens we had visited.  I love the photo at the top of this post with the contrast of their white and green against the lovely little narcissus.

My wiggly raised border is certainly shouting out Spring is Coming.  As are these beautiful primroses

Come on Spring, I am getting impatient for a new season to dawn.

Staying Out of the Kitchen

 

Do you like my new toast plate?  It was an early Mothering Sunday gift to me from my niece.  She has moved to a mental health unit closer to us and so I got to see her last weekend.  There should be a picture at the end of this post with what she has written on the back.  She got the opportunity to go to a Pottery Barn and designed it herself - very precious.

Toast is about all I am able to make at the moment.  My culinary skills along with all my general homemaking skills seem to have taken leave of me at the moment.  I read somewhere recently that this often happens during the early stages of bereavement.  It really is most queer.  

Last Saturday I burnt my plums - literally (stop sniggering), I had, had some hanging around in the fruit bowl until they had started to dry out so decided I really shouldn't waste them and could just quickly stew them and use them for a pudding.  Twenty minutes after putting them on, having got totally distracted by another task I suddenly remembered them.  Too late - it took 24 hours of soaking and then boiling water in the empty pan to get rid of all the burnt on bits.

Sunday I had one last load of washing that needed to go through the drier (having managed the others on Saturday - some success).  After putting the drier on I walked away thinking that it sounded a bit clunky, but then it often sounds a bit odd.  It wasn't until I came to empty it later that I discovered my daughters small metal Vaseline pot sitting in the bottom of the drier after taking the clothes out.  I suppose I should consider myself very fortunate that it only ruined three items of clothing, none of them being particularly special items.

On Monday I had a friend round for lunch and had thought to ask my dear husband to get a lovely broth out of the freezer that a friend had made and given to me.  All seemed to go well, we ate and it wasn't until about an hour (or probably two), that we started to clear the table and as I put the pots in the kitchen felt something burning on my hand - I had just left the gas hob on for the whole time - thank goodness there wasn't anything near to it!

Tuesday, husband made my lunch and I went to the Chip Shop to get the children's tea when husband was at work in the evening.  Tonight I will try and cook something simple - do wish me luck!

A Eulogy

The funeral is over, two weeks have passed, I am trying to find a new normal.  I seem to be collecting the experience of all types of death, the sudden, the short illness, the long term illness and now the taking of one's own life.  I have so much to be thankful for at the moment.  My friends have been truly wonderful.  My husband has now lead the funeral services of both my parents - he did so with so much poise and love - what can I say. This is the eulogy that my lovely husband read at my mums  funeral service:

Hannelore  was born on the 18^th October 1946 to Margarete Roehrig in Hamburg, Germany.  The result of a liaison with a British soldier at the end of World War 2, who mum never knew.

By the age of 5 she was nursing her mother Margarete until she died after a short illness.  Her next 12 years were even more tragic.  She was abused and let down by every adult in her young life, even by her Aunt Charlotte and her husband who chose to adopt her.

However, at the age of 17 she met her knight in shining armour.  Whilst on holiday in Ventnor on the Isle of Wight in 1963, Lore met Colin and within six months of meeting they were engaged to be married.

Another important adult that came into mum’s life after she met dad was his mum, my Grandma B.  She took my mum to her heart like she was one of her own and mum was devoted to her, literally right to the last breath of Grandma’s life.

Having been forced to leave school without any qualifications she was amazingly able to forge her way to a successful business career, from starting in a typing pool to becoming a company director at Diaploy.  My mum and dad started married life with nothing, but through sheer hard work, they were able to provide for us all.  I remember well as a child my dad coming in from work and taking my mum to Breadsall Priory to do a night shift.  It was in mum’s first job when she came up to Derby from Kingston upon Thames to marry dad that she met Helen, I’m sure she would have lots of tales to tell of what they got up to.  Mum showed me not that long ago a scrap book that the girls had given her when she married dad.

Mum was always dreaming up new business ventures, there was a shop on the main road through Draycott when we were very young, something she did along with her friend Glenys – I remember it being a great resource when it came to needing an outfit for the Draycott School fancy dress competition.

As many of you probably know mum was always looking at new ways to be creative.  She often made matching clothes for Sally and I when we were young.  She was a talented knitter, could crochet, do embroidery and tapestry, even basket weave.  She also learnt how to make stained glass objects, the pinnacle of that craft being able to complete the beautiful rosewood kitchen that dad made with stained glass cupboard doors in one of their houses.

Then there was the introduction to Bees.  This not only provided a good sense of purpose after mum had retired but also produced an enduring friendship with Ben and Justine whom mum adored.  But it was not just honey that was produced.  There was B's Beeswax polish, my dad’s old recipe.  The last time I remember mum being really happy was when she was off to a craft fair with Ben and Justine laden with honey and waxy stuff.

It was after moving to L E that I remember mum and dad’s friendship with Len and Jan becoming very apparent to me.  We all lived on C Street, though at opposite ends and it was a very long street!  I have many memories of them coming round for meals and later when mum and dad were at W  Road they really enjoyed Len, Jan and Harry the dog popping round for a drink, and Harry always got a treat.

Mum’s love and care for dogs was shown in the two dogs that she had, Topsy when we were growing up and Mandy when we were supposed to have left home.  Both lived long lives of over 17 years which I have always put down to the love they had from mum.  It was a great sadness to her that dad did not feel able to have another dog after Mandy.

The last 13 years had been very hard for mum to bear.  The deterioration in my sister S's health and her passing away 4 years ago had taken its toll.  The one bright spark during these times was having their grand-daughter A come to live with them from the age of 3.

After Dad suddenly died 14 months ago, she was completely adrift.  The traumatic events of her early life came back to haunt her in a manner that put her into hospital for 4 months.  I am so thankful that I got to spend more time with her in the last 14 months than I had in the previous 30 years.  We have been dog walking at the beach, swimming regularly during the week (and even in the sea a few times) and having lots of family meals together.   She had also come along and kept me company at many of the concerts that S and A were playing in.

I hope that it will be of comfort to my brother John his wife C and their children J and A that they got to spend what turned out to be her last Christmas with them.  She had been so grateful to John in the last 12 months for relieving her of the great burden of clearing out 45 years worth of paperwork by packing up the house in L E while she moved down to live near me.

I know mum’s life was bound up in shame and secrecy.  Iit is something we had talked quite a lot about in the last few years, and she was slowly starting to reveal some of the awfulness that she had been made to endure in her early life.  While in hospital a year ago she came to realise that the years of bottling up all that trauma were the cause of much of her inability to cope.  Maybe the one legacy that we can all take from her untimely leaving us is the importance of finding people you can trust and talking, opening up and sharing life’s ups and downs.

For me, life is never going to be quite the same again.  I had hoped that I would be able to look after her into a good old age, the way I saw her look after Grandma B.  However it was not to be.  Now we must all find our own way to remember with joy the good times, grieve for the bad times and make the best of the lives that her life made and touched.

Taking a Break.

I am taking a break from blog land for a while as my mum unexpectedly died last Sunday.  There is much to do and sort.  And a broken heart that needs some tlc.  Take care,  Jane x.

Our Love Story

My dear friend over at 10 minute writer has been tweeting her love story today (using #ourlovestory)  as it is her 18th anniversary of meeting her future husband on line.  I decided to get in on the act.  I did write a little bit way back when my blog was very new, you can see that post here.  But thought it would be lovely to keep a more sturdy record of my tweeted version, so here it is:

Jane D ‏@MrsJCraftypants

Don't remember our first meeting,it was on the aisle of the church where we later got married. A friend set to match making us 

 Jane D ‏@MrsJCraftypants

First set up date was a meal with other friends - he was in the know about me - I wasn't about him and ignored him all evening

 Jane D ‏@MrsJCraftypants

We ended up as leaders for a young peoples event. He wrote a rap about God one evening which he shared. I was bowled over

 Jane D ‏@MrsJCraftypants

Next time we met was a friends housewarming party. He arrived as everyone was leaving after an afternoon shfit, I stayed on

Jane D ‏@MrsJCraftypants

We talked about house plants and I said I would take a cutting off mine for him. When we left (very late) we shook hands.

 Jane D ‏@MrsJCraftypants

He called me a few days later and asked me to go on a date. We went and had a fantastic evening getting to know each other 

 Jane D ‏@MrsJCraftypants

our told him I had made a deal with God not to kiss another man until I found the one I was going to marry. He was waiting too 

Jane D ‏@MrsJCraftypants

He dropped me home and I gave him his pot plant - he called it Audrey - we still have her 18 1/2 years later.

 Jane D ‏@MrsJCraftypants

Our next date a week later, I met some of his old school friends from Manchester, we went to a garden party - we kissed!

Jane D ‏@MrsJCraftypants

Audrey flourished, so did our love for each other, we had one big obstacle though - my man did not ever want a family, I did.

Jane D ‏@MrsJCraftypants

12mths ltr he took me to a fave place, waited for Concorde to fly over, went down on one knee and surprised the life out of me

Jane D ‏@MrsJCraftypants

A few months later in May he gave me the wedding of my dreams, we left the reception afterwards VERY early ;o)

Jane D ‏@MrsJCraftypants

Our 1st child was born 3 yrs later our 2nd 17 months after that. Life has thrown us some challenges, but we are still in love

If you fancy writing yours I would love to see it, I am very much a romantic at heart!  Do leave a link in my comments.

Rumination and Mindfulness

I am reading a book at the moment called 'How Crochet Saved My Life' by Kathryne Vercillo.  It is really taking me back to my Occupational Therapy (OT) training.  The whole ethos of OT is that we are made to be productive beings and when we face illness or disability that productiveness can become disrupted.

This book is written by someone who managed to get a handle on her depression by the productivity of crochet.  This is something that resonates very much with me.  As I am reading it, I find myself going - 'I knowwwwww' it response to her statements.  One of the problems that I have found myself struggling with is rumination.  The process of going over stuff that I can do nothing about over and over again in my mind.  Breaking this habit is so difficult, however there are a few activities that I do which help me to practise 'mindfullness' which in turn breaks the rumination.  The activites that help me at the moment are; playing on my little hand held solitaire game (I usually restrict doing this to when I have a bath); swimming counting my lengths and watching the time; and crochet.

The repetitive nature of crochet, the counting of stitches and rows can totally consume my thoughts leaving no room at all for any 'ruminaiton'.  For me the greatest advantage of getting into this state of mindfullness is that I can then listen out for God.  Ruminating is so destructive to relationships, including my relationship with God.  Unless my mind shuts up I can't just be and listen for Him.

So the productivity that activity gives to me at the moment is helping me to listen to God, the rewards of that are endless. I am also getting the satisfaction of making lovely things (if you would like to see some of these please take a look at my Mrs Craftypants blog here).

Continuing to add to my list of blessings.

940. The sound of birdsong as the day ends and the church is quiet.

941. Snowdrops under the tree in my garden with the promise of their little white heads.

942. Candlelight.

943. Another two sales on Folksy.

944. A tidy craft cupboard.

945. Getting back to some card making.

946. The excitement of my puppy when I come down in the morning.

947. Watching my home cooking being devoured by my family.

948. Mum popping in for a coffee.

949. A conversation with my neice on the telephone.