PTSD.

My PTSD has been rearing its ugly head quite a bit recently. It's pretty much been full on for the last week or so.I'm very susceptible to triggers, whether it be a song, a newspaper article, a place that I drive past or something I see on TV or hear on the radio. For example, I am simply unable to listen to Another One Bites the Dust by Queen, ERA or Pirates of the Caribbean soundtracks, all of which were some of my boy's favourite sounds. We played ERA for him in his hospital room. He used to go to sleep to this every night for years.

This is really hard to write about.

I've recently stumbled upon several articles about meningitis. The very appearance of that word is horrible.

These triggers make me think about the night before N was taken to hospital. We didn't know he was sick at the time, but with the benefit of hindsight it's obvious. He was simply incapable of doing his maths homework. I actually got quite angry with him, said something that I will regret for the rest of my days and left the room. I later put him to bed, and as he had always had difficulty getting to sleep, stayed with him for our nightly cuddle. When I got up to leave he said that I could stay and that he'd make more space for me. I didn't stay... I'm balling my eyes out here. Need a break.

Of course I relive these moments constantly. I relive getting the phone call from my wife telling me to come immediately. My first sighting of N in the hospital as his bed was wheeled past us on the way to the ambulance to be transfered to Rennes. His final words and him telling us that it hurt. The hours and hours we spent in his room talking to him, helping to try and get his temperature down, trying to get him to do 'pee pee'. His heart failure and the cries from one of the Doctors for help. Being ushered away from his room and waiting for the inevitable. Haunted. I'm haunted by these day after day, year after year. They simply have not become any easier to deal with, you just get used to them. These memories sit with me always, sometimes more vividly than others. They will be with me until my dying day. They are ruining my life; have ruined my life.

I had so much more to say, but this has been incredibly hard to write.  I'm going to stop now. Incredibly sad. Je t'aime Son. To the moon and back...

You can do it!

Despite all of the hardships that I've experienced, I'm still alive. Only now am I starting to find pleasure in life again. The last 8 years have been hell on earth. I lost my son to meningitis, something that totally destroyed our lives and that we will live with for the rest of our lives. I really struggled to cope and still have a cry everyday. I have been hospitalised three times since then, for depression and my then recently diagnosed Bipolar and PTSD. I have been through a, thankfully amicable, divorce from the most beautiful woman in the world. I've been living alone since the beginning of 2015, which hasn't really helped my coping strategies until recently. I have to be honest and say that I made a couple of very serious mistakes during that time. I won't share as I am dreadfully ashamed.

How have I coped? Well, for much of the last 8 years I haven't really. I drank too much which was not good. Thankfully I'm on top of that now. I ate poorly once finding myself alone. Much as I love cooking, it was so much easier to eat ready-made meals and eat junk food. This of course led to weight gain and a poor self-image. I also overspent and therefore found myself in debt; something that I am still battling. I've since discovered that such reckless spending can be attributed to Bipolar disorder. That's not an excuse though. I'll list some of the things that have helped me rebuild my life:

* Focusing 100% on our son. He needs myself and my ex-wife to be on form and enable him to live his life to the fullest. He really is our shining light.

* Healthy eating. A friend in New Zealand recently introduced me to a diet called PH@TT (Putting health at the top). This is a diet for both mind and body, and I have lost over 25 kilograms since November 2017! I have experienced noticable changes in my mood and self-image. I can also see my toes (and everything in between)!

* Audio books.These calm me down and help me let go of the day and fall asleep. I suffer from chronic Peter Pan syndrome and am a huge Harry Potter fan. I listen to Harry Pötter audio books on a regular basis. I love slipping in to the imaginery world. Some people are in to mindfulness or yoga, exercise or religion. I listen to Harry Potter...It works for me.

* Rediscovering music. For much of the last 8 years I was unable to listen to music. I don't know why. Odd. I shouted myself a record player and have started a vinyl collection (within the constraints of my budget). I also use Spotify regularly (the free version incase you're wondering).

* Films and TV series. As I don't get out a lot these days I have both Netflix and Amazon Prime TV. Amazon Prime TV came as a bit of a surprise as I didn't even know about it, but discovered that it came bundled with Prime photos and drive, both of which I use. Now that my concentration is so much better I'm able to immerse myself in a film.

* Reading. This is a work in progress. Just like listening to music, I have been unable to read for much of the last 8 years. Several recommendations from my best mate in New Zealand have helped me out and I now have quite a book list to get through. The bookshelves are full, so Kindle it is.

* Having objectives. These can range from small, daily objectives to long-term ones. Cleaning the bachelor pad is one helluva mission for me, so I take it in small steps and feel bloody good when I've achieved them. Longer term objectives are saving enough money (something which is pretty much impossible at the moment) to get home to New Zealand. I would also really like to get to London for my birthday in October to see the Seattle Seahawks play an NFL game. Both are fairly unachievable at the moment, but dreams are free. Something very exciting is the planned visit of my Sister and Brother and associated partners, to France in August. My son and I will be catching up with them in Nice. Can't wait.

That's pretty much it for the moment. Time to finish this missive. Things are looking up. I still have incredibly difficult moments and ever present grief, but I'm learning to cope. Bit by bit I'm rebuilding my life. Watch this space.

Triggers.

There are so many triggers to things that make me unbearably sad about the death of my son. A song on the radio, a garden, seeing children with similar glasses at the supermarket for example, children from his primary school walking past my apartment, driving or walking past a place where we once walked; any number of things. This happens at least once a day and I have a hardout cry for several minutes.

A few minutes ago I stumbles upon pictures of children who survived Meningitis. They had amputated limbs; sometimes both arms and legs. Seeing them made me think of my son in the hospital. Surgeons operated on his legs in an effort to try and remove the pressure and swelling. We were told that they'd probably have to amputate. I can't imagine our active big boy having to live with that. I know that he would have been very brave though and found a way to get by. Somewhere I'm relieved that he didn't have to though. Do you understand? Of course I wish with all of my heart that he had survived no matter what.

So, trigger number one for the day. Time to take an anti-anxiety pill before it becomes too bad.

Hard yards.

I'm currently going through a rough patch. It started last night at bedtime and has carried over to today. Everyday I process my grief for my son in different ways. I'll be honest and say that I have a wee cry everyday. Today has been particularly tough. I'm rerunning so many things in my head. Primarily I'm having a hard time dealing with the fact that I got angry with my son on the night before he was hospitalised. He was having difficulty concentrating on his Maths homework and I said something that will haunt me for the rest of my life. We found out later that lack of concentration is a symtom of meningitis. He was already sick. I apologised later when I tucked him up in bed. He asked me to stay for a cuddle, and I did, but I should've stayed longer. Another regret that I will take to the grave.

I also rerun so many moments from the hospital. N saying hello to his Maman, Papa and brother; his last words. The moment that his heart stopped and the shouts for help from the doctors.

Fuck it. I miss him so much. It is an unbearable pain today. I can't go on living like this.