One moment, you're a child getting a hot water bottle and soup when you're sick and the next... You're an adult.
It's felt a bit like I'm watching my life from the sidelines, recently.
Oscar died four weeks ago today and it's three days until the fifth which will be the official '1 Month Anniversary'.
It's odd because I don't normally have 'out of body experiences' but it's been a long few months.
Oscar dying has affected me more than I could ever have known and I cry now. Randomly. At least twice a week.
I'm a terrible over-thinker and anything could make me cry.
Thinking about him for two long, hearing a bell that sounds like his, the fact that his food bowl now holds my keys...
They say there are five stages of grief. I kinda figured they'd come in order and that, once I hit acceptance, I'd be okay again. That doesn't really happen.
My experience has been a learning curve.
Denial: I've never really been good with denial. For some reason, my brain just won't let me deny the unfortunate facts. The only times I've had moments of it has been whenever I think I hear him. Even if I'm seconds from falling asleep, I'll get out of bed and go to check - just in case.
He's never there but I have to make sure.
I always return to bed disappointed.
Anger: Again, this isn't a major stage for me. I'm not an angry person because I hate the feeling I have when I'm angry, It's a wasted emotion. It doesn't help you get better. It just helps you be mad. If that makes sense.
I have had moments where I'm mad/sad that he's gone. I just don't get it. I don't understand why he's gone when there were so many things we had to do together, so many years I needed to be with him. It doesn't make sense.
Bargaining: The amount of times I've begged God to swap my sister or myself for Oscar is embarrassing... I don't mean it in a nasty way. I just want him home. I want my baby back. He never comes though and God never answers. If God hears me, he's not replying.
Depression: Sadly, this stage is the one I have the most experience with. I suffered with depression after I stopped being friends with two of my best friends back in 2011 and it's never gone away entirely. The only difference now is that it's not as powerful. I'm coping better.
Sadly, it does mean that these last four weeks have been a really difficult struggle.
There are times when I just don't want to be here because Oscar's in heaven and he's 'waiting for me'. It comes and goes like the tide but it's not really gotten any easier. Like I thought it would. I have hope though.
Acceptance: Strangely enough, I do accept that he's gone. I accept he's not coming back.
I just wish he was. I want to hold him and love him and bug him constantly. Coming home isn't as fun lately. I don't rush, I don't get excited. I used to call his name whenever I'd come home and he'd rarely respond but coming home to him made every hardship I had that day or that week seem a little easier to handle.
There's nothing I don't miss about Oscar. Nothing. I don't expect that to ever go away.
I just wish I had more videos of him. I snapchatted him constantly but that's not the same.
I burst into tears last week because I couldn't remember the way his meow sounded.
The three main moments, mentioned in the title, have been:
The day after he died, the one-week anniversary and the day we brought his ashes home.
Each of those days were significant because they were moments I truly realized he was gone. The day we brought him home was almost as hard as the day he died. I had him, in my arms, in a box. A box. A little, round, green box with his name on it.
I'll never forget that day. I collected him and burst into tears. When I got home, I took him out and just held him while I talked to my mum for about an hour. I didn't let him go for one second.
He sleeps on my bed now, with his collar beside him.
I have amazing friends though. The girl I met at college has listened to every part of this journey and never judged me - even when I've said ridiculous things. I love her for that.
And my best friend from school? She messages me every single day to make sure I'm okay.
I have other friends who have sent their condolences and shared experiences and it does help.
I just have to accept that this chapter of my life is going to be the hardest but it will get easier, with time.
Until it does, I'm going to keep being that weird girl who carries her dead cat's collar around wherever she goes but I'm okay with that.
Let's just hope June is better.
Jessica
xoxo
