Missing You is the Hardest Part

Read Time:3 Minute, 17 Second

By Frances Beck

I miss my boy soooo much! More than I could ever explain. That’s the hardest part of this grief thing that I’m still trying to get my head around. I’m still struggling with all the questions that I have and will probably never get answers to, but that pales in comparison to missing him.

I miss everything about him

I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve thought, ‘Oh I must tell Conor that,’ only to feel like the stuffing has been kicked out of me yet again, when the realisation that I can’t just phone or message him hits fractions of a second later. I miss his dry, wicked sense of humour, his big bear hugs, his calming disposition and sound advice, his loving and affectionate ways, him holding my hand, his company that was always comfortable whether we were chatting or sitting in companionable silence, him always offering to help me with whatever I was doing, his stubbornness and well-honed sense of self.

I miss everything about him, including all his flaws that made him human and just Conor. He was never one for false pretences. He expected everyone to take him for exactly who he was, or he’d happily turn and walk away. My tears are flowing again as I’m writing this, and Conor’s cat has come over to try and comfort me. At the same time, the tiniest white feather has just floated down from above us. People can say and think what they like, but I believe that these are signs that Conor is trying to let me know that he’s never far from me. As much as that’s a comfort, it doesn’t make me miss him any less.

We have such a long way to go

Saturday was the 5 month (so long, yet only yesterday) anniversary of his death. I marked it by going to Glasgow Pride with my friends. I joined the last part of the 12,000 strong march to support the need for equality for the LGBT+ community. As a society we’ve come a long way. But I saw for myself that we have such a long way to go. Lack of acceptance and bigotry are still rife. It’s no surprise that mental illness is much higher in the LGBT+ community than in the general population.

Apart from the well reported problems of getting into the venue, and a couple of emotional wobbles, it was a great day. Seeing people celebrate their own uniqueness and being able to be themselves in a safe and accepting environment was a breath of fresh air. I wasn’t sure about the actual documented figures of mental illness amongst the LGBT+ community. So I’ve been researching, and I was really quite shocked.

Appropriate support services are crucial

Gay men are twice as likely to experience depression, and almost 10 times as likely to die from suicide, as straight men. Gay women are even more likely to experience depression, and more attempt suicide, than gay men. These figures are higher still amongst bisexual and transgender individuals. This is still not being fully acknowledged or effectively tackled with appropriate support services. I look forward to seeing how the Scottish government are planning to see that it is, in their new Suicide Prevention Action Plan.

I also read today that 50% of adult mental health issues start by the age of 14, and 75% start by the age of 18 years, but many young people are unable to access appropriate support services at early critical points. How can that be in any way acceptable? There is much to be done to address the lack of effective and timely support services for every individual who needs them and, possibly more importantly, to promote good mental health and to try to prevent mental health issues from a young age. We all need to take responsibility for ensuring that this happens.