Reflections at 18 Months

Read Time:2 Minute, 46 Second

By Frances Beck

It’s 18 months since you drew your last breath; 18 months of missing you more every day; 18 months of appearing to be locked in a surreal nightmare. 18 months of ‘what ifs’ and unanswered questions; 18 months of trying to understand; 18 months of yearning to see you, speak to you, hug you. 18 months of wishing you were here to share our journeys as we always did; 18 months of tears, heartbreak and frustration. And 18 months of struggling to deal with the reactions of people when I tell them you took your own life.

Reflections-at-18-months-pin - It's 18 months since you drew your last breath; 18 months of missing you more every day; 18 months of appearing to be locked in a surreal nightmare.

It’s 18 months of sharing my memories of you and bringing you into the present along with me; 18 months of keeping on keeping on; 18 months of being grateful for happy and joyous moments, and the love and support of people who really care; 18 months of no longer taking anything for granted; and now, 18 months of perpetual counting.

Somehow I’ve survived

When I started this journey I couldn’t possibly see how I was supposed to survive the devastation and I’m genuinely surprised that somehow I have. Conor took part of me with him and I’m not the same person that I used to be, but I actually believe those changes are for the better. I clearly remember feeling bemused when a ridiculously large number of people expressed their well meaning opinions on how strong I was in the first weeks and months after Conor died. I most certainly didn’t feel it at the time. I was precariously hanging on by my fingertips, concentrating on getting us through each hour and day at a time.

Now, with 18 months’ perspective, I can see and admit to having grown and being stronger than I ever was. And although I am less tolerant of bullshit, I am also more compassionate. Those changes didn’t happen overnight though. It has been a gradual day-by-day process that I committed myself to. It was unconsciously to start and with more purpose as time has marched on. And I’m also in no doubt that it will be a lifelong process, navigated through all of the obstacles listed above.

I can even feel happy

Perhaps understandably, these reflections have brought about irrational feelings of guilt at times. Even more so, over the space of the last month, with the whirlwind of new and exciting things entering our lives. The joy and relief of everything finally moving in a positive direction has been bittersweet at times. How can I have the audacity to feel real happiness and excitement when Conor is no longer physically with us? Thankfully, I’m aware that it’s not logical and in order to survive I need to look for adventure, follow the happiness and and grab this short life with both hands.

Part of it is the fear of leaving Conor behind, but that will categorically never happen. Conor is in my heart and in my thoughts constantly and I’ll carry him with me as I move forward into this new chapter, using that love as purpose and drive. He will be my fundamental motivation as I start my MRes Health Research degree at Stirling University. I’ll take another step towards improving mental health issues and preventing as many suicides as possible. Onwards and upwards.