Taking Control

Evie’s death changed me. It changed everything about me. It has changed me in ways that I would not have thought possible. I am a very different person now, my core values are different. Moreover, I realised that for a long time I had become reactive, rather than pro-active. Partly, I think that this was due to the lack of energy, the inevitable exhaustion that affects all of us that have lost children. But it was also caused by a lack of self-confidence. I failed to keep Evie alive, so my small-bear brain worried that my decision-making processes had been compromised, so I would wait until a decision had to be made before I committed myself. The rights and wrongs of that feeling aren’t the point of this blog though.

In the 2 years since Evie’s death, no-one has sought to benefit from my grief, or take advantage of the situation; until now. I won’t mention any names, but suffice to say that I should have seen it coming. I was discussing the particular incident that made me think about it with Pats when the penny dropped. That in turn got me thinking about the whole reactive/pro-active thing.

I have always been ready and willing to discuss death and grief openly, taking control of how I interact with others. Not accepting their willingness to hide form the death of my daughter. I’m open and honest about Evie’s death at all times, which I know can be difficult for some to read but try living it. It might even act as a barrier to their continued friendship, but I believe that I owe it to Evie to show the world what she meant to me; what her short life was worth. As I’ve said before, if people can’t cope with my pain, then that’s just tough. Try living my life for a day before you pass judgement. This blog is a case in point, so is Eggshells; the world doesn’t talk enough about the death of a child and needs to, especially where people need support or a shoulder to lean on. But I hadn’t really given any thought to taking back control of the wider aspects of my life because I hadn’t realised that they had been affected as much as they have; that I had changed in that way. I certainly hadn’t given any consideration to the fact that someone might deliberately choose to benefit from my weakened state.

Taking back control of my life is something that will not come easily as it will require energy and focus; things that I have to fight to maintain. I need to develop new routines and force myself to do things. Not easy, but entirely do-able. How grief affects everyone else will be very different from how it affects me, but the exhaustion and self-confidence issues seem to be common across the board. If we can overcome those issues, or at least make inroads into them, then we stand a chance of tackling the problem of lack of control. When you track the problem back to its source, you see that the whole ‘failing to keep Evie alive’ is the trigger. But by stepping forward a little, you realise that taking control once more solves a whole load of other related problems, one of which is that I frequently feel overwhelmed by work and things to do, even though I can sort it all out quickly with a little application.

The important point for me to make here is that it most definitely isn’t about getting back to the old me; I don’t want that as Evie’s death has changed me and I must acknowledge that. It is about strengthening the new me, and taking control of my own destiny once again, being responsible for the direction that I head off in. It is about developing ‘workarounds’ while I figure out a long-term solution. If I can do that, I can keep the workload and chores under control, I can fend off the feelings of inadequacy, and I can spot the folks out there that aren’t pulling their weight or are seeking to benefit.

It most definitely won’t be a quick fix. For the moment though, a certain card has now most definitely been marked. This person has made a fatal error - they have pissed me off and sought to benefit from my daughter’s death. Bad move sunshine, because now I’m annoyed.