This year marks the 6th anniversary of Dan’s death.

I had quite a wobble. As I have always said, the day after the event is my worst day and the trend continued. I always have a little cry the day after. If I didn’t, I think people would worry about me. This year, it felt like it wa affecting me more than usual. Why though??

Six months ago. I started a new position in a new school. A high school. Going from primary school age to high school age has been interesting to say the least. Both good and bad things. (There would be more good if I didn’t have to wear the bloody COVID masks. It just makes rapport so much harder to achieve) High school kids don’t like being told what to do. They push their boundaries WAY more than primary kids and, because they’re that much older, they understand and can challenge (mostly comically) the boundaries.

Anyway, my point is that it was all new. New people. New rules. New travel route. New start time. No-one that I already knew. No one that knew of my past. Neither of my children were in the school, and none of my family worked there. I first told my manager about those events not too long after I started. I felt that she should be aware. It was shared with a few people-just incase anything triggered something at any point. I mentioned on monday morning that this was- and I quote- my dodgy week. Tuesday (the 8th) I decided to bring some treats in for the staff. My idea being that it was a sad day but we needed to share some happiness and that meant fattening sugary goodness! It was fine. Genuinely fine all day. I had received loads of lovely messages on social media. I’d written a little status and received comments below it. All good. Feeling loved, acknowledged and appreciated.

The 9th of June.

It’s the morning. I’m ok. I do the usual routine. Kids off to school, me off to work. All of a sudden. BOOM. If someone looked at me, I was gone. I sat in the staff room at work and cried. Cried my little heart out. That tiny wail sound that comes out rather than the sigh and sniffling sounds that are more common.

My colleagues took one look at me and we all knew I shouldn’t be there. So, I went home. That’s a lie. I went to my mums and had a cuddle followed by a hot, sweet cup of tea. (We all know that everything can be solved with a cup of tea!) When I got back home, I lay on the sofa and let my body shut down for a bit by going to sleep. Later on that day, my Gran called me and asked if I was feeling ‘it’ more than last year based on a few different things I had done or said in the last few days. That’s when I realised… I was.

So, what’s the actual point to this whole post. Well, I think it’s to 1. Get how I was feeling off my chest, and 2. the realisation that grief can affect you at any point. Even if you think you’re able to manage it. Whether it’s one day after the event, one year, or even ten years.

C x