Conflict: Nicole’s Shared Experience
This article shows the raw and visceral emotions of suicide loss, and of the feelings to navigate particularly in the early stages of loss. This article is powerful and honest, but it could also be challenging to read. Please remember our Helpline is open Monday - Friday 9am - 9pm, and you can call on 0800 054 8400 to speak to a bereavement counsellor.
I lost my dad on the 25th June 2022. I feel strange even typing that out, never mind having to say it out loud. I’m 23 and I grew up in Greater Manchester, but moved to Edinburgh for my studies when I was 19. I grew up visiting my dad at the weekends. He called me his soulmate; we were that close. He had always been an emotionally intelligent man. He was soft and kind and felt all of his feelings so much, all of the time. I blame myself for ignoring the signs, although I am told on a weekly basis that it is not my fault, it manifests in ways that I can share in this article.
I think firstly, it was just numb. A dull ache surging in my chest and stomach. I have recently noticed that when I am going over events in my head, or arguments or anything of the sort, the tears don’t come out as easily as a sharp pain leaking through my face and head, throbbing. This pain is physical and demands so much attention as I try to push it all down because I'm trying to sleep or eat, or walk somewhere. I feel like I am always trying to swallow a lump in my throat, I can’t cry. I’m so tired of crying, I’m so tired full stop. Nothing is fun anymore and everything reminds me of him. The guilt is so consuming it feels like I am going to die. I feel so ill will guilt I hardly feel like myself most days. Just like a shell. But I have to go back to work and smile, and go back to school and be nice, even though I am hateful all the time. Hate and anger are so quick to show it's like I don’t even know what he’s done to me. And that’s that. I am hurting because he left me, I feel so rejected and it physically feels like a big gaping hole. I love him and hate him so much it’s a conflict that is a constant. I have never felt grief like this. And I don’t believe I ever will again. I am angry at the world and I don’t know who I am anymore. I miss him more than I can ever put into words. He was made to be a dad, he gave everything. And I will never be able to say thank you to him.
His name was Mark. He was 44, an excellent footballer, had amazing taste in music. He supported Liverpool FC and was a Graphic designer. Had a keen eye for detail and was handy with a paintbrush. Artist, dad, husband, and friend to so many. He was the kindest person I had the privilege to know.
Written by Nicole Willis
