Rehabilitation

Welcome back to rehab.

This is how it feels to be rehabilitating.

Like you have to pick up your life again and live it. Even though you are not quite sure why you should or how you will.

I've taken this long break to work out where to go next.
There have been interesting conversations about bereavement and emotion. Apparently, John, just like you must have done, I am postponing the heavy duty hurt - or so believes the counsellor.

Another interesting observation is that I have been over-analysing every aspect of your life and death; trying to understand what drove you to take your own life and abandon all that you had in this life.

Too right! I wonder how else you can manage this. Losing you was the biggest shock - not so much how you died, though if you were here now, I would kill you all over again for doing what you did - and passing on the pain to us to live.

I have in my possession the last note that you wrote, and how sad it is. Your first words were those asking us to please forgive you - so you had a complete sense of what you were doing and how "wrong" it must be - and I guess it also means that you knew you would leave some kind of devastation behind you. If only you knew, sweet silly man. I am not sure it would make you think twice about what you have done and how it has left us.

So, sometimes John, I think about you and how your legacy to us is very much what you yourself must have been experiencing - this feeling of swimming in a mire of uncertainly - of getting why and what keeps us here, but not really having a guide to pull you through to the medium and long term. In essence then, we live in our present and reflect on the past. Perhaps we don't think much about the future, because a crucial element is missing: you. Not much fun to look forward any more.

Only in short bursts anyway. For now.

We miss you as much as the first day - be sure of that wherever you are.