Too Many Loves, Too Many Losses

Sometimes I wonder whether dying would be better. I've lost too much.

My beautiful six year old daughter, Izzie,muddied seven years ago in an RTA. My husband died with her. A dangerous driver had collided head on. That driver had been driving on the wrong side of the road. Because of that, I lost the lights of my lives, Sam and Izzie. I have four other children by Sam, the only part of him and me shared. I miss Izzie daily. A constant, chronic pain. And Sam mixes with that. All I can feel is an agonising pain. Sometimes I want to die just to escape this nightmare. Sometimes I try to wake myself up and hope this is just a dream, and I'll wake up to have Sam kiss me, and Izzie and my other children run up with drawings they did in school, or to show me a new dance move Izzie learnt at tap class.

My father died when I was eight. He had cancer, it dominated our lives from when I was three and a half. I can't remember a healthy dad. I can remember the funeral. Going to a grave with a drawing. My step dad moving in when I was fourteen, and how he tried to sort my life out. It had been a cycle of trauma and depression for my mother, and in turn, us.

I never met three of my grandparents. They died before I was born. I never really cared much. I was interested, and sometimes got crabby if everyone started reminiscing about them and I was left out. But my grandma died when I was twelve. She watched her only son die, and I then watched her, slowly weaken, slipping away in her sleep.

I have watched two friends die. One had Early Onset Dementia. Her husband was her carer, and I helped. I thought losing her had plunged me into the worst pain of my life. Three years later, my son and husband died. My second committed suicide when she was sixteen. One overdose, a note, just like a movie. Only real.

My grandma, my dad, my two friends. My husband. My daughter.

I survived leukaemia as a child. Sometimes I wonder if dying would be better than th hell of losing my child and being widowed. But then is never know my friends, never meet Sam, never see Izzie. But I do wonder.
SummerRainSparkles SummerRainSparkles
36-40, F
2 Responses Feb 17, 2013

Wow! I'm so sorry.

My daughter died. Not muddied. She died, and I live with it everyday.