Hi to everyone that reads this and thanks for taking the time to.

I've bottled this up for a long time and haven't properly spoken to anyone about it. This is the first time I've written it down.

Last year was probably one of the most difficult years of my life.

In January last year, I almost lost my job due to an alcohol fuelled argument with a colleague. I've not been drunk since. In April, I went from a team of three UK-based people at work to one. Me. One guy handed in his notice a few days before another guy didn't return to the country! Fast forward a few weeks and I was working too many hours. I couldn't get out of bed in the mornings and was working from home constantly. I couldn't switch off from work. I now had a colleague remotely on the other side of the world but it was difficult to knowledge share and we were fire-fighting. I worked all the out-of-hours on late evenings / early mornings and sometimes weekends. There was nobody else available to do so. I isolated myself to the point of not going out. Eventually I burnt out and was signed off from work due to anxiety with depression.

After refusing medication for years I realised that I need some help. I was initially prescribed a first-line SSRI which made me feel like a zombie and made me feel like I didn't care. The dosage was increased after two weeks but I eventually went cold turkey. Inadvisable yes, however I had the willpower. I was then prescribed a NaSSA on the lowest dose which started to work after a few weeks. I'm still on it now.

My Dad was then hospitalised for 6 weeks. He had a heart attack, almost died from sepsis (lucky he was in the hospital) and got diagnosed with prostate cancer. My Mum and Dad got divorced when I was a kid but she was going to see him in hospital and helping out as much as she could. After Dad was back home I returned to work on a phased return. The medication was helping me make positive changes gradually.

Now, I've not mentioned this yet but I live a few hours drive away from where I grew up (and where Mum, Dad and other family still live). I drive and have a car but throughout all the turmoil I'd crashed my car too. I left it parked up at home awaiting repairs as insurance were negotiating and it wasn't a priority for me. I'd been travelling back to see my Dad on the train. My brother was working away around the same time too, and he had went out his way to come and pick me up a couple of times. It added a few hours to his journey but he was happy to give me a lift whenever he could.

At the end of November, I'd been back at work for about five weeks. I'd went back on a phased return increasing the number of hours each week. This was my first week of full-time hours but I'd booked the Friday off - I'm relocating soon and wanted to look for properties but tbh I'd felt a bit "off" all week. My sister called me on the Friday morning and told me Mum had been in hospital since the Monday due to sickness, but that some tests were required and she'd need to update me that afternoon. My sister called me about an hour after the appointment to tell me that my Mum had pancreatic cancer. It had already passed to her liver. I wasn't sure what to say or do. Both my sister and I got upset on the phone but we made a pact to stick together and do whatever our Mum needed or wanted.

I decided to stay at home but a couple of days later I broke down in tears and told my housemate. He told me I should head back to see my family. So, on the Monday morning I hired a car for the week and hit the road. From the start it's like Mum accepted her fate. When I went to see her in hospital she told me about what would happen. There were several "procedures' carried out to try prevent the spread of the cancer. Mum refused chemo and radiotherapy as she didn't want to lose her hair and prolong the pain. I returned home after a few days. I told a few of my closest friends and they were inviting me round for tea, going out their way to make sure I was looking after myself properly.

Another week passed, I hired a car for a week again and went to see my Mum. I also took Dad to a couple of hospital appointments. A nuclear test and something else. My sister got married in the hospital. There are still plans for a big ceremony but due to the circumstances my sister had everything sorted quickly. She got married within 6 days of deciding to do so! I got my car fixed and was back on the road. I went away and returned home for a few days. I've never been a fan of Christmas but I drove a 500 mile round trip on the one day as all I wanted to do was spend the last Christmas I could with my Mum. SInce I moved away I've never really bothered with Christmas (we're not a religious family) but I never even wanted any Christmas dinner with rest of the family, it just didn't feel right not having Mum there.

A day or two after Christmas, Mum got moved to a hospice. On New Years Day I drove to see my Mum. She only spoke at first as she was took exhausted. I was there for a few hours. I picked up my brother and the dog too, hoping that Mum might perk up a bit. All afternoon she slept. I couldn't go back home. I stayed for an extra couple of days and on the 2nd and on the 3rd my Mum was sat up talking away, laughing, joking and singing. I went back home on the 3rd happy to know that my Mum was back in good spirits. It was like a second lease of life. One thing however, I'd forgotten my medication for a couple of days. I'd forgotten one day before a few times which didn't really make much difference. I'd never forgotten two days in a row. On the 4th I was a mess. I didn't eat all day, I stayed in bed but didn't sleep much. I was paranoid because my friends hadn't contacted me in a couple of days. I felt like my world was ending and all I could do was cry at the prospect of losing my Mum.

Two days later I marched straight back in to work. I was due back that day anyway. For the first two days everything came flooding back and work served as a welcome distraction. Day 3 was not a good day. I struggle with sensory issues and the lights and the sounds, and EVERYTHING was getting to me. Day 4 I struggled through the day. Day 5 I didn't manage to get to the office. Before I knew it my days off had rolled in to a full week. A few days in to the second week I told my doctor about my Mum, I got signed off work again. I packed my bag and my suitcase and hit the road.

I told myself that I'd be there to help Mum and whoever else for as long as I needed to. Not everyone has a car but I do so I was available to anyone that needed me for lifts etc. I can't remember exact dates towards the end because I don't want to but deep down I knew it was nearing the end. Each and every single time I went to see my Mum there was always someone else visiting. However, one Saturday I went to see my Mum and nobody else was there. I was there for three or four hours I think. The vomiting every few days had increased to I think at least every day. She was uncomfortable and in a lot of pain but my Mum sat up that day and told me that I've done some amazing things in my life, and that she will always be proud of me. Things weren't easy growing up but my Mum was always there for me through my adult years. I'll remember that day for the rest of my life.

The next day I woke up to 19 missed calls. I bounced up and called my sister back. Mum had had a fit in the early hours and my sister was called up to the hospice. I ran to the car and went to pick up my brother and went straight to the hospice. My sister and my Mum's lifelong friend were there. My aunt arrived later too. My Mum was lashing about, she was mumbling. It was like she was in a trance. This went on almost all day until she sadly passed away surrounded by those closest to her.

Literally sitting watching my Mum die in front of my own eyes was distressing. We knew it was going to happen, but everything happened so fast. Mum was never religious, although she was very spiritual. We let her spirit go before we left the room. We took some time to gather our thoughts but we left soon afterwards. The first thing we done was go tell my Dad in person - it felt like it was the right thing to do. They'd divorced years ago but still cared for each other in a way that people who have had a few kids together do. My sister took care of everything from the start but there was a lot to do following my Mum's death. I staryed to help out where I could. After about 10 days I returned home.

Here I'm sitting at nearly 3am. Every now and then I catch myself staring in to space. Each night I've been sleeping, 10 hours, 12 hours, sometimes as much as 14 hours. It's not healthy, I know that. I've tried to reign it in by setting alarms but I end up going back to sleep. I've been struggling with eating too. I've barely exercised either but the past few days I've been making an effort as I have some home gym equipment. The trouble is, I just feel numb most of the time. Occasionally I get a tear in my eye but that's it. As soon as I notice it, it goes. I'm grateful that I have a great employer who has supported me even with a lot of time off, but if I lost my job tomorrow I don't think it would be a big deal. Nothing seems like a big deal right now. I know that my Mum is gone but it just doesn't feel real yet. My sister and brother posted on social media about my Mum's passing after a few days but I personally don't want to. I don't think it's the right thing to do. 

I know everyone grieves differently but have I started yet?