Today is a day where we get to say goodbye to a very close old family friend. Ronnie Docker.
It is not going to be a good day.
It will be, however, a day of reflection and one of many assaults on all my senses.
This year has been one of the worst for a few reasons. This being one of them. I don’t deal with death, or dying very well at all. It’s something I can’t see. Like literally I can’t see.
It might seem cold, and it isn’t. I just can’t deal with it. When my nan died on my dad’s side. She’d been very ill for a long time. I loved going to see them. But, the more she deteriorated, the more I couldn’t cope, in her last few weeks. Both Paul and my dad tried to get me to visit but I couldn’t.
Anorexia and depression already had me in it’s horrible grips as I was awaiting my call to go to Cheadle Royal hospital.
It was at her funeral that the beast took hold completely and over the next few months I lost around more weight than I should have. That day took me back to my earlier years you see, when my grandad died, to where I was being bullied at school left right and centre.
I don’t ever pertain to understand the complex way my mind works. Or in the how I deal with things. I don’t deal with some things very well at all, and that voice in my head just takes over instead. It is what it is. A coping mechanism for feeling.
I am where I am today because of those people and the ED that made me internalise all the things
hateful things anyone ever said.
Today, I am going to allow myself to feel. I am going to say goodbye to a gentleman who brought many things to my life. From your cantankerous old ways to the laughter and fun.
I know who I am, I will remember where I have come from, I will not go backwards, I will be okay.
Ron, where ever you are, be happy. We will miss you lots and lots.