I started this 6 days ago so bear with me.
Day 12. 23.41pm. Every day seems like it gets harder and more painful in different ways. For this blog post I’m going to explain what happened and what has happened in the past 12 days as best I can.
Jerry and I booked to go to Pangkor back in October. We had a count down for the holiday which I saw on my phone today and it made me feel sick. JP had been working really hard on the food truck, we’d been apart because of Christmas and so it seemed like the perfect time for a short and cheap holiday.
We stayed in the cutest bungalow and we hung out, went to the beach, played with a cat etc.
Jerry took this photo and it’s his last Instagram photo.
So yeah we were having a fab time doing not that much and it wasn’t even sunny but we didn’t care (I cared a bit). The night before the accident Jerry said to me that I was the centre of all his decisions from here on out. We had a sort of plan for life and we were untouchable.
On Wednesday we decided to rent a motorbike. A very standard thing to do in Malaysia. We went to Hornbill Resort to hire the bike and a man said ok and then a different man came with the bike. It cost me 40rm. We took helmets and JP tested the bike as best as he could. We set off and Jerry said the brakes were a bit shit but we tested if we could stop and we could. We stopped here and I took these photos:
11.18am. We got back on the bike and started going down a hill. Jerry said to me that the brakes weren’t working. We were picking up speed. I said he needed to take his feet off the floor as he was trying to stop the bike with his feet. I thought he might break his ankle. He started pulling off his helmet because he said it was falling over his eyes. Then we took a corner too fast and hit into the barrier that is at the side of most Malaysian roads to hold the jungle back. Before we hit I screamed and Jerry took his hands off the handlebars and braced his body in front of me. I shouted “don’t do that it’s really dangerous” and then we went head on into the wall.
When I woke up I was in an ambulance in my underwear. I could tell that my face was not ok. I asked where Jerry was and a man said “He’s dead.” That was that. Apparently three hours had passed and I’d been unconscious. I had to be sedated again because I was hysterical.
What happened for the next 5 days is a blur of hell whilst I remained in hospital. I had to see Jerry’s body. I saw that he had died from lung and abdominal trauma. His face and head were flawless but he had a really horrible expression on his face. I had an operation on my nose which splintered into 20 pieces apparently. They showed me a pot of my removed nasal bone which I just stared at. I had my lip reattached because it was lacerated. I had it under local anaesthetic so I can remember watching them thread my face back together. I have no front tooth. I felt nothing about any of it. Numb to all physical pain and all I saw was a big black bottomless hole and all I thought was “Jerry you need to come back.”
I was discharged from hospital. We have been to Kuala Lumpur and had JP cremated. It was the worst day of my life to date. I’ve been through panic attacks, numbness, complete emotional breakdowns, anger…I’ve been through every negative emotion going.
Grief is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. It is all consuming and it’s traumatising and so painful. The pain in my heart all of the time is indescribable. I can’t feel any emotions properly so I’m either an extreme version of every negative emotion or completely detached. I can’t taste food properly, I don’t sleep properly, I barely understand who I am when I see myself in the mirror. I remind myself all the time that Jerry is dead so that maybe if I keep saying it I might accept it. I cry so intensely and it still provides no relief. I require pep talks to get out of bed everyday. The person I really need to talk about this is Jerry. Jerry will never be here again. I talk about him all the time and then I get upset. I get angry at him for dying. I get angry at myself for allowing this to happen. I think about alternative realities. I wonder if actually I’m just in a coma and Jerry is alive and he’s waiting for me to wake up. I try to work out why this is happening to me. I get anxious about everything. I get annoyed every time someone asks me “how are you doing?” Let’s just assume I’m not okay. I dont want to hear anything about time or how you feel it will heal or help me. I ignore most people. I feel like punching anyone I see on social media complaining about anything. I try to think about the day after tomorrow and I get nothing. I read Jerry’s messages to remember he exists and then I send messages and get one tick and feel sick. I think about how Jerry won’t ever see this day. I think about how it’s only ever going to get further away from when I last saw him. I feel sad all the time and like I’ve lost a limb. Every time I fall asleep I have awful dreams and wake up in tears. I remember more and more about what happened and what I did and said in the ambulance and the hospital. I screamed at the doctor “Don’t touch my bracelets” because they were going to cut the bracelets Jerry bought me. I vomited blood all over the room numerous times because I’d be swallowing the blood from my nose for hours when unconscious. I wished for it to end and bargained for that quite a lot of times. “I just need Jerry to come back” and “I’m so sad” are my most used phrases.
It’s truly exhausting. It’s time consuming. It’s not what I’m meant to be doing in 2018. I’ve no rule book and I’ve no solution to this situation.
Tomorrow I’m leaving Koh Lipe and I want to write about that separately. I miss JP more than it is even possible to think about properly myself. I don’t allow myself to because I’m worried what might happen. You think you can’t feel worse and then you do and that’s quite stressful.
I’m forever grateful for the helpful, beautiful souls who are literally keeping me alive day to day.
Jerry you really are loved by many and we are all suffering now because of it. Good job you were worth it. Thank you for stopping bugs from biting me cos I’ve hardly had any bites and you know I get allergic reactions to them.
Next up a slightly more well structured and less angry post about Koh Lipe. This one is as disjointed as my brain right now.
2 thoughts on “What happened + grief part 1.”
Just sending my love (for what it’s worth).
I am truly humbled by your ability to write your feelings on this blog in such a relatable way. I have no words to offer you comfort, none that will be meaningful enough for your loss. I don’t know you, but I am sending you so much love