I started writing this post a couple of weeks after I lost Bella. Reading about my friend Jen’s loss of her second beloved companion animal in a month – and the doubling of grief that brings – I feel compelled to finish it.

I’ve discovered, or rather confirmed, a few suspicions in the past 12 days.

Love Bug is a grot. Seriously, the amount of food that kid drops and or spills is outrageous. Unlike Bella, Beary is not one to hoover up scraps, so I find myself cleaning around her a lot more.

Walking through the front door is the worst part of my day. Well, one of them at least. Even approaching the door to no rhythmic thump thump thumping of her tail on the wall behind the front door is awful.

This morning I did my make up before work. I am wearing mascara. This is a huge step forward. I haven’t put it on for the last three weeks out of fear I’ll resemble a panda by days’ end.

It was good in theory, and lasted a few hours. Then the lapping waves of grief grew larger and pulled me into a rip. From walking along the shore I was suddenly in the middle of a perfect storm. A panda being tossed around in waves, not sure where the surface is, unable to see the light of day.

Back to today – 1 June. After a patchwork night of insomnia and dreams of drowning under a sea of tears, I am exhausted. Bone tired. Feel as though I could sleep for a week.

As I tried to fall asleep last night, I checked my phone a million times. Ridiculous really as I’m not quite sure who I was expecting to hear from at midnight. No-one. Someone. Anyone. My phone felt like a lifeline keeping me away from the waves.

If I lay awake, the dreams won’t come. Yet, if I am dreaming I won’t have to face the emptiness of being awake. Of missing loves from your life and feeling it with a crushing force.

Awake I could breathe, albeit with some effort. Asleep the water filled my lungs.

I am wearing mascara today. I’m not so sure that was the best idea.