On… the other thing

Okay, so I’m just going to close my eyes and hold my nose and jump into the water: yes, last year was a challenge in a few key ways. I didn’t talk about it here or anywhere else, I just threw myself into writing and my tiny sons and happy things like movies and TV shows and books and music. (And beauty products, natch.) I didn’t want to focus on sadness, or burden other people with it. I would always – pathetically – much rather laugh and feel good and make other people laugh and feel good, too. I even remember trying to comfort near-strangers at my own father’s funeral. (“Oh, it’s okay, thank you, it’s fine, no no, it’s fine, don’t worry, how are YOU?” etc. Who does that? I mean, seriously.) And having a job where I have to make up shit for a living – where I have to think like another person in another life – is the best for avoiding bad feelings. Who’s sad? Not me! I’m pretending to not be me. All good here.

Writers: totally delusional, in the best possible way.

Anyway. Then my friend asked me if I’d write something for her post about what 2017 taught people, and we deliberated a bit because I’m boringly private and tend to keep social media stuff to personality not personal… and then I thought, well, fuck it. This has sucked, if someone else is going through something similar, I want her to know she’s not alone. So, person out there who is having a hard time: you are not alone.

I’m glad I did. I’ve received so many emails from lovely women offering support and empathy. Thank you, lovely women.

2018 will be better.

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9 thoughts on “On… the other thing

  1. Amanda

    Gemma,
    I’ve loved your blog and thoughts and writing since your Cup of Jo Beauty Uniform. You are a thrill. Thank you for sharing this. Pain is so private, but I must be have come across this at the right time. My family and I are going through some heavy sh*t at the moment and although it’s not quite the same as what you’ve been dealing with, it’s oddly comforting to read your words on loss and feel a sense of ‘Ah, yeah. Eventually things will be OK.’ It’s a small bit of relief and reassurance so truly thank you for posting. Sending you hugs and good vibes. You are braver than you know and I’m so sorry you’ve had to weather that heartbreak on three occasions.

    xoxo,
    Amanda

    Reply
    1. GemmaBurgess Post author

      Dear Amanda, thank you so much, and I’m so sorry for everything you’re going through right now, too. I agree that it is good to know – and true! – that one day everything will be okay. You just have to white-knuckle your way through the storm and come out the other side into sunnier weather… I hope that you’re giving yourself lots of time to sleep and – if possible – laugh. And try to cuddle a small child or a dog every day. xxx

      Reply
  2. Raphaele

    Girl we are stronger than 2017

    I did not know your Dad was gone, i am sorry, i always liked him as described in a girl like you
    My dad left us in 2017, it is a story for a book really: a stroke while on holidays in south america, suddently i was in an Almodovar movie, jet lagged ( had to rush there from oz) in a hospital, my dad hooked to a machine, everthing in Spanish and me, my 3 sisters and mum crying non stop….
    So i take comfort in knowing you seem to be ok about your Dad

    Please take comfort in knowing your three little angels will always be with you
    I have 2 … i had no issues getting my first two babies, and never thought i d have any issues. For the first one, When they said there s no heart beat at the 12 weeks scan i was stunned! And then it wouldn’t happen, they gave me pills to trigger things that made me super sick, i did not sleep, but nothing happened, i was traveling for work with a ticking ‘dead baby bomb’ inside….ah the fun i had!!! The second miscariage was on Halloween, i mean Come On Life ! How do you come up with that shit! The girls went trick treating with Daddy and i went to the hospital, on my own.
    Anyway lots of fun times… but i am good about that now. And so will you!

    The hardest for me was deciding i did not want to try anymore, sometimes i still think maybe we should try, my husband is keen. It is a grieving process in itself, the closing down of the baby factory. But i can’t go through any more of that kind of pain and i have my 2 healthy red haired girls. Some people aren’t as lucky
    Happy 2018.

    Reply
  3. Francesca

    I, too, am so sorry for your losses, and grateful to you for sharing your pain. It is so hard to talk about our own grief, but if there is any silver lining in enduring losses/tragedies, it’s that they can bring people together. But only if we share our experiences. So, thank you for being brave and building bridges. You are strong and wonderful.

    Reply

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