I spoke to someone from Cruse on the phone the other day, exploring options for counselling. I ain’t optimistic that it will help, but it’s on my list of potential strategies to ease the pain. Eh? What else is on the list? Erm, not an awful lot really. Time and wine basically. The former relentless and the latter not a good model for life in the long term.
Anyway, the Cruse woman was horrified by what had happened. Audibly horrified. Everyone has been. But her response, given that she works for a grief gig, got me thinking about what could be worse. Doing that ordering/othering thing we all do at some point or another. Measuring our own experiences against those who seem to have worse experiences to try and gain some sense of something. I decided that having a child taken by someone, treated violently and eventually killed was worse. Definitely worse.
This morning I thought about what had happened to LB. The extended restraints, the drugging, and the length of time he spent in the unit. In the ‘care’ of the state, rather than at the hands of a random individual.
It doesn’t get much worse.