What have those who write under a pseudonym got to hide?
Loucy Lamb is not my given name. You would think writing about my most intimate feelings over losing my mum and laying all my vulnerabilities bare as a parent and out there for all the world to see my name would be the least of my worries.
Let me give you some context.
Before my mum died I had been very fortunate in that I had not lost anyone as close to me as her. Yes I’ve lost grandparents but only when I was young so I can’t really say that their loss had as much of an impact. I was sad and I still miss them of course, but you almost expect a grandparent to die because they’re old, I never expected my mum to die and I think that’s what makes the grief more intense. My mum was one of the greatest loves of my life, I never went a day without speaking to her or more than 2 days without seeing her ( apart from when I moved to Cyprus to live for a year but we still Skyped daily). Wherever my mum went I would follow, people called me her shadow, I hope now she’s mine.
“My mother taught me everything except how to live without her”
I had always been naive about grief, I’d heard colleagues at work talk about losing their mums and I’d think ” aww that’s sad” but I never really considered what it would feel like because I never truly believed it would ever happen to me, especially not at the age of 30. It is all consuming and it literally takes your breath away. I found myself in a world devoid of colour and I began to understand what it meant to have a heavy heart. My heart was made of lead and on the day she died a very big part of me died too. I swear I heard my heart shatter when I heard those word “your mum’s dead”. I struggle to put into words exactly what it feels like to loose someone who’s life you loved more than your own, who was more a part of you than you are now.
Grief is a lifetime experience and whilst time calms the intensity of the grief, it is still always there. To be grieved is to be emotionally and physically invested in the loss of a loved one and this can be draining. I spent so long torturing myself with the way my mum died, asking questions that would never be answered and wondering where she was now. Agonising over what I would never have and all that I had lost.There were so many things left unsaid and I couldn’t think of anything else in the beginning because my grief was all consuming. I was torn and tormented because on the one hand I didn’t want to stop missing her or thinking about her but at the same time I needed some respite, I needed a moment where none of this had happened and I could breathe freely. I did get these little moments at times where I did forget that she had died, either when I first woke up in the morning or where I was successfully distracted by something else. I call these moments pieces of peace. It was in these moments that I could feel nothing, like when there’s been a background noise for so long and it stops, the silence initially is defeating but is also a relief. They were few and far between but these pieces of peace I needed to be able to carry on a little bit further.
What has all this got to do with writing under a pseudonym? Well I am hiding nothing by using a different name just to let you know, but I suppose by writing under a different name allows me to detach from what I’ve written. Writing about my mum causes me a lot of heartache and pain and whilst I very much enjoy it, afterwards I can be prone to losing sight of the reason I write and slip back into torturing myself over her loss. Yes I am in a much better place but it is still a very recent occurrence and I am not able to always process my grief.
I can step away from the content written by Loucy Lamb and have a piece of peace moment so I’m ready to embrace my grief when it comes back, as me.