Let’s talk about death for a second. It’s not a nice subject, but it’s one I’ve had lots of firsthand experience with, not like that, so put the phone down. A little bit of humour to ease the heavy subject.

It’s the final journey we all go on at the end of the day. Plus, it’s a fear a lot of us will have, as what’s waiting for us on the other side is a big debate all over the world. I myself used to be very scared of it until I went through a very bad depressive time in 2018, and from then on it hasn’t been something I fear. Experiencing the grief I have too has helped in a way, but that’s not the main subject.

The first death of a loved one came when I was eight years old. My Nana on my dad’s side. It was sudden and unexpected. I was upset and cried a lot, and when the funeral came around, I remember the atmosphere was heavy with all the emotion, and I was more inquisitive than I was upset; it was my first funeral. Grief only lasted a little while. I think I was too young to properly process everything, but I knew there was no getting her back. I even started laughing and joking at the wake after the funeral.

Things started getting serious when the next death hit me. In 2010, a close family friend died of an accidental drug overdose, and even though I didn’t go to the funeral, it hit hard, and my thirteen-almost-fourteen-year-old brain was old enough to process this, and I was getting over the grief when, less than a year later, in February 2011, my dad died of cancer. I knew it was coming, and in the year and a bit he had it, it was the hardest internal battle I had to fight. It was from that point that my mental health declined, and I still haven’t recovered. A year later in 2012, when I was 15, I lost a friend to suicide. Three deaths In three years and the manner of death for them. I was broken and felt numb. That’s when Grief first hit, a longing in my gut to speak with one of them. Happiness was a distant memory, but I still had time to process each death with time before the next one. But I have gone through worse.

From December 2022 to January 2024 I lost four people. A really close family friend, my Nana, my Uncle, and my Grandad. Nothing I say can prepare you for how bad I was after my grandad died. Four funerals in 12 months. That’s a pain I would not wish on anyone. I am glad I started writing poetry because that’s been an outlet for all the pent-up emotion that’s always on the verge of spilling over.

Grief changes you. I’m not the same person I was prior to December 2022. I’m not the same person I was prior to February 2011. There are two other versions of me; all will have lived life differently if these deaths didn’t happen.

Jimmy Carr is an example of grief changing a person. Ever since Sean Lock’s death, Jimmy has been almost a spokesperson on grief. His gigs now feature him reading messages from audience members, and there are a few which really hit home. He’s talked to people going through depression, cancer, and overcoming other obstacles.

Grief will hurt us, but we have to learn to live with it. At the end of the day you have the power to take control of it.