Grief and anxiety, loss and uprooting
Rhys lost both his parents on the same date, 10 years apart. How did he deal with that double tragedy?
MARK: July is a sad month for you, Rhys. Do you want to explain why?
RHYS: July marks the anniversary of my mum and dad passing away. They both died on July 29, ten years apart. It is five years since mum passed away – and that was on the 10th anniversary of Dad's death.
It has gotten easier as the years go by, but as anyone who's ever dealt with grief knows, especially when it comes to a parent passing away, it is difficult. I used to feel so sad, and I couldn't help but ask the question "Why?"
In the end I came to accept it and now I have nothing but happy memories.
MARK: You’re only 31. That’s a lot to live with. Let’s talk about Glyn – your Dad, my brother, first. You were 16, doing GCSEs when he finally succumbed to cancer of the oesophagus. Tell us a little about your relationship with him and, looking back, how you coped at the time.
RHYS: From all that I remember of my Dad, me and him had a great relationship. Mum and Dad split up when I was 3 years old, so with my two older sisters, I would go and stay round his place every Saturday. I looked forward to it. Then one year, when I had just turned 14/15, he moved into a new house with his partner, and asked if I wanted to move in with them. And I said ‘yes’.
I don't regret it because I got to spend time with him – time which would turn out to be very limited. But it did break my mum's heart when I moved out. That part I deeply regret.
MARK: Can you remember what led you to make that decision? I suppose at that age it’s just so easy to be swept up in events and other people’s plans. I should have realised at the time what a wrench it must have been for you.
RHYS: It was a snap decision, really. I remember spending a lot of time with just the two of them. We even went away to the south of France and had a lovely time. When they made the decision to move into a house together they asked if I'd like to move in with them.
When I moved in with my Dad and C. It was great at first, and I went back to my mum’s when I could, usually every weekend. So it was like roles were reversed for a while.
Then the dreaded diagnosis came that he had cancer. Back then, I hadn't experienced grief in any way shape or form, so I didn't really know how to process it. He lasted a year on chemotherapy, so we all had time to prepare for the inevitable. He died at home, not long after his 53rd birthday.
Glyn in southern Spain, early 2000s
MARK: Did you get the help and support you wanted then? Or did you just want to be left alone?
RHYS: Oh tremendously. First of all, my family was brilliant. Mental health wasn't an issue for me back then, but we were all grieving in our own ways. But from what I remember, my eldest sister Amanda and my mum both agreed that Dad's death changed me. Whether that's good or bad, I'll never know.
The only person that I don't feel supported me – or anyone – was my Dad's widow – my stepmother. She was quite cold towards me and clearly wanted rid of me as soon as Dad passed away, for reasons that I won't go into. She wanted mum to take me back in. And as time went on, I spent less time in the house and would find myself after college just going round mum’s for a few hours because that's where I was happiest.
MARK: I don’t remember the question of counselling coming up. That’s mad, really. This was 2007, not the Dark Ages. You were doing your GCSEs as Glyn was living through his last weeks. And it wasn’t just you: his widow pretty soon cut off any contact with our family.
Do you remember, I took you, C. – Glyn’s widow – her daughter and her boyfriend to a place in Devon so we could all celebrate Glyn’s life – but also bond and look to the future.
That was a pretty forlorn attempt in the end and in my arrogance I thought I could help set everyone on a good course.
I did have some long and deep conversations with C. She wasn’t a bad person. But she obviously felt that she had to make a new life and she couldn’t offer you what you needed. And what you needed was hard to know at that time. I think you were pretty shell-shocked, but polite, helpful, putting on a brave face on it all.
We were way out of our depth and should have got professional help.
RHYS: I do remember that trip. We had a lovely time and I did get the sense that my time at the house was coming to an end in a way so I appreciated that trip away.
In my current mindset at the time the question of counselling wouldn't have come up as I felt perfectly fine. Perhaps I was in denial.
Then I don't know what came over me, but one day after one of the many arguments me and C. had – "You need to get a job" or " You're never here" – I just got sick of it and told her I was moving out. So come to think of it, I could feel it was affecting my mental health. I just couldn’t articulate that at the time.
But in the end everyone sort of saw her for who she was when she cut them out of her life.
After that I was happy, and our family grew stronger. And I know Dad would be proud of all of us.
MARK: Then you went back to live with your mum…how did that go?
RHYS: It went great. As soon as I went back to live at mum’s, I was happier, I was living with someone who'd make me laugh. Also, my mum was disabled after an accident and had to use a wheelchair. So, me helping her around the house/shopping/taking her to see our grandparents was the distraction I needed. I can't imagine doing all of that while working a full-time job. But I'd do anything to have that responsibility again.
MARK: Because she died, too – far too young.
RHYS: Yes. It was a very short illness. I remember the last time I ever took her out. It was just a short trip to the bank and afterwards I asked if she wanted to go to Asda on the way back, and she said no, because she felt like she was having a panic attack. She had suffered from agoraphobia in recent years, and it had been maybe a week since she had been outside, so I think something like that had resurfaced.
Within the space of a week, maybe more, she was REALLY unwell. She wouldn't get out of bed and I was struggling to get her to eat. One day I came back – I'd had a good day at a job I loved, it was payday, I should've been happy – but I was dreading coming home to an unwell mother.
I won't go too far into it, but she was in a bad state so I had to call for an ambulance. We followed her to the hospital, waited until 5am on the 29th of July 2017, when she passed away due to Pneumonia, sepsis, and poor mobility.
It was the worst night of my life. I just wanted to be left on my own all the time after that. Which was a difficult thing to do as obviously a traumatic event like this makes people come together. But I was mainly thinking about the house being left unoccupied, and as stupid as it sounds, I was worrying constantly about my cats.
Dealing (and not dealing) with pain and loss
MARK: There is so much to unpack her that we’ll need another edition of the blog – more than one. But to finish, let’s talk a little about the relationship of grieving with anxiety.
RHYS: The thing is, I didn't really give myself much time to grieve, I believe it was a week, maybe 10 days before I went back to work. Which, don't get me wrong, I was raring to do, but while doing that I was dealing with an upcoming job interview (an interview I never got to tell my mum about before she died: which saddens me). I left my job to go to my new one. I had to go through training for something that in the future would cause me deep stress. My life had been uprooted and changed in the space of a month, which leads me onto Anxiety.
I first started experiencing Anxiety not long after mum passed away and I was at this new job. It was a good job. I believe I'd still be doing it if I had been in the right mindset at the time. I wasn't.
I believe my not giving myself the time to adjust to my new surroundings, new living arrangements and new job etc…all of that caused my anxiety to manifest.
Now I understand my anxiety a lot more, I've come to just live with it, accept that it's not going anywhere. Once I was able to do that, I was able to grieve for mum and dad.
In the last blog I mentioned an actor Andrew Garfield who'd recently lost his mum, and he said that grief is "unexpressed love" – which is the perfect way of explaining it. It's just a shame that grief can also sometimes have a knock-on effect.
The next chapter
July joy: Ada, Amanda, Ryan and Oliver in 2021
MARK: We talked about the incredibly sad coincidence of Glyn and Kim both dying on the same date in July. But it’s funny how fate works. Your sister, Amanda, and her husband Ryan now have two beautiful children – both born in July. So, while we grieve for Glyn and Kim we get to see the smiles on the faces of their grandchildren.
RHYS: Amanda and Ryan have supported me in ways I couldn't possibly describe. They've 100% been there for not just me and the rest of my family. Their children Oliver and Ada are an absolute delight to be around, we love them very much and while we still grieve for the ones we lost, we can put all of that lost love into giving them all of the love and attention we can.
MARK: Just save a little for yourself too.
This week’s ARM (Anxiety Role Model)
RHYS: An unusual choice, but this week I'm picking Lady Gaga.
Most notably known for her music career, but she has gone into acting in recent years. My favourite piece of hers is the remake of A Star Is Born where she plays a girl who meets a musician who urges her to pursue her dreams as a singer. They get married while he tackles drug and alcohol abuse. He dies, and his wife has to deal with the aftermath.
Lady Gaga herself suffers from PTSD. PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) is a condition that someone may experience after a traumatic event. After that trauma that person may experience flashbacks, nightmares, or other mental disabilities. This can be caused by global catastrophies, sexual abuse, the death of a loved one.
What's great about this woman is she is very open about it, the medication she needs to take. It's a big thing for someone like me or anyone I know to be so open about it, let alone a multimillionaire who will probably be scrutinised for it.