Page 35 of Common People

‘I just loved her so much, and every day without her feels so much worse than all the days before,’ said Adrian, looking up again. ‘I want to move on, for me and the boys, but it’s so fucking hard.’

‘It’s a journey,’ said Joy with a thin, supportive smile. ‘And yours, like every journey, will take its own path, Adrian. Please don’t ever apologise for it. Embrace your pace.’

Max couldn’t bear it. He watched Adrian as he broke down in front of the group, talking about his pain and suffering, at the loss of his wife. On top of Joyce losing her daughter, it was too much pain in one place. Max looked around the group of people. All of them were just like him, or like Adrian or Joyce. They appeared so normal, and yet they were drowning in grief, tryingto stay afloat, desperate to find some sort of happiness again. Max couldn’t stand to be around a room of people like that, and so he suddenly stood up.

‘Sorry, I, err, can’t do this,’ mumbled Max, before he turned around and walked out, not looking back.

Max couldn’t understand how sharing so much heartache could possibly help alleviate it. How could talking about wedding anniversaries and people being hit by drunk drivers help him get over the grief of losing his parents? He walked quickly out of that church hall, and towards the nearest pub. He knew he shouldn’t, that it wouldn’t help, but it was just one drink. He needed a drink to get over the feelings of loss that had come again and again as he listened to Joyce and then Adrian. Hearing their stories didn’t detract from his loss, they only amplified it.

Max sat at the bar and ordered a pint of lager, and then to get the hit of alcohol he needed, he ordered a shot of whisky. He downed the whisky and then took a long pull of the beer. It felt so much better than being in that room with all those people and their horrible sadness.

‘Another whisky,’ said Max to the barman before he had finished his beer, and he knew he would get another, and then another. He was disappointed with himself, sad about his parents, and he didn’t want to go home and see the look on Robbie’s face when he realised that Max hadn’t been to the grief and bereavement support group, and instead had gone to the pub. One thing Max had gained from the group was Joy’s words on grief.It was a journey and every journey will take its own path.Embrace your pace. At that moment, Max wasn’t ready for a therapy session, and all he wanted to do was drink himself into oblivion. That was the journey he was on at that moment. Maybe in a few months or a year, he would be on a different one, moving at a different pace.

As he downed the next shot of whiskey, he felt it working. It lubricated his mind, and for a few brief drinks before it turned the other way, everything was all right with the world. It was the plateau of alcohol. It took him somewhere nice, where nothing bad happened, and he was euphoric, joyous almost, before the inevitable sink into the darkness of where it took him next. Alcohol was like a magic trick, using misdirection and sleight-of-hand to make you think one thing, believe in a certain reality, while actually it was doing something far more sinister somewhere else.

The thing on the ground

Max had finally decided it was time to tell everyone in the group about his parents. It wasn’t that he had been hiding it from them on purpose, but the moment had never quite felt right. There had been days when it was on the tip of his tongue, but then someone else would speak, ask a question, and the moment passed. Bethan knew, like he knew about her secret, but it was time he told the group. In the short time he had been a part of Common People, they had become like family, and he felt like he owed them the truth.

After the usual warm-up, and chatting in small groups about their days, they all got together for the pre-run circle. It was a chance for everyone to speak, to share news or talk about what was on their minds. Max was usually quiet during circle time, commenting on other people's news, but today was going to be his moment.

‘I’d like to start today, if that’s OK,’ said Max when everyone was settled.

‘Yeah, no worries, Max,’ said Hope with a smile. ‘Go ahead.’

Everyone looked towards Max, and he felt the weight of their eyes on him. It was still hard saying the words out loud, even to be people he felt close with. He knew they would be nothing but supportive, but telling people about his parents dying was never easy.

‘So,’ Max began, and he looked across the circle at Bethan, and she gave him an encouraging smile. ‘When I joined Common People, I told you that I was just doing it to get in shape, which was partially true, but the real, and the mainreason I joined, was because I was in a bad place in my life. At the beginning of last year, my parents were killed in a car crash, and it turned my world upside down.’

‘Oh, Max, I’m so sorry,’ said Hope immediately.

‘That’s awful,’ said Joe. ‘Sorry, mate.’

‘It’s OK. I mean, it’s not OK, but I’m slowly coming to terms with losing them. The thing is, I was an only child and they were my whole world, so after it happened, I went into quite a dark place. I was so angry, and the only thing that seemed to help was alcohol, until it didn’t.’

‘It never bloody does,’ chipped in Charlie.

‘Right, and so that morning when I saw the flyer at the coffee shop, I just knew it was something I had to do. I was overweight, tired, and I hated myself. I hated my life, if I’m being honest, but when I started running with all of you, I finally began seeing some light at the end of the tunnel. This group has given me so much more than I could have hoped for.’

‘That’s awesome,’ said Hope.

‘Good for you, Max,’ chimed in Anita.

‘I can’t believe you went through all that on your own,’ said Eve.

‘I had Robbie. He was, and still is, the best support I could have had. I had a girlfriend when it happened, but I pushed her away until she finally broke-up with me. But it wasn’t until I came here that I truly found what I needed. People like me, and the running itself, which is also why I have decided to do the Clapham Half.’

‘Yes, mate!’ said Charlie. ‘From Chunder Boy to running man! Top-notch bounce back!’

‘Thanks, Charlie,’ replied Max.

‘Can I just say,’ said Hope with a touch more refrain. ‘How proud I am of you for sharing that with us today, and for committing to the Clapham Half. This is what the run club is allabout and why I set it up in the first place. It’s about community, about coming together and using running as a way to overcome the obstacles in our lives, but the most important thing, for me at least, is the support we give each other. Thanks Max, and I’m so sorry for what happened to you, and I’m sure everyone here will offer their support too. On a brighter note, I’m super excited for you to run the Clapham Half with us!’

‘I’m terrified,’ Max replied to laughter from the group.

Everyone got up, and they each in turn gave Max a hug, offered words of encouragement and support. Charlie patted Max on the back so hard, he almost fell over, but he knew it was Charlie’s way of being a mate.

‘I don’t know exactly what you’re going through,’ said Joe. ‘But I know what losing my old man felt like, and how hard it was for me. If you need anything at all, mate, you know where I am, yeah?’