please don’t tell me how to grieve.
stop saying that I overshare. stop telling me that I’m humiliating myself by talking about all of the good memories. and please stop telling me I need to be angry and move on.
stop telling me things that make the tiniest pieces of my heart that haven’t yet exploded — explode.
this is my life.
this is my process.
it’s an up and down emotional rollercoaster that I don’t wish upon anyone. I am doing OK one minute and then sobbing the next, without warning. my life and my memories and my tender heart are all on display for everyone to see, and that’s how I cope. I share stories. I try to help. I try to mend. I try to make shit happen. and guess what? it’s not working. none of it. and I know this and I still can’t stop. know why? because I’m fucking grieving, that’s why.
it will help. eventually. give it some time, they say.
it’s as if there was a death, and yet there is still a warm body walking around somewhere out there and I don’t get to be a part of that life anymore. it went from everything to nothing just like that. whether the signs were there doesn’t matter. the end was abrupt to me. my reality is that it was without warning, just like many deaths. sure, there were signs of illness before the death. but no one ever thinks those little quirks and illnesses will truly kill. some of those illnesses are mine and I was unable to cure them in time. maybe I was in denial. who knows. but I need to figure this shit out.
I also need to look at and share old photos of memories that make my heart swoon. I need to put love out there in this world because that is what I do. I love hard and with everything I have. so when it’s yanked out from under me, I grieve. if you don’t like it, look away. while I may not agree with something, I realize we are all different and we handle our shit differently. I get it. doesn’t make it easier. but it also doesn’t mean I hate anyone or am out to be a malicious asshole. if anything, I’m showing the world that you can still love and hope and wish and remember in a sweet light. you can still send positive messages and thoughts out there, even in your darkest hours. it doesn’t have to be harsh and ugly, even when it might be. you can fall apart with sweetness in your heart. you just can. the only regret I have is that the broken parts weren’t mended. we all have a similar story. mine isn’t any more special than yours.
I’m not OK with this. I want to fix it. I want love to win. but sometimes we can’t fix things. so we grieve.
and this is how I grieve. I share. I talk. I go to therapy. I do yoga. I float. I over-explain. I push. I reach out excessively. I beg. I sob. I fall apart. I get back up and seem to be fine until the process starts again.
i’m doing what I can.
so please don’t tell me how to grieve.