The thing about grief is people will ask you if you’re okay at first and then they get back to their lives and you’re alone again. You have to try to find ways to move forward with your new reality, but your new reality has you searching into a deep dark void of nothing…scrambling, trying to get back to who you used to be, only to find that the person you once were is no longer there.
Past you died without warning and you had no time to prepare. Part of grief is realizing that the version of you that you knew is gone forever. You can’t forget what’s happened and you can’t go back to life before it. It hits you like a thousand pounds over and over again, suffocating you till your heart pounds out of your chest and your breath becomes shallow. Part of grief is realizing that no matter how hard you try, you’ll never be able to explain what it felt like to live through month after month of debilitating pain and agony and loss and heartache and suffering and depression.
So you isolate and crumble alone until the imprint of grief becomes just a little bit lighter, and somewhere along the way, you realize that life is still beautiful. So you start holding griefs hand in your new reality, because that’s the only way you can move forward.
The thing about grief is you never really stop carrying it with you and suddenly you’re changed, forever.
