Sometimes the worst does happen.
“Memories saturate my heart and the story of you spills from my eyes.”
-Grace Andren
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Disclaimer: There Is Honesty Ahead
For those about to read, please be aware that this is my journal. So there will be varying emotions and descriptions of grief and death. Fair warning: some of it might be more than others can, or even want to try to, handle.
I describe death. I write in rage. I use sarcasm. There will be swearing. I do not use bible verses. I am not writing for an audience. I am not looking for help “feeling better.”
The earlier posts are the hardest. That was when I lived in disbelief and alternating agony and guilt. I could see no way through this storm. I could find no way past my pain. I couldn’t find a fix for my grief.
Then I slowly began to understand that there is no fixing me because I am not broken. My grief has become part of me, and it was a lot of work accommodating it, for it to become something I could live with instead of the thing that was killing me.
There’s no way to do this quickly. There’s no way to do it without pain. There is the possibility of eventually finding meaning again, and you will be bringing your grief along.