Getting hold of myself the last few months has been difficult. Grieving has been projected to be this wild, emotional, tear-jerking experience but it is so much less hollywood than that. Grieving has been a slow, stagnant process. I honestly don’t even feel as though I’ve stuck my foot in the door to grief yet which is ironically the “first step” to bereavement. It’s been a flip-flop of denial, anger, and sadness but mostly silence.
Read moreIt's My Birthday and I'll Cry If I Want To
Oh, Timehop, never letting a past moment slip by us in this digital age. I checked it when I woke up this morning to find a video from my last birthday of my family singing to me– my Dad’s voice overpowering everybody’s. I cried and all I could think was, he should be here right now.
Read moreShock, Denial, and Disbelief
I guess there are seven stages of grief. It appears as though I’m lurking around stage one– disbelief, shock, denial.
Seems accurate.
I’m slowly trickling through disbelief– I can feel it. I can feel my body resisting it. I can feel my body shuddering through fear– my abdomen is stiff, my hands are shaky, my eyes are swelling. I am physically aching for some balance between this hollowness and heaviness.
Read moreI miss you.
Dad, it’s been eight days since you’ve spread your wings and flown above the earth. These eight days have felt like a blur— I feel like I’m waiting for you to come home, for you to walk through the door any minute now from a long vacation… It feels like I’m just waiting. Except one day I’m going to realize you won’t be coming home soon, and it’s going to be a very devastating moment.
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