On grief

Grief is a type of madness.

Your mind is no longer yours and the singular focus becomes the very event that got you where you are today.

Grief is an avalanche of emotion that cannot be contained. In one moment you may seem fine but then something triggers you and suddenly you’re ugly crying outside of a Walgreens.

Grief turns your world upside down.

The foundation is broken and there is nowhere safe to stand. You’re hopping and skipping and jumping, trying to create a new path.

Grief plays tricks with your body. Your rhythms are just off.

Eating becomes a chore that you only remember to do when you’re feeling weak and tired and you realize it’s 4pm and you haven’t eaten yet.

Sleeping is tough. You stay awake, unplugged and untethered to the day and your mind starts to think about it…again. It’s a lonely time. When you do finally sleep, it’s marked by tosses and turns and punctuated by vivid dreams fueled by anxiety.

Grief, in its all-consuming nature feels permanent. But it’s a process. There is no fast forward button.

You have to move through it to get to the other side.

And I can’t wait to meet the person I will become, waiting for me on the other side.

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