My grandmother’s death messed me up, but I enjoy it. Wait… What? I believe life is about continual progression and growth. No matter what happens, it’s growth. So yes, I enjoy the person I’m becoming which includes whatever the hell is wrong with me. In previous blogs I’ve touched on my experiences with death. Of course, my experiences haven’t changed, but I wasn’t being completely honest, I didn’t admit to the metamorphosis death brought about. I’m not who I used to be. I see things. I feel things. I hear things. I grew up in the church so these things have been normalized for me and aren’t completely new. Death, however, has morphed these things into something they weren’t before.

I’ve always seen things, but now I see a thing. I’ve always heard things, but now I hear a thing. I’ve always felt things, but now I feel a thing. The foundation of the singularity is my grandmother. Whoa! Whoa! WHOA! ! Relax, don’t jump to conclusions. What’s crazier than to say you’ve seen a ghost? I also see that reasoning behind deducing what I’ve said to that point. Hear me out though. I don’t think my grandmother haunts me. I’m not sure what to call it, but I know it’s not that. I’m not crazy. Like I’ve mentioned before, I was there when my grandfather passed so you would think that it wouldn’t shake me the way it is. However, I doubt my mind was as developed and possessed the processing power that it does today. Although I miss him dearly I was never able to make the connection between death and the emotional void it leaves. My grandmother’s death brought about the ability to make said connection, it shook me.

Not a day goes by where I don’t see, hear or feel my grandmother. Early on it started to bother me. Her presence never bothered me, but it was the fact it was a constant event. I thought something was wrong. It began to affect my day to day and I had trouble sleeping most nights. When I realized it wasn’t going to stop I brought it to my wife’s attention and told her I had 2 options to deal with it. It was either weed or alcohol. We jointly decided on the option we believed to be the safest which in turn brings me to my conclusion. I believe that I deal with my grandmother’s death the same way a brave veteran deal with his or her experiences on the battlefield. They are always there. Before I was able to find a way to relax my mind and process these events I saw them as torment in a sense. Not being tormented with fear, but just by them being a constant at any point throughout the day. Now my thinking has changed. I now think since I was able to make the connection between death and the emotional void that it traumatized me. This is my first experience and I know there will be more, unfortunately. I’m wondering that whenever that next experience happens if it will snap me out of what I’m dealing with now. Normalize it, in a sense. Until then, I think I have PTSD.

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is a real thing. I am in no way comparing my situation to the struggles of others. If you need help PLEASE go to get help.