Grief is all consuming. It rots you from the inside out, shedding pound by pound from your body until you a shell of the person you used to be. It rips your hair out in clumps that fall down your shower drain as you let the scorching hot water burn your backside. It tears you apart piece by piece until the reflection you see in the mirror shows no resemblance to who you once were.
There is no worse feeling in the world than comforting an eleven-year-old girl who just lost her brother.
There is no better feeling in the world than making an eleven-year-old girl who just lost her brother smile again.
It is very easy to get stuck in the grief. It’s easy to look through every photo, every video, every text message. It’s easy to think of every what-if, every could have been. It’s easy to become cynical; to believe that the world is cruel and hard and hopeless; to let your body sink and decompose in bed while screaming because the world is moving on without you.
It is very hard to move through the grief, but with time it becomes easier.
There are some wounds that time will never heal. As the months pass, it may slowly be stitched up, glued, stapled, but grief will always rip it open again. A piece of me will always be bleeding.
No one knows what they are talking about, not even you. Don’t let someone try to control your grief.
Death brings out the worst in people. People I just met will ask me to share the intimate details of death like my trauma is some reality show for them to consume. Strangers will call his death selfish without ever having had a conversation with him. Professors will expect you to be in class before his ashes are even returned to you because chemistry is more important than healing. People will feel as though they should have access to your pain, your trauma, your hurt, so that they can have a story to tell their friends later on. People will disguise their morbid curiosity as empathy.
Death brings out the best in people. There will be people who drag you out of bed and brush your matted hair when you can barely find the energy to be awake. People you’ve never met will send you money so that you can get your favorite coffee that day. Friends you’ve only known for a week will stay up with you as you drunkenly talk about your grief and beg for something to take it away. Your roommate will bring you desserts and leave sticky notes for you to find with them. There will be people who invite you into their home like you’ve always belonged there. These people are the light in the world.
If you want to survive, you have to hold on to the light.