Love, (A Series)

7.16.15 // Love, A Grieving Girl

Loss is something you can never really prepare yourself for. You think you can. You see the red flags. The stop lights. The railroad signs falling down in front of you. But when it's all said and done, you still find yourself getting hit with the train wreck. No matter how much you think you're ready for it, when it actually happens, it's nothing you could ever expect. And it just crashes all around you and you're trying to somehow find the means to move on, but the road seems so long and you're neck deep in overwhelming emotions.

I loss someone close to me recently. Someone I loved. Someone that meant a lot to me. I knew it was coming, yet it didn't register in my mind how little time I had and how soon he was taken away from me. I knew exactly where I was and what I was doing when I got the news. I had just finished a dentist appointment and I was complaining about how hungry I was. My mom said she would take me to get french toast after she finished work. While she packed up to leave, I was pretending to ice skate on her newly waxed floor while blaring Taylor Swift through my phone's speakers. There was laughter and smiles and happiness. There wasn't a hint of sadness. But I guess we were all just one phone call from our knees; we just didn't know it yet.

It didn't process to me at first what was happening. I could only hear my mom's side of the conversation. But I found out that I didn't need to know what was being said on the other line. From the look on her face, I knew what it was about. And then I collapsed on the floor. I don't know how long I stayed there crying. I just cried and cried. My mom went to tell her boss that she had to leave immediately. She didn't come back for a good twenty minutes so I gathered myself up to go look for her. I found her crying in the arms of her boss's arms. We left to meet up with my dad. We visited my grandparents. We broke the news. We sobbed and held each other for two hours. We went home. I locked myself in my room and cried until I ran out of tears.

I isolated myself pretty quickly. Didn't talk to anyone, pushed them all away. I let myself fall into a lonely place because I thought that was for the best, that was what I needed. I thought I had to grieve alone because no one was going to understand or I was going to be a sad bother. As from the previous post, I'm not the best at opening up. But then people started to realize I wasn't myself and they asked me what was wrong and if I was okay. They reached out not because they had to, but because they cared. And it was such a new concept to me. The fact that I had people telling me that they wanted to be there for me was so nice. And I realized I didn't have to go through this alone. That leaning on others doesn't make me troublesome or weak. It makes me somewhat strong to confide in others when I needed it. I'm so thankful to those who helped me in my darkest moments. Who showed me that days will get better. That I was going to get better.

Grieving is different for everyone. I learned that over the course of the following weeks. I saw anger and frustration and devastation and bitterness. I heard screams and sobs and the sounds of broken hearts. I felt pain and sadness and hurt. Even though my family was going through the same thing, our reactions couldn't be more contrast. People handle loss differently and at different paces. All we could do is be there for one another.

I miss him everyday. It's been a while, but the loss is still a very fresh wound. I find myself crying myself to sleep sometimes. I find myself dreaming of him. I find myself still trying to pick up the broken pieces he has left. But I'm doing okay now.

If you're going through the same thing, know I'm here for you. I know how you feel. If you need to talk, you can always message me. I'll try my best. Know that it will get better. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but it will soon. Don't base how you are feeling against how other people are reacting. Everyone grieves differently and at different rates. Do not be ashamed that it's going to take longer than other people. And don't be afraid to tell someone. You are not a burden. Or a bother. Or an annoyance. You are a human going through a really tough time. Please reach out if you have to. You do not have to go though this alone.

Love,

A grieving girl.