Grief. My grief. Yes, MY grief. No one can truly understand it, for it is mine.

How dare anyone ever tell you what to do with your grief, how to work through your grief. It is your grief to break down and sort through.

My grief has changed me. I’ve become a new…a new being. Not another soul, no matter the situation, will understand my feelings, my loss, my pains, my agony. No one has the right to tell me how I should “deal” with my grief. Fuck that.

As I was standing there, my world was eradicated. How can my feelings be unjust? This grief is a tsunami and even after the storm there is carnage and wreckage that needs to be unloaded.

I am where I am. I’m in a scary, dark dwelling. I don’t wake up and say, “Hey, today you are going to cry more than anything else. You are going to feel alone and scared. You are going to have panic attacks and wish everything would disappear.” It just happens. I’m IN my life every single day. I have no choice but to be in this irrefutable life.

How can anyone think this is something I want, like it’s a choice. How can someone judge another for the grief they feel? For the sorrow and loneliness they feel? My mind is scattered and I try to find my way each day. It’s a lousy and at times a shameful feeling.

Do you honestly believe this is what I want to feel? Do you believe I want this immense, relentless pressure on my entire body?

I will forever hold a great deal of pain. There is no going back to having anything I once had. I can’t get what I want back. It is lost forever and now I’m different.

I am where I am. I’m doing what I can. I’m getting out of bed and sometimes stumbling through my day. That’s where I am. Do not judge a grieving soul, for we can only do what we can at this moment in time.

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