a sort of messed up thing to say, but hey. that’s grief.

I haven’t had a single suicidal or intrusive thought since Papaw passed away. it has taken me nearly three months to register that he’s gone & start grieving.

grief hit Friday night when I got home from work & I have been crying to the point my heart feels like it’s shattering every couples hours since. the bathroom walls of amazon have become acquainted with my silent sobs.

I still haven’t had any suicidal or intrusive thoughts, in fact, I have realized that those were easier to carry than grief. I thought fifteen years of quiet, yet scary thoughts were the worst my brain could do. Now I know when I heal from this, I may never experience my chemically imbalanced brain the same way again.

I hate to say I think my suicidal thoughts comforted me a little. They were familiar. I knew they weren’t real and they could never hurt me. I could never listen. I kind of wish my mind would think intrusively, in a sort of messed up way. Maybe then my grief will pause enough for me to breathe.

Now I just have to feel, because unlike the way my brain speaks to me, death is real. I cant look passed it like I do my scary thoughts. it’s always there.