This is the lesson in life that I hate- the class I would rather die, yes die- then take…loss…My brother died a year ago and I still can’t believe it. I miss him so much.
I am lying in my bed trying to get some peace after the end of a long week and my neighbors are blasting Weezer- “my name is Jonas”. I wanted to yell at them but decided to drown in pills to numb my own thoughts. How are they to know I immediately remember jammin to that whole album with him- and the way he would do the air guitar and the expression on his face? My heart twists and claws to get out- to not hurt. My brother struggled with depression too and I’m mad he’s not here to talk with anymore. He understood me. He just got it. I feel like I am drifting in a sea of tears that have become a frozen pond- and I am frostbitten- but I can’t die-I’m just stuck. I miss his craziness, I miss how much he loved me- he loved hard- he didn’t care about what others thought-it was an honor to be loved by him. He never made me feel bad for who I was- it didn’t matter what I was into or what stage I was emersed in- he loved me incredibly much.
How do I grieve? I saw a grief counselor for a while and it was good but then it wasn’t. The “tools”do not always work. Write about it- work out- scream, she said. Ok- now what? Guess what, I am still angry and devastated! My daughter died seven years ago and no tool has helped me feel better. I guess it is learning how to live incomplete and to trust a world that has proven unfaithful.
Sometimes I feel like an infant- crying in my crib, just waiting for arms of comfort to scoop me up and rock me to sleep.
Thus far on my journey I have learned: there is this hole that burns and weeps- there is a constant fire that spreads and stings- it happens when you lose a loved one-its name is grief.
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screaming from my deathbed 