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Grieving the Loss of the Living

Hello Dear Readers,
I admit I’ve not been in the greatest of headspaces the last month. Optimistically, I haven’t had any intrusive thoughts since I left the hospital. I’ve been grieving the loss of a relationship, though, and it has not been an easy ending. At least on my part. He’s fine, or so it seems. For me, however, I took the separation pretty hard. Over the course of the last few weeks, I’ve cycled through the stages of grief (along with different coping mechanisms) like a pinball. Grief is not linear at all for me. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance, hit me at different times. Each one has been a thorough introduction. I’ve not had a single drive home where I haven’t cried- until last night, but it hit me on the drive-in to work. I’m trying to work out why it hurts so much, and why I fell so hard in the first place. I was in a good place, and I was ready for a relationship. I wanted something real, stable, and dependable. We were only together for 7 weeks. It would have been longer if he didn’t change his mind.

I truly did fall in love with him. I allowed myself to open up and let him in. It was a conscious choice. I remember every moment like a picture or home movie. I think that is the biggest part I’m struggling with, remembering all the good times and the feelings associated. The swell in my chest when I looked at him still comes when I remember his face, the way he’d smile and raise his eyebrow. I remember watching him get both big tattoos, and the way his arms wrapped around me on (what would be) the last night we saw each other. I don’t know how to forget or turn it off. I can for a moment at work, or out for short amounts of time, but the memories haunt my dreams and the in-between times (just waking up, or just before falling asleep).

I don’t think it’s fair, how he can just move on like that. It is what it is, and I even though I want him to come back… I don’t know if I could. I hold on to these small moments, but I can’t forget the fact he left. Then, the aftermath. The harsh words, and gaslighting. My sister-in-law says I should forget him and move on. That I deserve so much better, and I do. With how much I loved him, though, I’ve already forgiven. I just can’t forget any of it. I’m stuck in this limbo of my brain and my heart. I think I’m finally ready, though. I’ve made myself a promise. On Friday, I will go to the bar (I know alcohol is not a good coping tool) and I will have 1 drink for every week we were together (7 isn’t an unusual number as of late), and I will allow myself to mope. Until I drink enough to forget, from then on, I will force sober me to forget every day after. This is the last week of grief.

Even though I’m the one hurting, he still lost. He walked away from something so pure, genuine, and real. I needed to change my perspective on life, and I did. I am 5 weeks and 2 days without any suicidal thoughts or urges. Even through the loss of him, and how badly it hurt, I’m at least happy to be alive.

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