I am heavy. Heavy heart, heavy mind. Wallowing, probably. Fighting, definitely. I thought surely the sadness, the bleakness that I felt after Jason died was unbearable... that it was the worst I could possibly feel.
Little did I know that despondency, utter & raw grief, does not relent. It lays in wait, threatening to envelop me at every turn. For every step I take toward acceptance I am pushed back into this numb, apathetic - actually, pathetic - state of despair.
It is maudlin, coarse. It is making me rough. It does not stop. There is no relief in the bottle or the pill, it sucks the joy from me every single day. I cannot lose myself in anything anymore.
I wonder if it will kill me. It feels as though it must. Surely this much pain cannot be borne without consequence.
Breathe. Open your eyes. Count out your hollow blessings. Someday it won't ache so much. Someday you will be free. Someday you won't want to disappear anymore. Someday you will live again.
Keep pretending. Keep imitating life. Keep your small hopes burning. Keep feeling the hurt.
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