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It's been almost two years... November 29th....a week after your birthday and week before mine, just like our children's birthdays....
I lost you...
They lost you...
Nothing will ever be the same.
It's getting to be about that time when everyone is sick of my sad depression shit and insists I move on and "get better".... They arent entirely wrong. Wallowing in the void that you left isn't exactly productive.... ..but I just... can't.
Our family was devastated when you left us... we eternally will go over every possible scenario as to why... there will never be answers.
Everyone in our family has progressed or improved over time.
Not me though.... I've been on a steady decline since the day I saw your face with no color....I will never forget... it will never go away.
I am stuck here.
I can't get free from this constant feeling of not being good enough...of being such a toxic friend that my presence makes them abandon ship.
... you told me you couldn't live in a world without me in it... you said that... and I said the same thing when they came into the bad news room in the hospital and told us you were gone...I hit the floor... my world was fucking over... our world was gone...
For a while I was hyper focused and determined to love life. Determined to keep your two beautiful children together and within hugging distance...I did good good for a minute.
It didn't last and the after effects kept getting worse and worse... I started relapsing back into sadness and suicidal thoughts.... it won't stop.
I'm not sure how to fix me without you...I .dont think I can.
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This is so incredibly heart breaking. My heart is breaking for you. I can't begin to imagine what you're going through. You need to take all the time you need. You need time to fully feel your feelings without resisting them, as you probably know that resisting them, makes them hang on. People can't insist on your getting better when you're not ready. You're in my prayers and I wish the best for you. With Love!
ReplyYou move on when you are ready. You need to make that choice. When someone tells you how you should grieve, when to move on, you say, "My choice."
Reply