Member-only story
Not broken after all
I’d like to talk to you about bereavement and loss. If that’s the kind of thing you might find triggering or uncomfortable in any way, please feel free to stop reading. Grief is a difficult subject. I promise I won’t be offended.
When my best friend was killed in a motorcycle accident, it broke me. I tried grief counselling, but it wasn’t for me. That being said, if you have lost someone, I do recommend that you seek counselling. I am just a bad example. I am sure that most right-minded people would benefit from speaking to a professional.
Anyway, having failed to process my grief on my own, I found myself slipping into a deep and dark bout of depression that lasted more than a year. It finally came to an end after six months on anti-depressants. To this day, I am not sure if the medication actually helped or whether I just found my way out of that long, dark tunnel on my own.
But that grief, that sense of loss, was physically, emotionally and mentally painful.
I don’t feel like I have been properly happy since the day he died.
A decade on and I am still changed. I smile, and I laugh. But I don’t feel like I have been properly happy since the day he died. A snippet of a song, a fleeting memory. Pretty much anything can bring it all flooding back. The burning feeling behind my eyes; the lump in my throat.
