Grief sucks today, A LOT, like 10,000 skyscrapers tall.
I had utterly no idea grief on losing your husband was this all encompassing, never-ends-pervades, like even on the fucking toilet when you take a shit, when you all alone, in a hospital, sick as a dog and in the same place as you spent by HIS side as the patient for decades.
So no, I DO NOT want to hear about the death of your 92 year great-grandma, your cousin bob twice removed, or for fucks sake especially your goddamned dog. If you’ve lost your child or if you've lost your spouse/partner, you get me!! You? I DO wanna talk to you.
Today for me is so painful that my BONES feel like they ARE going break in half from sheer emotion stuck inside me with nowhere to go but to press inward and snap me in fucking half. I have been wearing BATH towels around my neck today to to cry into. I go through BATH TOWELS like Kleenex. I have gone through 6 today. So far. And i’s only 5 pm.
MY grief sucks.
A word to the wise: if anyone and I mean anyone criticizes me for what I just said here, basically my grief hierarchy, saying “but but but” or “grief isn’t a competition” or “you need to be more open to other scenarios” OH HELP ME GOD I will somehow appear out of the internet and find you and beat you to a pulp. I don't care what you think. MY FUCKING GRIEF WINS THE INTERNET TODAY. It just fucking DOES!!!! (insert copious body wracking tears that I cannot begin to describe here)
Since I can't appear out of the internet, if you write something like "grief isn't a competition" (yes, it is actually), what I will actually do is delete your unwanted commentary on my pain and I will never ever forget how fucking clueless you are to MY pain. My pain TODAY. Sometimes i get to be self centered in MY SPECIAL PAIN. I pick TODAY. So if you gotta anything else to say about this other than support for me struggling beyond what even I, writer who can paint miles of walls with words, can say, well then fucking suck it.
Also the first person who says ANY remote variation of well it’s good to see you moving to the next stage in grieving to anger is going to get similarly freaking murdered.