Safe Travels

Five Stages of Grief

Nothing eventful happened for the next three days. No updates on Thomas's condition. No horrible accidents to add on to the misery. Nothing. Silence. Like the world just stopped spinning. At the time I hated it. It caused my anxiety to skyrocket. I wanted to keep moving.

Looking back, I wish things could've stayed that way.

On the fourth day after the accident, my little trip in limbo ended with a bang. Or, it would've, if Alaine hadn't have been there to take the gun away from me.

Why was I holding a gun?

Because my life was ending, all that was left was to kill my physical body. My shell.

On the fourth day, I got a call early in the morning. I had a bad feeling about it, and I knew from the tone of voice of the doctor that my feeling was correct.

Thomas didn't make it.

I'll spare the details of my breakdown, because it got really violent. I'll just say this; both Alaine and I had bruises by the end of the night.

And then there was the gun.

I can't tell you how I found it, because I really don't remember. All I remember is the feeling of the cold metal against my temple, the shaking of my hands, the sweat rolling down my forehead.

I was really going to do it.

Alaine grabbed the gun and yanked it out of my hand. She started crying and yelling, cursing at me for even considering suicide.

Needless to say, the only reason she slept with me that night was to make sure I didn't try it again.

We went back to Thomas's apartment, because really we had nowhere else to go. By 'we went', really I mean Alaine went and dragged me with her. I wasn't even a living entity at that point. I was a husk. A robot. I don't know why she even bothered helping me. I was truly hopeless.

It took four months. Four long, agonizing months. Four months of pain, of screaming, of crying. Four months of slamming doors, arguing, rage.

It took four months to be able to step outside.

For me, it was huge progress. To be willing to step out of the apartment building while Alaine was at work and actually breath was incredible. She was so proud when she came home and I told her, I think I actually smiled at her happiness.

Progress from then on was pretty stellar. Let's just say, sex is a good way to positively reinforce favorable behavior.

Getting better and being able to go outside didn't stop me from experiencing the five stages of grief over and over again. 

I don't think there was ever a day when I didn't think of Thomas. His kind smile, his understanding silence, his warmth. He was family, and that's not something you forget easily.

My biggest improvement was shedding my suicidal tendencies. Because I realized that even if Thomas wasn't alive, he'd still want me to stay strong.

So that's what I did.