A sort of journal for my struggles with loss, depression and life itself. I want to help and encourage others who feel those awful feelings and offer advice as well.
I cried again today. Along with my own depression, grieving hasn't been easy. Not that it should be. If you haven't suffered a loss, nothing I say can help you imagine the despair. Surround yourself with people who not only understand, but are willing to help you through. For me, that's my boyfriend of nearly six years.
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Don't let someone tell you that your grieving, your sadness and pain, isn't valid. Supposedly, everyone should go through the 5 stages of grief. I feel like I've been cycling through the first 4 for months. I can't accept it yet. I know he's gone, but it doesn't feel any more real than that day.
The hardest part I think for me has been trying to accept it wasn't my fault. It's not my fault, no matter how much I want to blame someone. I won't blame my cousin for taking his life, I wont blame my aunt for being the wonderful mother she is, and I won't blame his sister for going away to college. I want to blame myself for not texting him more often, for not stopping by more. But it's NOT my fault. It's hard to keep that in my mind.
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My cousin's favorite animal was a rhino. His favorite color was red. We were a year and a half apart in age, and to me, he was a brother. My aunt put together these little gifts for his siblings and cousins, and every night before bed I hug him. I remember Bobby's big bear hugs.
It's NEVER easy to lose someone, don't let someone tell you otherwise or belittle you for feeling what you feel.
If I had known Bobby's depression was that bad, I would've been at his house every day to help him through. But I didn't know. No one knew how bad it was. Bobby was one of the happiest people I knew. He didn't show his sadness.
If you're depressed and you need help, please talk to someone. You may think nobody's on your side, you may feel so worthless that it doesn't make sense to go on. I promise that's not true. Please choose life over some idea that things would be better if you were gone. That's not true.
Death is the end. It's not romantic. It's not rebellion. It's dark, cold, final.
