I am reminded and counselled and nudged to remember that Willie would want me to be happy. That he would want me to move forward and have a happy rest of my life. I know that’s true, I know that I need to do that and I want to. I don’t want to be where I am… hurting and missing him and reeling every other day it seems like. I feel like I’m letting him down and letting myself down when I hit another spell of not being able to get out of the bed to do what I’m supposed to do. When I sit and cry and can’t stop.
I hear from well-meaning friends and from therapists that I am the only one who can choose to make the decision to let go and move forward and let myself be happy. I know this to be true. The frustration that I have in me when I am struck by another day like today … a day where I can’t move because of the grief and the tears and the pain… the frustration is enraging. I don’t know anymore how to grieve and feel the loss without feeling like I shouldn’t be feeling this.
If I push the feelings away and don’t feel them then I’m not processing things and just perpetuating the issues of not facing it… and I’ve been told I need to stop pushing it all away in order to be able to move forward…but when I feel what comes and am struck with this pain, I feel like I’m failing at choosing to be happy and that people will be just more and more pissed off that I’m not moving on and letting go. Am I stuck like this forever?
There comes a point where it becomes me that is keeping me from moving forward, that’s what I’ve been told… and I guess it’s true….so how the hell do I grieve?
Fuck, I hate this. Yes, that’s crude and vulgar – so is grief.