Survivor’s Guilt
I’ve heard of it before, this phenomenon where the ones who survive the unthinkable wrestle with immense guilt for the very act of surviving, to a point where they find it difficult to celebrate being alive.
Topic: grief
I’ve heard of it before, this phenomenon where the ones who survive the unthinkable wrestle with immense guilt for the very act of surviving, to a point where they find it difficult to celebrate being alive.
This trauma will be long-lasting. Our mental health will forever be colored by the impact of this pandemic.
Right now, as the circumstances of life feel uncertain, as the metaphorical darkness seems to be growing, I find myself clinging to the firm reality of the sunrise.
Suppressing pain is an easy way to manage the agony in the moment, but the pain doesn't truly go away until it’s addressed.
We can’t control how or when grief comes, but we can control how we choose to respond.
Love can come from so many places.
We are going to keep living, whatever it takes.
I’m afraid that this pain won’t ever go away.
I never felt anger over her decision. From my own diagnosis of PTSD, I knew that much of what she did wasn’t her fault or entirely in her control.
How to even begin? I was pregnant, and now I’m not.
My favorite person in the world isn’t here anymore. All the trips I wanted us to take, the late-night chats yet to be had, cups of our favorite tea yet to be enjoyed. I don’t know what the solution is, but I do know that she’d want me to keep running.
Some days your ears hear things they don’t want to. Your eyes see things they don’t want to. Your heart feels things it really doesn’t want to. But it happens.
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