Is grief my new identity? This is the question with which I grapple the most. Why is grief such a battle? Why is it that each time I feel ready to take a step forward a bolt of grief strikes me out of the clear blue sky?

As I ponder this question I wonder what Yolanda would be wanting for me. I can safely say that she certainly wouldn’t want me to be stuck in this marshland of depression. She would want me to be appreciative of the life we shared together, maybe she would allow some sadness, however she wouldn’t want me to continue week in and week out with this dreadfully heavy load of grief. She would want me to be living my life to the fullest with those who remain behind with me.

So why is it that I struggle to move forward? Maybe I am the one who is holding myself back. Perhaps it could be that if I move forward it would be as if I had forgotten Yolanda, at least that is the perception in my head. Could it be that grief has become my familiar friend. In some strange way this has become my safe place.

I don’t really have the answer to this question however do feel that there is some truth to grief being a friend, it has become easier to handle the responses when I again say “Oh what a tough week”. I am comfortable with this place. To say I have had a great or even an awesome week would be entering into unfamiliar territory.

It could be as simple as I have allowed grief to become my new identity.

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