Isn’t that what they say? That grief is a bitch? I’ve heard it said so many times in my life. I remember when my mom died in early 2016. It was horrible. It sucked. It was a bitch. I remember crying. I remember things triggering my tears for a couple of years. Even longer than that. I still miss her, and it has been nearly 6 years.
But now, with a new loss…it has now hit me why they say that grief is a bitch. A dirty, nasty bitch that we all wish would fade away into whatever depths of whatever version of hell you may or may not believe to exist.
I have spent the last nearly 4 weeks venting on social media. Like my own personal blog. My own personal version of therapy. Maybe this is a better place to share my feelings. Maybe not. But regardless, you will all now become victims of my venting. My verbal spewing. My attempts to make sense of the inner depths of my most recent trip to see that horrible bitch named Grief.
Grief is a B!tch 