Things I’ve Learned Happen After You Lose a Loved One, Part 2

November 18th, 2020

The seconds, hours, and days keep ticking by, and I keep learning new things about this new time in my life. I may as well write you a letter in the form of a sequel.

Things I’ve Learned Happen After You Lose a Loved One, Part 2

– I hurt the exact same whether I’m active and engaged with others or I’m quiet and try to keep to myself. I often feel like I’m staring through the glass while sitting in the cab of a crane, mindlessly pulling levers and pressing buttons, persistently trying to build things while only able to think about their destruction.

– Not all my thoughts are that dark, but I have trained myself to smile and try to laugh a little when I do. So that’s what I’m doing the next time you see me smile and laugh a little for no apparent reason.

– Not hugging people hurts me more than it hurts you.

– If someone disagrees with you, it does not matter if your mom just died. They will still come at you, bro. This is especially true online, where I still regularly receive messages and comments like I haven’t just suffered one of the most devastating losses of my life, often over the stupidest shit you could possibly think of. Yesterday, someone told me I was “no better than Trump” because I believe in compassion for human beings, having an understanding of science, and comprehending the idea of decency. (I have the receipts.) This was the equivalent of a child trying to think of a word to call you that would really hurt you, and it came out, honestly, exactly how I just described it. To be fair, I engaged in this behavior. But if I’ve learned anything this year, it’s that empathy is a mental illness, and I am very, very mentally ill. I love people so much I can’t help but talk about it all the time. And if that invites a bunch of trolls who want to prey on a vulnerable, emotionally unstable target (that’s me!), well… I guess I just gotta love you harder.

– Every time I think I’ve experienced everything my subconscious can create, it says something like, “Bro, check out this magic trick!” while setting my body on fire.

– I don’t know when I’ll stop feeling my stomach drop when I wake up and remember my mom is really gone, but it’s not this morning.

– I will never get tired of you reaching out and saying hello. My responses are usually brief, because I don’t have a lot to say on an individual basis, and I feel like I’m repeating myself a lot lately, but each message hits my heart like a raindrop and it is deeply appreciated.

– Losing a loved one during a pandemic is the fucking worst. Do not recommend. 0/10

All my love, guys, gals, and everyone in-between and beyond. I’m hanging in there, like that cat on the poster. I hope you are, too.

Published by dennisvogen

I'm me, of course. Or am I?

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