Wounded

More than a year and a half later and the wounds are still fresh, open and weeping. As a control freak, I save every single email I receive unless it’s something pointless like FaceBook notification ones. To this day, I cannot bring myself to read the emails I sent and received around the time of grandpa’s death. Unless I want to end up in a giant puddle of saltwater and revive my formerly inconsolable grief and use up every Kleenex in the house and have to go out and buy 10 more boxes in bulk from Costco…Why is it that some people appear to get over their loved ones’ deaths so easily? I know people who hardly wept any tears at the memorial service or the funeral. Is it because they keep everything bottled up inside? Or maybe they just have really amazingly good control of their emotions. Or maybe it’s because they are able to look past death, and see the picture. How I admire those people! Either way, I don’t think I see myself accepting his death anytime soon. Consciously, I have accepted it but subconsciously, I don’t think I have.

What I’ve learned/re-realized about myself today: It’s hard for me to let things (like death) go. I am overly emotional and little things are enough to trigger panic and anxiety attacks.