Nothing helps anymore. Not therapy, not meditation, not spiritual connection, not talking, not distracting myself, not new activities or new people. I’ve quit all the therapy and PTSD treatments and yoga and acupuncture and spiritual groups and grief groups. I’m done. I’m tired of feeling, because all I feel is sorrow. There is no end, it will never fucking end. I’m a broken person and I accept this will be the rest of my life.
I go through the motions. I do activities. I try to work. I ride my bike. I try to catch up on the responsibilities that I have fallen so far behind with. I am around people. Sometimes not the right people but at least I am not alone. I make poor choices. I’m vulnerable and don’t care. And after all of it, I am still in the same place. Talking to his photograph, empty.
I have done many important things in my life and accomplished so much. My life was full before I met him. But he expanded my life in one year more than my life expanded in the previous 8. I cannot live without him. All the time I have lived and will live since he died is wasted.
I just want some peace. There is none.