Processing the death of a friend: Depression
There is no hope in death, not on this side of heaven. I don’t want to admit my sadness, but it’s there. I suppressed it for the first week after Johnny died, but it’s like an inner tube that you push down into the pool. No matter how long you hold it down it’ll eventually come up.
So today I’m accepting the sadness. Admitting the feeling that says “I hate this. There is no hope, there is no joy, and at many times there are no words.”
No words? For a writer who can always express how she’s feeling through the twenty-six letters on her keyboard, this is uncomfortable. Yes, no words.
My eyes are heavy.
My heart sinks.