Losing Alex changed me in ways I’m still trying to understand.
One of the biggest changes is that I no longer have time for bullshit.
Things that used to bother me or stress me out don’t seem to matter the same way anymore. I still don’t like being late, but if someone is driving slowly in front of me, I’ve learned to just accept it. I don’t get worked up over it the way I might have before. I’m rarely in a rush to get anywhere.
Work doesn’t stress me out the same way either. A to-do list is just a to-do list. Things will get done, or they won’t. There was a time when I would let all of that build up inside me until it felt overwhelming. Now, most of it just doesn’t feel worth the energy.
I used to panic over the thought of dying. It scared me. I would think about it and feel that fear rise up in me. But now I don’t really worry about it. That does not mean I want to die. I don’t. But I’m also not afraid of death in the same way anymore.
Grief changes your relationship with everything.
It changes what feels important. It changes what feels urgent. It changes what feels worth carrying.
I don’t find much value in complaining about things anymore. I don’t really have the time or energy for it. I don’t have much patience for the nonsense and bullshit going on in the world. Not because I don’t care about anything, but because grief has already taken so much from me. It has already used so much of me.
There are only so many things I can carry now.
And right now, if I’m honest, I don’t feel like I’m really living life.
I feel like I’m surviving it.
I’m doing what needs to be done. I’m getting through the day. I’m making it from one day to the next.
That’s what grief has done to me.
It has made some things clearer. It has made some things smaller. It has made some things meaningless.
But it has also made life feel harder to fully step back into.
I’m still here. I’m still moving. I’m still doing what I need to do.
But right now, most days, it feels less like living and more like surviving.
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