It comes in waves

That’s what they say in grief groups. Be patient with yourself, kind to yourself, realize that grief is not a straight line - it comes in waves. Which means you’ll always be sad because he’s never coming back.

And I try to just accept that, to accept the sad. But the anniversary of Randy’s death was very hard on me - I had thought I was making progress but, you know, waves. For the last two weeks I drag myself out of bed, struggle to get anything done. I feel like I’m back in the first few months after Randy’s death and I feel like I can’t do this again, but of course I have to. I try not to think about how many people say the second year is harder than the first.

This morning, after sleeping very little, I just sat in bed and cried for an hour. Then I got up, blew my nose one last time, took a shower, got dressed, and collapsed into the bean bag chair. And I ate a piece of pizza.