Grief isn't linear. Some days I'm okay. Some days it hits like it just happened. Both are valid.
Some days the weight feels heavier than others. Today was one of those days. But I got out of bed, and that counts for something.
Started therapy last month. It's harder than I expected, but also somehow lighter? Like carrying a heavy bag and finally being allowed to set it down.
Started therapy last month. It's harder than I expected, but also somehow lighter? Like carrying a heavy bag and finally being allowed to set it down.
Does anyone else struggle with asking for help? I've always been the 'strong one' and it's exhausting.