I didn't expect it to be like this. I see what I'm doing: withdrawing from social activities, spending more time alone, seeking things that feel peaceful. Quiet. Still. While my brain keeps telling me it's not good, in my heart, it feels right. It doesn't feel like depression, it feels like healing. The worst part of an injury is the healing, right? The scab. The itch. The discomfort. The ache. That all comes right before the relief, right before it gets better. That's where I am right now. It looks like I'm getting worse. I promise I'm not. Each of us deal with grief in our own way. This is mine.
Sometimes it's crazy. Sometimes it's calm.