I know we are supposed to be euphemistic about suicide but someone I love deeply has killed herself and I'm sorry if that sounds violent but it is, it was, and I just don't know how else to be honest without these words https://t.co/i1jFhT9rHO
Jennifer Senior • It’s Your Friends Who Break Your Heart
Alex Wittenberg and added
“I wish I could say you get used to people dying. I never did. I don't want to. It tears a hole through me whenever somebody I love dies, no matter the circumstances. But I don't want it to "not matter." I don't want it to be something that just passes.... See more
“My scars are a testament to the love and the relationship that I had for and with that person. A
Why All Love Stories Are Destined to End in Tragedy
If grief is love with nowhere to go, I am full of it. Still, I am not sure I want to have a child. My downfall is that I want to live all lives in one, and soon I have to choose one.
Molly Simpson added
via METAXU
“Guilt. I’ve seen this so many times. She hasn’t visited her for years. Now she’s here acting like she can’t live without her mother. It’s bullshit, Cat,” he said. And I knew he was right.
Caitlin Doughty • Smoke Gets in Your Eyes: And Other Lessons from the Crematory
Maria Popova • Your Brain on Grief, Your Heart on Healing
Yufa and added
"As long as there is love, there will be grief. The grief of time passing, of life moving on half-finished, of empty spaces that were once bursting with the laughter and energy of people we loved.
As long as there is love there will be grief because grief is love's natural continuation. It shows up in the aisl... See more
3-2-1: On the source of inspiration, the bond between love and grief, and the power of hope
I understand why people take refuge in hyperbole to make their pain legible. But you can’t trick yourself out of feeling that pain through terminology alone.
James Greig • Love bombing, gaslighting, and the problem with pathologising dating talk
Ben Percifield added
She felt she wasn’t equipped to handle life, she wrote, that she felt like an alien, a freak, that consciousness was intolerable and that she was scared of going crazy. “Good-bye,” she wrote, then gave a list of people she’d known. I was sixth on the list of twenty-five.