Grief, ED recovery, Mental Health and all the lovely things that give my Sisyphean rock meaning
When Marks & Spencer announced it was closing, I was surprised by how upset I felt. This isn’t really a story about a supermarket. It’s a story about friendship, Christmas sandwich competitions, Yorkshire puddings, grief, and how sometimes we leave pieces of the people we love in unexpected places.
Today marks six years since my best friend WeeGee died. It’s the first year I’ve lived this anniversary without running away from it. So my son and I went out to do all the things she loved - coffee, candles, little gifts - carrying her with me in every small joy.
I’ve tried grief therapy. It didn’t work. This book - The Pretty Painful Grief Book - actually is. It doesn’t sugar-coat or preach. It just asks the right questions. Some of them hurt. Some made me cry. But they helped. This post is about how I’m using it, and why it matters.
I didn’t expect to feel her again. But there she was — in a glimmer on the pavement, in two ducks blocking the path, in my chest where grief lives. For the first time in years, I felt her presence instead of her absence. Like maybe… we’re still walking together.
Absurd Universe 