I don’t like to talk about things that I don’t know. It would be wrong  and pretentious of me to assume that my imagination (which is a pretty kickass imagination by the way) could understand more of a situation than someone who has lived through it. As a result I will barely write about relationships, I find humans highly complex and sometimes my head hurts trying to figure out how humans operate, that’s the beauty of it I guess. I won’t  write about money on two accounts a) I don’t really have any and b) whenever I have it, I’m terrible with it. I won’t write about Science, again I never know what’s going on with Science. Science makes my head hurt too. So there we go. I like to share things that I know, things that I have at least some experience in. I’ll talk to you about falling out of moving cars, and getting lost at ZOU when I was four years old and wanting rabbits at age 11…those are things that I lived, things that I can attest to. I recently learnt about grief and how it works (at least for me)

There are supposedly, allegedly five stages of grief . Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Despair and finally Acceptance. In a parallel universe, where dogs speak and unicorns exist, acceptance is the final stage. You accept and then move on-skip away to the sunset or something odd like that. But this is our dimension; cake makes you fat, Channing Tatum is miles away and acceptance isn’t really the last stage. What comes after it is a stage that I call “ What In The Actual F**k  Am I Doing? –WITAFAID. I am trademarking WITAFAID so that Agnes doesn’t use it to make herself sound smart at work tomorrow.

So WITAFAID ™ lasts longer than the other stages, because it’s essentially you going back to your life but it’s no longer the same for obvious reasons so it’s like stepping into this large empty room which is your life now then shouting “WITAFAID” and there’s no response because…well, it’s just you.

I’ve been at stage 6 for a bit now.  Now, I am not a strong person,  I am but I’m not like set the sails of a thousand ships strong (I mean I can barely hold farts in sometimes) which means I’ve been a little lost lately.  I have no idea what I’m doing, don’t know if I’m coming or going, I just am. I’m getting mad at things that shouldn’t make people mad, I’m  not getting mad at things I would have thrown daggers at months back. I go from not wanting to do a single thing to actively looking for tasks to do, and anyone who knows me knows I’m a lazy bum. I’m basically drifting and I hope at least one person identifies with what’s going on with me. If at any point you feel any of these things and feel like a train wreck, the good news is you’re not in that trainwreck alone. There’s a whole train of people with unanswered questions and conversations that they would give anything to have and money that they will never get back. (Come on, you thought about it) there with you.

WITAFAID is going to last a while, a year at the least. WITAFAID’s  a buzzkill, like that annoying relative who comes to visit but just won’t go away. They’ll stay pretty long but at least you know they’ll  go away. You don’t know when but you know they will. Some days will be okay, others not so much. And at times it will feel like you’re going through the entire cycle all over again and it’s  okay to feel that way. But I promise, one day, you will wake up and your life will feel like yours again, it won’t be strange, it won’t make you scream “WITAFAID???” it’ll be familiar once again. Think of it this way…remember how we learnt that earthquakes happen to balance tectonic plates? That’s how this is. Your tectonics will shake for a bit before your planet finds its balance once more. (Take that Science, I know stuff about you)

I’ve been WITAFAIDing for a bit now, 47 days I think and at a lot of turns, I have to check my own pulse, make sure I’m still here, making sure I’m doing right by myself and everyone around me. And I think 47 is a big number and I think I deserve a reward and I think I will get cake today even though this is the universe where cake makes you fat. 47 doesn’t have to be your benchmark, yours can be a day. Every day that you get out of bed and duly handle everything that you should is a victory. It’s a very long tunnel, long and dark and I’m pretty sure there are mice in there but the silver lining always is, it’s a tunnel that has an end. I’m not promising light at the end of it, I’m promising that an end exists.