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There are 5 stages of loss and grieving. With the help of a great therapist, family members and friends who loved the life back into me, Beyonce’s Lemonade, Kirk Franklin’s Losing My Religion, and a bit of time, I have been through them all.
- Denial & Isolation – “He can’t be serious. Nope. He’ll change his mind.”
- Anger – “Who the fuck does he think I am?”
- Bargaining – “If only I had… What if we..?”
- Depression – “I am not OK!”
- Acceptance – “Let it be. I’m done.”
I can say that this was not an easy process, and I’m still in the throws of full Acceptance. Oddly enough, I had to cycle through some stages a few times before I got to the final stage. I cried myself to sleep. I cancelled all my plans. I finally allowed myself to be angry. I saw him again. I was in denial that things had changed. I bargained, then I got angry all over again. I was a sad shell of a person. I saw him again. I wished him well, meant that shit, and drove far away. Slowly. Surely. I am moving forward. Slowly. Surely. I am remembering who I am.
My middle name, Farahah, is a derivative of an Arabic name meaning “joy.” Today I realized that my mother gave me a gift when she named me. You see, in the midst of the muck and sadness, I somehow forgot that I, literally, am joy. Me! I am joy. And I am enough. Today I am OK. Today I smile. Today I’m living. Today I can breathe easily. Today I hurt a lot less.Today I am hopeful. Today I can laugh from deep within my round belly. Today I glow. Today I remember that my life is a miracle. Today I am free. Today I am grateful.
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