I’ve just hit the fifth month without Ben, the love of my life who I lost to suicide in January this year, and I’ll be honest, I thought by now I’d be a bit further on my “grief journey,” when in fact, I’m probably right at the beginning.
I’m writing this after two days of continuous crying, and when I say continuous, I mean probably three hours of one day when I wasn’t crying and an hour of the other day.
I don’t think I’ve cried like that once in the whole five months since Ben has been gone. Grieving during lockdown has been anything but normal.
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