I’m an atheist. I don’t believe there is a higher being controlling us; I don’t believe everything happens for a reason; I don’t believe you go anywhere after you die. The world is how it is, there’s nothing beyond this. In February of 2019 these opinions were reinforced. The world confirmed that no, everything doesn’t happen for a reason; that no, nobody is making these decisions for us. Shit happens. In February of 2019 she jumped off her balcony. That was it. Few hours earlier she was there and then she just wasn’t. This didn’t happen because God was trying to punish her. This didn’t happen because “everything happens for a reason”. It just happened.
After that I really understood why people wanted there to be an afterlife. It just didn’t seem fair that someone so wonderful was just gone, she had nowhere left to go. Who knows, maybe there is an afterlife, and maybe she’s there. I wouldn’t be angry about that, I wish that were true, I so badly wish that were true; but I know it’s not.
After that I really struggled with knowing how to act. The knowledge that this happened stayed in the back of my mind always, but I still went about normal life. I did this both because I didn’t want anyone to worry about me, I wanted to make sure they were happy, and I didn’t want to add on to their problems. But also because I just didn’t know what to do. I was hurt, but I didn’t know how to show that, I didn’t know if I should.
I thought about her everyday for months after but never talked about her. Even before this happened I wasn’t in touch with that side of myself. Everything had to be happy all the time. I just want everyone around me to be happy and I felt the best way to do that was to put out positivity always. I still believe that sending positivity and optimism out into the world helps people step out of their negativity, but that positivity and optimism can’t be fake. I don’t think I ever realized it was.
I struggled with how to grieve the “right” way. Everytime I would let myself feel something about it I would just think about how much other people have gone through; how this was nothing compared to some people’s lives; how I am so lucky to have the life I have. This stopped me from healing. I’ve come to realize that being thankful doesn’t have to come with guilt. I am so grateful for everything I have, every opportunity I’ve been given, every day I spend inside in my home; but this doesn’t mean I should ignore what happened. She deserves to be grieved. She deserves to be remembered. She deserves to be loved even from beyond this life.
This past year I’ve learned to heal. I hate that it took something so horrible to wake me up and make me more in touch with myself. I in no way “know who I am” but I think this gave me a blank slate. I have to start to find the part of myself that for so long I ignored. Sadness and negativity is a part of me and I have to accept that in order to heal. I am still healing. I will always be healing from this, grief doesn't just “get better”. Slowly you are able to go back to normal life. Slowly the hurt doesn’t fill your thoughts. But that doesn’t mean it never will again. That pain will always stay with you, you just have to come to accept it, be ready for it. I love her, I always will, and I will continue to grieve and heal for the rest of my life.
