Unfortunately, the sentiment “time heals all wounds” doesn’t really apply when it comes to grief. At least not for me, or my parents. Together, we live in a world that still contains my sister, while the rest of it seems to forget.
Our senses, restored, never
to be the same, whisper to us.
They existed. They existed.
We can be. Be and be
better. For they existed.
It’s why we keep going back to these music festivals, no matter how much they cost, no matter how far they may be. It’s its own type of therapy, an anti-depressant drug that offers no negative side effects.
How do we heal? I have taken countless psychology courses and learned about grief and depression on multiple occasions. Yet when actually faced with the situation, none of this information helps. I can’t seem to figure out how to heal myself. Every time a thought about my sister arises it cuts me so deep I […]