Good Grief or Whatever…😕

 Disclaimer: I’M STILL VERY MUCH A THUG. DON’T GET IT TWISTED! But this is about to be a post about death, loss, and grief. So if you cannot take it, please do not read! Also, I did not proofread/edit this cuz imma be honest, I didn’t feel like it lmao 😂 

Aight don’t expect jokes cuz ain’t shit funny, niggas! I’m lying. I will joke about anything, which includes my pain and trauma. As I am writing this, it is currently February 20th. Now, I’m not gonna hold y’all, the past week has been very rough. I’m veryyyyy close to being on 72 hour hold. Thank God I didn’t say the magic words.

I was convinced this is one of my regular depressive episodes and I gotta ride it out. I already got my period this month (Thank God!) so what else could be fucking with me like this?

It’s February 20th. February 25th will mark 8 years since my cousin unexpectedly left this earth and sparked feelings inside I never felt and never thought I could feel.

Chrissi has feelings?!?! Bruh, I’m just as shocked as you are.

Every year, around this time, I feel some kind of sadness and I never know what it is until I look at the date and a light bulb goes off. Then the light bulb cracks, completely shatter, and now there’s utter and complete darkness.

At this point in my life, I realized that the pain of loss is really like a weird scar. 

When you first get it, it hurts like a bitch and you’re doing whatever to heal that shit, but ultimately it’ll heal on its own. However, no matter how many years pass, it’s still there. It doesn’t go anywhere. Just there, rent free, like some of y’all’s broke ass boyfriends. 

I’m sorry that stray was probably uncalled for but I know some of y’all need to hear it. Let that bum ass nigga go STAT.

But yeah, you’ll be minding your business, going about life, then out of nowhere, you notice that scar and some of that pain you felt when you first got it comes back. The grief never goes away. You just grow around it.

I was in my freshman year of college when my dad told me that his nephew, my cousin, is dead. Best believe a nigga went through some phases of grief. I was in denial. Not only was I in denial about his death, I was in denial about my depth of my love.

You see, he was significantly older than me. That’s what happens when your grandma decides to have your dad when she was damn near menopause and your dad, the youngest, has you in his mid to late 30’s. Just old people doing shit. 

So we didn’t have a super close relationship, but he was still dear to me. He used to “kidnap” me when I was a toddler. I was supposed to be getting babysat by my grandma, but no, he took me to whenever. According to my mom, I had a good ass time with him. I was his little bestie.

His name ended up being my first word. Yep, we were locked in, according to my mom.

I still remember his crazy driving that I don’t remember experiencing, but everyone else did! I remember whenever he saw me, he would smile big and say “CHRISSI!!!”

He was the first one to call me Chrissi, and I hated it at first, but it grew on me and decided to keep going with it and let it stick. 

Due to our age gap, we were obviously in very different stages of life. I was in middle school and he was married, raising children. Very different. He lived in another state as well, so it was very much a “imma see you when I see you” relationship.

So imagine my surprise when I find myself crying every single day for over a week. I would be crying all the time. I couldn’t even stay in my college classes because the grief was too much. I had some understanding professors, but my grades did end up taking a hit. Grieving and still trying to get through the second semester of college was actual hell. 

I never know how much I loved him until he was gone forever. 

I was and still kind of am a person who doesn’t really show their emotions. Another lovely trait I got from my father. So when he died, a dam broke and I felt emotions I never thought I could. 

Someone once said “grief is love with no place to go” and I couldn’t agree more.

We weren’t even close like that and he fucked my city up with that one.

The reality is when someone you love dies, it leaves a hole in your heart that no one can fill, but honestly, you don’t even want them to. 

The pain from that death was part of many reasons why I got scared to get close to people and push them away. It’s all because if I felt that way with him, imagine someone I saw everyday, talked to everyday. I would be hanging off the ledge.

“Not letting ourselves be loved… because we’re too afraid of giving ourselves to someone we might lose.”

Grief fucking sucks. Death fucking sucks. I know it’s a part of the circle of life, but fuck that shit. That part of life is so trash. It sucks to love the fuck out of someone and one day, they’re taken from you and you can never see them again. Sitting in front of a bitchass box where their body is. Pleading hard that it was all a sick joke and they would arise.  Watching that bitchass box go into the dirt and more dirt go on top of it. It really sinks in that they are gone forever and never coming back. All you wish is for one last conversation, one last look, one last hug. Just the chance to say goodbye and knowing for sure they hear it.

It’s like Mariah Carey once sang: “And it's true that you've reached the better place

Still, I'd give the world to see your face.”

Word of advice to anyone grieving, feel that shit. I tried not to and honestly, it was so much worse for me. You got to feel every fucking emotion in order to properly move on. There’s no timeline for grief, so don’t let anyone tell you to get over it or make it seem like you’re weird for grieving as long as you are.

Your love has no place to go. Of course it’s gonna fucking hurt for a while.

I think I’ve said enough and honestly, I shed a tear or two writing these last parts. See? It never fully goes away.

I am successfully posting this on February 25th for him. I hope he’s proud of me and sees how hard I’m trying.

But I still wish he was here.