I’ve been keeping on keeping on. And slowly, I’ve started to move closer to feeling a bit more like normal me again. When I realise that, I’m pleased. And then I feel awful. You are dead and I’ve ruined so many lives. I shouldn’t be allowed to feel OK again.
Eventually I go full circle. It’s something I’m trying to work out in counselling: the acceptance of healing. After all, as I analyse in some of my more bitter moments, you came into my life, found out I wasn’t happy, leant on me, pushed me to cross the line, and then abruptly left, abandoning me. I’m not saying it wasn’t consensual, but I do feel you’ve shirked a lot of responsibility by killing yourself and leaving me fumbling about, trying to pick up the pieces. It wasn’t *all* me. So I should be allowed to heal, right?
I guess I need to come to terms with the fact that, as well as it being OK to not be OK, it is OK to be OK.