The stories in this book span my four and a half years of widowhood. They are mine and mine alone. Some of this was written intentionally; other parts were journal entries or texts to friends in moments of desperation. None of this is a guideline or advice on how to grieve. Everybody deals with loss and trauma differently, and we all do the best we can with what we’ve got in the moment. If you need to go batshit crazy for a little while, you will get no judgement from me; I have done it myself. Lastly, while these accounts are not my proudest moments, nor do I find them shameful. They are simply how I survived the sheer chaos and recurring temporary insanity that has ensued since my husband’s suicide.
I know her! So of course I only have good things to say. Read it before but this time it hit different. Being apart of that club is rough and everyone has their own path through. Learn to not judge them on their journey of grief