So I did the logical thing. I took a shower. As much as it costs spoons, a shower can usually clear my head a little, and some of my most perspective shifting thinking was done in the shower.
So there I was, turning under the shower head like a rotisserie chicken, and caught myself with, "wait a minute, hold the phone, I'm still grieving, aren't I?"
Because grandma died at the end of September. It's only been, I had to think about this for a second, 3 months.
And so here I was, lathering up a soap bar, saying to myself: homie, this why you're "off" and lashing out. This why you're being all kinds of impulsive and irrational. Your therapist has even said it, it's what grief does to people. It makes us feel like we've lost our minds. It makes us not ourselves. It makes us feel like we've gone crazy and it makes us do crazy things. Bro, remind me, how many times have we seen phrases like "mad with grief" in books written by authors stretching across millenia. You're still being like this, because you're still grieving a loss that sent you to hell and you had to look the devil in the eyes to get back. Bro, like, fuck, it be this.
And now I'm sitting here on my bed like, I'm glad I took that shower.
