Page 37 - The Houseguest

SOLITUDE
Karina used to enjoy this, being alone, experiencing solitude purposefully to get in touch with her inner self. I’ll never understand the pleasure she found in her intermittent bouts of seclusion because being alone was tearing me apart a little more every day. If I were asked to describe my depression in one word, it would be cruelty. The cruelty that the universe allowed me to first experience happiness beyond measure before suddenly erasing it entirely from my soul was more than I could bear. Had I never known love that intensely, my life would have continued on the predictable, yet acceptable trajectory it had been traveling.
During my initial research to save myself from personal destruction, I found literature regarding the five stages of grief, recognition of which is supposed to help you “learn to live” with loss. The hurdle for me was the “live” part...for I wasn’t entirely sure that was best for me. Evaluating the first stage: Denial, I felt as though I’d experienced this during periods of sublime hallucination, though the experts in grief surely didn’t intend it to be purposely created by the griever as an escape from the pain. In fact, my experience with this first stage of grief should’ve been titled fantasy instead of denial because I would intentionally replace reality with illusion whenever I felt myself nearing the edge of mental lucidity. Speaking aloud to them, making them breakfast, picking out Katie’s dresses for each day...all were caution signs. They say the first stage of denial, coupled with shock is how nature forces our brain to refuse the truth in order to protect us, filtering
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The Houseguest by Linda Ellis www.LindaEllis.life