A loss is a fact of life, may it be a heartbreak, a death of a loved-one, a limb, that favourite job you wanted to hold unto till retirement or can be anything, its' value depends to the person for its' sentimentality.
A shot from my Samsung Galaxy S7, about 1:30 PM last Saturday, November 25th.
Heartbreak or losing a loved-one
For now I will focus on these two...both so painful that to continue to breathe is a STRUGGLE. Needing to force oneself to go on, regardless. Losing someone you love hurts, very very much. The pain indescribable, not just for a day, a year, or it can be forever.
The pain is real, coinciding with one's will to live. Thoughts of how to go on without that special someone, without your Dad or your Mom, your husband or your wife, your child? How empty and bleak is the future that have become? So sudden, throwing you out of balance, throwing your goals, dreams and aspirations of the future out of the window. Suddenly, you lost your focus, becoming lost, not wanting to go on and wanting to be in a place where there is no PAIN.
Throwing your own LIFE away
I can understand why some people do drastic things when in pain. With no judgment, I emphatised with each person who have ever done something against themselves. THEIR THOUGHTS WERE REAL.
What follows after, that is something else.
Before I couldn't understand these things very well nor have that maturity about life. A close friend of mine acted on it when I stupidly told her,
"The pain will only go away if you stop it."
She attempted suicide after that. I still can see her eyes looking at me from her bed in A&E. She was begging me...and I didn't know how to help her. It was a mutual break-up, yet her pain was unbearable, and left me breathless with chest heaviness when thinking about her, being with her. Took her a long time to get over it.
She's ok now..but it shocked me to the core on how my careless words pushed her to act on it. I was young and have learnt a lot from that though through the years.
LOSING A PARENT
I was already working abroad when my Dad died...a sudden heart attack took him away from us. His first and the last.
Was it denial that pushed me to not go home for his funeral? Was I selfish to not be there? In my mind he was so alive and I didn't think I could bear seeing his body inside a coffin. I was his baby, the youngest in the family. And without any explanations, my mom understood my decision. She never asked me WHY. I knew for a fact that she was well looked after. In hindsight, i felt guilty for not being there with her.
Everybody sees me as this very strong person. But in contrary, ALL I WANTED WAS TO BE ALONE. And up in the mountains, i was with my DAD. I grieved and accepted that I will never see him again..
Remembering him, smiling through my tears.
