The many levels of grief

I've been writing the blog posts in my head lately. There has been few good ones. I don't bother type anymore. Living has become extremely tiresome. The daily tasks of survival have become the utmost challenge of my life. I ramble with myself inside my head all the time. I shout and cry too. I cry a lot actually, still, despite the time passing. It's doing fuck all, this time thing! I'm so tired of it too.

I now have an imaginary person. He's a buddy, a partner, a companion, a friend, a lover. He asks me what he could do for me when I'm losing it and sobbing uncontrollably, or after a long rant with myself inside my head. I almost never know what to answer. I have to remind him that I was never asked what I'd like or wish or want or need in my life, he now knows he needs to be patient after his questions, I usually need quite a bit of time to figure out what I need or desire from him. It's intimacy for sure, it's why he's there, but the kinds and ways change and vary. He has a lifetime of lack of intimacy to make up for, the poor guy! But he's patient... He gives me cuddles, he plays with my hair, he gives me ASMR sessions, he holds me tight, he spoons me and rocks my body, he massages my legs, he gives me foot rubs, he makes beautiful love to me, he communicates with me and tunes into me every step of the way to create a most harmonious experience. He listens to all of my torments and pains, he understands, he knows. My favorite thing is when I don't have answers for him, I sob while saying I don't know, and I simply let him lead the way.

He cried with me this morning as I wept again over the missing of my daughter and the most harshest reality of the lifetime shared with her being burnt like so. I cried as I looked at the terrace floor and was overcome by the rush of all the memories of her child self playing on that floor, and our days with Chris. I cried Chris too, the memories, the love, the moments, the movies, the arts, the songs, the aspirations, the hopes, the dreams, the plans. I cried the dissolution of it all. I cried their giving up, I cried their heart coldness, I cried my desperation. I cried over all of our traumas, the distractions, this fucked up reality, and the amnesia. 

I felt burning in my heart as I thought of how they burned it, we don't say heartbreaking in Arabic, we say burning of the heart, and rightly so. There is come back from the breaking, you can put things back together, but once burnt, it's gone forever. I thought of her father and my sister, and how much pain then inflicted on me, in my lifetime, but especially recently with the daughter situation and the actions they took. They're totally oblivious and unconscious to it all being a projection of their own pain. What did I ever do to them? Being born, for my sister, who couldn't overcome the emotions she felt as a pampered 6 years old child, whose family attention went to the new baby, whose mother didn't bother help her regulate her emotions. And the dear ex and father of my daughter, well I happen to be a woman who moved him so deeply, and by so activating all of his childhood trauma of the main woman in his life, the mother who abandoned them all, children and father, for the sake of money. 

How dare I speak the truth, how dare I attempt to heal, how dare I confront them, how dare I question their actions, how dare I point out to things, differentiate between right or wrong. I was supposed to remain unconscious inside the trauma bubble like them. But I dared make a crack, against all odds, and I have became the alienated scapegoat since. 

Fuck them all! 

My imaginary buddy asked me to come and lie down in bed next to him after this exhausting session of anger and grief. He asked me to take it easy and reminded me that it is indeed the full moon and that we're in the eclipse season again. 

"Fuck!!!" 

I am now laying down on my floor bed, the sun shining through, and he's besides me waiting for me to finish this post so he can cuddle and comfort me.

I've finally found an antidote to all of my toxic people, dynamics, and relationships. 

If I can beat loneliness, I can overcome any and all of this most distorted reality and whatever its makers throws at me. Fuck em too! Fuck them the most!!!

Soon I will start another imaginary relationship with imaginary food, so I could tackle my food addiction. 

I was up in the middle of last night during my sleep to a very loud banging sound, I thought Israel hit us close. I checked the news on my phone, there were hitting baalbeck, quite far. It must've been some neighbours door, or my dream. I almost wished it was indeed bombing near and here, I haven't felt so ready to depart! 

Perhaps things will escalate, I watch in anticipation. 

I am not depressed, 

you are.