writing is a relief

I started writing today. I did some laundry, but besides that, I've had another lazy day. I'm sitting in bed. I was scrolling on my phone, I'm drowning in it lately. But, I wanted to do something else. I saw the time passing by, which made me anxious, I felt like I had to let something out. I've been struggling more the past few weeks. I don't really know why. The first few days and weeks after her passing, I was numb. I barely came out of bed, didn't feel like eating, but I also barely cried. Then a month later, I had a relieving session of brainspotting therapy and a couple of days later, it finally came out. I cried a lot the days and weeks after that. But soon, I went back to normal, back to numb. Then the holidays came, New Years was a shock to me. I didn't want to leave you in 2025 just yet, I needed more time. This is the first year without you, the first time I will celebrate my birthday and we won't be exactly 50 years apart, but 51. The first exams without your messages and cards of support. So many firsts without you, I don't want that. I feel lost now. I work, I eat, I study if I try really hard, but I do most of these things from bed. I don't want to do anything. Seeing my week planned full overwhelms me. I don't sleep well even though my Apple Watch says I do and I take sleep medication. I feel awfully tired all day long, when I wake up, around noon, in the afternoon and in the evening. But, when the night comes, I can't sleep because I think of her. I think of the nauseating permanence that is death. I think of all the sleepovers we won't have. I think of your voice and how I'm starting to forget it. I think of your small manners that I might not remember forever. And I hate it, I'm angry, I never gave permission for my grandma to be taken away from me. I wanna protest, I wanna fight, but to who, and with whom? My psychologist told me that during those last weeks and months, my body went into survival mode. I remember how tired I became, I visited my grandma almost everyday, I slept there sometimes, we bathed her, we rubbed lotion on her, we brushed her hair and so many more things. But, anything else besides that felt like too much. I could barely focus on work or studying and whenever I was home I just wanted to rest and sleep. Now all those months later, my body is trying to heal from the survival mode, it asked so much energy from me, that I barely had. Now, it's asking for rest, to recover.