“How do you know when you’re grieving, and appropriately?”

“What does grief actually look like?”

“Why should I keep going?”

I’ve asked these questions and more so many times in the last few weeks. In different ways, various levels of pitch, in secrecy and in group settings. I’m angry and joyful and jealous and tearful. My thoughts don’t match my smile, and I think that’s the worst part for me.

Because I hate masks. I wore one for too long, and I refuse to do it again...

full story on sarahbakerwrites.com