My Bill of Grief Rights
These are my bill of rights that I have created for myself, to empower me through my grief journey.
I have the right to be angry at those who have turned their backs on me at my time of need.
I have the right to cast aside all those who choose words or actions that cause me more harm and pain, and look for others who bring me words of peace.
I have a right to feel sadness, anger, pain, numbness, denial, pleasure, and happiness. I have a right to feel all of these arrays of emotions in a single day, single hour, and single minute and single millisecond.
I have a right to feel like I am crazy, on the verge of insanity, without the fear that others feel I need to be committed.
I have the right to have self-pity and wallow in it when I need to.
I have the right to feel intense fear, loneliness, and isolation, and not feel ashamed of it. I have the right to feel the need to reach out to others, as I am weak, not because that is who I am, but because my loss has weakened me.
I have a right to feel great anger, and scream out and curse God, and all those around me for taking away the man I loved.
I have a right to feel cheated and resentful that my dreams, my hopes, and my plans have been ripped away from me.
I have a right to feel guilty for all the things I didn’t do or say to the man I loved; for all the things I said or did that may have caused him pain. I have the right to feel regrets for all the unfinished business that I will never be able to complete.
I have the right to want to talk about the man I loved, over and over and over again. I have the right to not want to let go of the memories or the hope that he will come back to me again, no matter how insane this thought is.
I have a right to tell others of the goodness in this man, and also his flaws; for the times he made me happy, made me sad or angry…he was human, and all that he was, good and bad, is what made me love him. I have the right to not be looked down upon because we didn’t have “the perfect” relationship, or because at times, even in his death, I may speak words of anger of him. I will not place him on a pedestal, or make him into a saint….he wasn’t one, and neither was I…and I don’t believe there is anyone out there who is. He was just a man that I loved deeply, for all that he was. And he was a man, who loved me, for all the good and bad that I was.
I have the right to want to seek out others who understand me, so that I don’t feel so alone or isolated.
I have the right to long for him, to miss him, to ache at his absence.
I have the right to feel at times that death may be better than life.
I have the right to avoid the intense pain at times, just to have some relief.
I have the right to want to live and go on, and hope and search for that light at the end of the tunnel.
I have the right to see the world in my gray colored glasses, and know that nothing brings me joy right now.
I have the right to not care what others “think” about me, or what others “think” I should be doing.
I have the right to not have others define for me my pain, my sorrow, my feelings.
I have the right to want to be happy again one day, but only when I’m ready.
I have a right to keep him in my heart forever…never letting go of the life we had, the memories we shared, the impact he has made on my life. I am forever changed by having loved him and now by having lost him.
I have the right to make this MY PERSONAL JOURNEY, unique to only myself and no one else, and to know that I have the right to travel it for as long as the road takes, for however length of time it will take me, until I am able to find a place where the desire to live out weights the desire to die.
In loving memory to the man I loved, Robert
Loving you always, Diana