This grief was from the loss of a much beloved dog. Two years ago it was a best friend and two years before that it was a sister.
All of them died too young.
It's not the five stages of grief you've heard about. Those stages are for people who are dying, not the ones still living.
Phase 1 is waves of crushing pain. The waves are overwhelming and paralytic. Crying jag after crying jag. In the ebbs you try and function like the world hasn't ended.
Everyone around you talks softly.
Your head will ache. Your jaw will ache. Your eyes will burn and your eyelids will redden and swell.
If the death was related to an illness, there is also this feeling of relief that comes from not being scared for the worst case scenario anymore, because the worst thing has already happened.
You will then feel guilty for feeling relief.
If you were involved in care giving, the first time that care is no longer needed will result in a crying jag because you're no longer needed.
If you wished that things were better so that you didn't have to provide that care, you'll feel guilty for that too.
You'll go to bed exhausted and sleep poorly in this phase. You'll start crying before you even get your eyes open every time you wake.
Sympathy from people who care feels like taking a stake to the heart.
If the death was unexpected, phase 1 will be extra long.
Phase 2 is when doubt and second guessing comes into play.
Did you really do all you could?
Did you miss signs that now seem so clearly and glaringly evident in the aftermath?
If you were a decision maker leading up to the dying, you will replay those decisions over and over again.
If I had only noticed this...
If I had just pushed harder for...
If I...
Those "ifs" bang up against the cold reality that your window to change anything has closed for good.
The worst has already happened and you can't do anything about it now.
Regardless of your actual input into the situation, you will feel like a failure.
Crying jags continue to occur, but less often.
Phase 3 is when you're able to wake up without crying for days in a row.
You profoundly miss your lost love one, but you're able to handle a conversation about them without severe mental distress and crying.
You've not necessarily accepted how they've passed, nor your role in it, but you are resolute in the fact that it can't be changed.
You've accepted that their death is forever.
You're still incredibly sad and the tears are right there, just waiting for a memory or a word or an act to burst forth.
Phase 4 is when you've returned to what would be considered regular life. You're back to work and social situations (at least the ones you feel like participating in). You are able to shelve your grief for hours or days at a time.
It's still there though, and it creeps out from time to time. A funny story you are recounting is interrupted by a catch in your throat. Then your eyes start to leak. Suddenly your funny story isn't funny anymore and you wish you never started talking.
If you're lucky, you're around people who know and understand. Regardless, you still feel uncomfortable.
Phase 5 takes a long damned time. It's when you can look upon the lost one with love and affection and joy for them being a part of your life. You are largely at ease when speaking of them in past tense.
The hurt of losing them, of missing them, hasn't left you, but the peace you've made with their death means it's no longer a source of daily pain and distress.
You know that your life was made better for knowing them, you just really wish you could still talk to them now and then.
As far as I've experienced, there is no phase 6. You just get really good at phase 5.
As life goes on, you'll go through 1 to 5 often enough that you'll recognize the stages too. It'll give you a cumulative feeling of sorrow for all the loved ones lost and perspective that you will get through this one too, once you've gotten through the worst phases 1 and 2.
