Elle Vampa

the birth of my existence,
amidst the dark a light, a ray,
never a stranger, seldom friends,
a lifetime of emotions in dismay,
but in all and every way
I will be okay

Elle Vampa

(Okay, so, apparently I write poetry now…)

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I thought it felt familiar.

Ha! See? I’m not stupid! Predictable? Probably.

Seeing as things go exactly as planned predicted by one Elisabeth Kübler-Ross:

Denial; check.
Anger; double check.
Negotiation; check-er-dee-check.

Last Thursday I visited my deceased friend’s family, and together with them also his grave.

Guess what?

We didn’t shed a single tear!

Not because we don’t miss him (we do!), but because we couldn’t stop reminiscing about our moments with him.

We kept finding him in our stories, and enjoyed recognising him in what we told one another. It was almost as if he was there with us.

If the reason of my visit hadn’t been such a gloomy one, I’d say we had quite an enjoyable day together.

But behind the laughter lay the pin pricks of hurt and grief, hidden in the knowledge that his 10-month-old niece, the one he doted on endlessly, will never as much as remember him.

Or the fact that he died alone – not wanting to burden anyone with being poorly, he shut everyone out. Nobody knew how sick he’d really been, because he never told a soul.

The biggest jab of hurt pushed me right into the next phase of mourning, when later that evening I fully realised the sadness of his death: it could have been prevented.

If only he’d called a doctor! If only he’d dialled the emergency number!! If only he’d told someone about what was happening!!!

He would still be alive today.

But no. I have to miss him, because he was too […] stubborn!

So yes, I thought it felt familiar: depression.

The fourth stage of mourning, as documented by Mrs. Kübler-Ross, feels like that unwanted yet well-known companion of my youth.

The one whose comeback I feared for years. Made me afraid of a ringing doorbell; always half-expecting it’d be my old “friend” forcing its way back into my life.

But here it is. Unforeseen yet no surprise.

And you know what? I’m happy to welcome it back.

Because I need it. I need the freedom of allowing myself to feel depressed. Of having my emotions go from sky high to sub-zero low.

I crave the comfort of something I know inside-out to help me deal with something I cannot comprehend.

I need this presence to help guide me towards the final stage of grief: acceptance.

For I cannot be at peace with my friend’s passing until I face this emotional war.

So, I’ve welcomed my depression in, sat it down and gave it a cup of tea. But make no mistake: it’s not here to stay.

Because one day, as sudden as its reappearance, it will leave again. Unwanted and unnecessary, it will lose its meaning of existence.

And in that knowledge lies the eternal truth: I will be okay ♥