It sounds dramatic to say, “I’m no stranger to death.” I mean, melodramatic. Instead I’ll say, “I’m no stranger to grief.” (I just remembered/realized that Jesus was “acquainted with grief . . .”) Sometimes I say I don’t grieve well and other times I say it’s one of my accomplishments. The fact is, when someone I love dies I take it hard and I take it long.
Remember that movie A Beautiful Mind? The Russell Crowe character figured out when he was hallucinating because the little girl never grew up. It is similar for me. I can tell I’m in grief-induced depression because I can’t tell how my words affect others and I take things wrong. I’m ignorant and delusional, I guess.
I’m hoping to wake up one day and feel OK again. In the meantime, I’m rewriting parts of my book wherein my Main Character has experienced a significant loss. In addition to having researched the stages of grief for her, I am observing them in myself. And I’m able to give an accurate, non-objective flavor to her grieving.
And I gotta admit, it kind of tickles me to write in little scenes I never thought of before.