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Self-Care During Grief

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I have always believed myself to be a strong individual. Place a challenge before me and I will rise to the occasion. In fact, if life becomes somewhat predictable or a little too “calm”, I intentionally shake things up – I actively pursue change. The day my mom died, I shattered. My heart. My spirit. My psyche. Devastated. Obliterated. Destroyed. I was in shock, I knew that, but I was also terrified. I hadn’t realized how fragile I was. I sat in the middle of the bed clutching my stomach in a makeshift bear hug. It was as if I were literally attempting to hold myself together. Those early days were horrible. The grief was unbearable. Tears streamed down my face often without my knowledge. The loss - the void - was excruciating. I didn’t know how I’d put the shattered pieces together again. Honestly, I didn’t know if I’d even be able to FIND them. It took a while, but I finally realized that to be able to move forward, I had to do something that I have never really been very........

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