Stages of grief

I've been creeping toward acceptance. I'm tired and broken down from this lifelong journey, and when everything came flooding back a few months ago, I realized the scope of my traumas is big.

I feel like I've been going through the various stages of grief for the past couple of years. Not because of a death of a loved one, but for my life as it is now. For my mental health and where it currently exists.

I went from fear to denial, to anger, and then to a deep sadness and an emptiness that can only be described as the vast darkness of space. That emptiness was frightening and invaded my nightmares with trauma memories, and the world around me was equally as dark even on sunny days. As I sit here now, sunny days feel foreign and I wish for them to be covered in clouds.

I've slowly, but hesitantly, been creeping toward acceptance. I am becoming tired and broken down from this lifelong journey, and when everything came flooding back again a few months ago, I realized the scope of my traumas is so horribly big. The hell that my life has been is hard to believe, and I'm aware of that. There's just so much that I can't possibly sort through all of it in this lifetime, nor understand it.

I have a burning need to try. I have a persistent existential OCD now that brings out my inner old and melancholic philosopher from romantic ages gone past, and he spends hours and days writing about and researching what comes after this life, what's out there in space, and what it ultimately all means. My spirit guide Darokin has given me a lot of guidance on this, and it just sates my curiosity.

I believe very much that there are other worlds outside of the scope of our reality that few can peer into. Maybe my mental illnesses provide a pathway there, although I have to keep the grounding idea that it's still a question, not a definite fact. There's just so much outside of this reality, and so much about how we may perceive this reality in an untrue way, that I'm never bored or without something to think or write about.

The stages of grief have led me here, although I've had an interest in spirituality and after-death scenarios for most of my life. Even as a child, I questioned why I had an experience where a Biblical figure visited me in the darkness of my bedroom, and I wasn't comforted. I was terrified. A figure who most would view as kind and benevolent made me want to run away and scream. Maybe that's why the angels never answered me as a young teenager. It wasn't where I belonged, and that's why I didn't feel Jesus' warmth.

I know that now, and after my lack of a Christian awakening as a teen and the abuse that the church excused, while calling me the sinner when I was the victim, I turned to Satanism and haven't looked back since.

I've taken a philosophical approach over the years to my spirituality, and maybe that, too, has fed into my existential interests. The stages of grief for my worsening mental health and my physical health's decline, as well as for the past I was robbed of that led to a few suicide attempts, has all made me question this life, how it's perceived, and if there's anywhere else I can escape to that isn't here.

My first real romantic relationship shattered my sense of self and security. My parents were not always the loving and supportive parents I see others have on holidays, and I mourn for the fact that I was verbally abused and torn down constantly by people I should have been able to trust over anyone else. All of my firsts were painful, dangerous, and scary. Even my birth almost ended in being a stillborn.

I have many reasons to grieve, and many may say it's a pointless thing to do because it just keeps me down instead of moving me forward, but what do we tell others who experience the death of a loved one? Take time to grieve, take care of yourself, and be easy on yourself for a while. Imagine someone having experienced the death of several loved ones repeatedly over and over for several years, and you begin to wonder how someone could cope. You'd be in a constant state of trying to sort through grief.

Trauma is similar, I think. Every time my innocence was taken, and every time I was abused, a part of me died. I had to mourn who that person would have been. Every time the light in me dimmed, and eventually there was nothing left but a slight glow that barely reached the darkest corners of me.

One of the headspaces I have, that one of my head family dwells in, is the attic library. There are many bookshelves and cobwebs over everything, and some candles to light the way. If you look behind the lace curtains on the windows, you see nothing but a black void.

The bookshelves contain numerous books in varying states of condition, and they all contain memories. My alter Vexis likes to stay there, and they made it their home permanently after they split from me. Arguably, it has always been their home, but I was never aware of them until I'd become an adult.

The other location in our headspace is a small world that consists of a very large house with enough rooms to fit many of us, and there are other houses in the area for others. There is a book shop Tetsu, my elf alter, likes to hang out at and just read for hours. There is a funeral home where Phocas (aka; Grim) and Genevieve live together, as he's a mortician and she is his life partner and mentee. There's a graveyard where the twins live, and I think one of the undeads, Gip, took up residence there. He's not really much for conversation or being around others. He can only speak in rhyme and is a medieval jester, so that tells you all you need to know about him. The twins are just spirits who are attached at the hip, often romantically.

All of this has evolved over time, and I've met each of them throughout my journey. This is the most I've shared about it, and there are some alters and headmates I spoke of here I've never spoken of before. They've all been along for the ride, and they've got their own stories I've written to cope with the many years of trauma.

I often escaped into the larger headspace with everyone to be somewhere safe. I wrote down a lot of our adventures because it was the easiest way to explore, but we also existed solely in the headspace sometimes, and some of those memories may be lost to time.

Now, I spend most of my time in what we perceive as reality, and in Vexis' world. Their specific headspace is nightmarish and absent of life, but it has become comforting and familiar because they understand my traumas. They were there for all of it, and they caused some of my suffering we've since reconciled.

The others are there for me to help bring me back around. Byleth, Lestan, and Darokin are around all the time, and Cal, my cheery and childlike undead alter, is the one who switches with me the most when I need to survive a difficult moment.

The stages of grief are deeply intertwined in our inner worlds, so I can't talk about dealing with the stages of grief of my declining mental health without mentioning all of it.

Lestan, Byleth, Darokin, and Vexis all occupy reality with me here, too. I've never been without them, and they are attempting to help me get through these stages of grief I feel may never truly end. I'm isolated by choice, although I am afraid of COVID-19 and that's also a factor in my decision, and I have become stagnant. I barely take care of myself, and I spend my days waiting for the end to come because I don't have much to live for anymore. I feel my lifelong dreams are no longer possible because I am disabled, and I do not have equal rights. My security is shaky.

I have reached acceptance of these things, but it hasn't resulted in anything positive. Time can't pass quickly enough, and I worry I'm becoming more pessimistic and blunt in ways that are undesirable. I don't have a romantic partner because I can't find one, and I don't have anyone who could take care of me if I needed it.

I just try to find peace here with my head family while we ride this out together, and I hope I have the strength to not end this reality sooner than necessary.