I Swear You Will Be Fine

Dear Josh,

You must have seen the events that unfolded last night after I came home from spending the day with your family. This happens frequently – I come home after spending time with your family and one small interaction with my family ruins my mood, or sometimes my whole day. I was telling Lynn that it’s like being around emotionally mature people and coming home to emotionally immature people. I’m always saddened by what could be and what is.

I hate it, but my family and I are travelling at the end of this year. I was conflicted about whether I wanted to travel or not. Obviously, I was not in the mood to go. But if we didn’t go, I’d wonder why we had to go last year, you know? Like if an annual family trip was not mandatory, why did we go last year? If it was not mandatory, we could have stayed. I could have celebrated Christmas with you. You could still be here. Maybe. At least that’s what I think. We all think it’s our fault, one way or another. Anyway, it’s not my decision, and it’s not a democratic world, so we’re going to Switzerland and Italy. Normally, I’d be excited to go someplace new (though I wasn’t excited to leave you last year), but I think travelling is kind of a trigger for me now. Planning for the trip is a huge trigger for a variety of reasons. Nearing the end of the year is a trigger too. This letter is going to be messy, by the way. My thoughts are all over now that the year is coming to an end. Good days are bad, bad days are worse. I think I am still living in denial.

Last night was bad. My helper broke something of mine and my mother blamed me even though it wasn’t my fault. I tried to ask my family if we should book things for the trip, because we only have our flights booked, and they didn’t respond well. I hated asking too. I hate asking. It makes them think I’m excited to go when I’ve repeatedly stressed that I’m not. I’ve repeatedly said I don’t want to go. “So, don’t ask them, just leave it. Don’t book anything and they’ll learn their lesson.” Actually, they won’t. If I don’t push them, we all suffer the consequences but I’ll get the brunt of it. We will end up booking extra late – we, as in, me – and I’ll be stressed at the amount of money we’re unnecessarily spending. Everyone will be in a foul mood (which I will also take the brunt of), and my life will be extra difficult. That’s why I’m pushing to book things – to selfishly make my life easier. If you were on Earth I’d call you and rant and you’d somehow lift my mood and I’d let it all go. So, what if we don’t book anything? So, what if we pay more? But you’re not on Earth, and nothing is just a “so, what?”

In the end, I relented. I sucked up my sadness, sat with my dad and brother, and mapped out our trip. They still think I’m excited. They still don’t know I’ve been triggered by the thought of having to plan a trip nine months after my boyfriend passed. Sometimes I seriously wonder if they forgot that I lost my boyfriend to suicide on our previous trip. Did they forget that I’m still grieving? Maybe I should win an Oscar for acting okay all the time.

There are so many triggers with planning this trip. The thought that I was doing this one year ago and ranting to you. The mere thought of the trip. Of spending more than two weeks with my family. The fact that I requested to come back by the 31^st, my dad ending the trip on the 29^th, then saying, “Good, right? We’ll be back by the 31^st.” Like, yes, father. Fantastic that I get to come back in time for my boyfriend’s death anniversary. Thank goodness you agreed to my very simple request. Oh, I could cuss right now.

My mood has been so unstable lately too. Sorry again, the letter is messily structured. I think it best describes my headspace right now. I’ve been tearing up or crying a lot more. I’ve been getting frustrated and upset at others more. Not sure what’s going on. Maybe it’s just grief.

I do feel the need to clarify though. I am a little sorry that I write about my family quite negatively. I don’t think they are absolutely horrible, I just think it would be nice if they were nicer. Not a big ask, is it? Today’s letter is also not at all well-written, I’m sorry. I do think it describes my state of mind quite well, so I decided to leave it as it is.

I wish I could say “so, what” to all these things. I wish I could easily text you and say we’ll have a nicer family. It still, and always will, upset me that that didn’t come true.

Do forgive me, this isn’t a great letter. I’m upset that it isn’t too. But it is kind of like how this isn’t a great life. This is quite triggering to write – everything is triggering these days. Hopefully, my next few writings will be easier to read. I hope you’re doing better than I am. I don’t think I’m doing so well. I miss you very much.

I can’t wait to see you again. I love you more, always, and forever.

Love always,
Sha