Grief, I think I'm doing it wrong, or this only makes sense to me.

Grief. . . grief . . . grief. . . It just goes on and on, but I am feeling things that only make sense to me. I probably need to go talk to a counselor, but I don't because that would simply take too much energy, time, and money, so I will talk it out with my blog.

I worry that my grief will spill over onto others, and I don't want that to happen. I don't want my family members who are also suffering from the effects of grief to be burdened by my grief.

I worry that I don't have the right to feel as bad as feel. I mean, I am only the aunt not the mom, so I worry that by feeling this rotten at month four, I am somehow taking away from my sister's grief (she who is the mom). I know this doesn't make any sense - at all, but this is how I feel. Only in my head is grief only for mothers, and in reality I don't understand how my grief would make my sister feel badly, yet I worry that she will feel like my grief should not be this deep. I use the word deep because grief is a deep gaping hole that nothing seems to fill.

I worry that I will go over to her house and not be able to stop crying if anyone talks about my sweet niece, thus spilling my grief all over their house when maybe they were having a pretty decent day until I got there and effed it up. I put on a brave face for them, but if one of them needs to cry about it, I am more than griefy (because happy just doesn't fit here) to cry with them.

Grief would be a lot easier if I didn't care about any of these people and could dissociate from grief.

Grief - the kryptonite of DID superpowers.