A whinge about Mourning
I hate mourning. I hate hurting and feeling vulnerable and a year later still feeling like the walking dead. A hundred years ago, when you lost someone from your family, you were expected to grieve. You wore black for a year and were expected to wander around sobbing wretchedly and generally being pretty useless to society for that whole period of time. No one expected you to cope. No one expected you to function. And no one expected you to be happy. Nowadays it's different. There's no real space for grieving. You have maybe a few days off work, have a decent funeral and wake, and then basically, that's it. You go back to work, wearing the same clothes as before, and are expected to pretty much get on with it. Your close friends will probably be supportive at first, listen to you tell stories about your lost person, let you cry on their shoulder...but after a few months they begin to get sick of it. And you're left trying to function feeling like the walking