Three panic attacks and a letter that should have been shredded

Grief is awful. Brett’s passing has affected me more negatively than anything in recent personal history. Not even my big breakup four years ago has caused me so many sleepless nights, crazy nightmares, crying spells, and panic attacks. My symptoms of depression have returned and my behavior and thinking is reflecting that. Almost everyone has been understanding and supportive.

I know I wasn’t fully recovered on May 9th but I had greatly improved. I was happy and confident. I was getting back in touch with myself. The hours of writing and using cognitive behavioral therapy exercises had changed my thinking. I know I made progress because I can read through the charts, graphs and notes and I can see the positive changes. I know I can work towards healthy thinking and behavior again.

I make mistakes. I do things that are irrational, frustrating, and concerning. I’m not perfect. I take responsibility for the poor choices I have made in the past two weeks. But I also recognize that I have experienced a heartbreaking loss.

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