Good Grief 1

This is a journal about one individual experience of grief and the daily struggle to keep going ...

It is not intended to have any purpose. It probably won't be nice. It exists purely in the void of my current experience which (for years now) has felt purposeless and meaningless. I have no idea why I am here and have no particular wish to be. I have long since felt as I though I am dead but living in some part of a Dante-like inner circle of hell, forced to co- exist amongst the living.

I am called 'Charlie Brown' because of the expression in the Peanuts cartoons 'Good grief, Charlie Brown'. Perhaps I hope for something 'good' to emerge out of what feels like endless darkness.

This first photo is of my / our bed.
Being in it can be hard, getting out of it is hard, I have cried in it, almost daily/nightly, for years. It's folds resemble the Himalayan-like mountains of effort surviving each day, each moment within each day, and the long dark sunless chasms. The distant darkness is the daily wormhole of time. Each day I disappear down it like Alice, with no 'normal' reference points and then, after what feels like a long ride on someone's gruesome idea of a theme park version of a Stygian roller coaster, I re-emerge on a stream of projectile vomit to do it all again another day.