After being bedridden with a gnarly case of the summertime sniffles, and about two weeks of a very intense Pretty Little Liars binge watch, I finally have a word for what I'm going through --
AMBIGUOUS LOSS
According to Wikipedia (who actually sometimes knows what its talking about) ambiguous loss is a loss that occurs without closure or understanding. This kind of loss leaves a person searching for answers, and thus complicates and delays the process of grieving, and often results in unresolved grief.
I'm not going to sit here behind my keyboard and tell you if this is harder or easier than loss due to a death. I've had both. Both have left me with a broken heart, unanswered questions, and a void. But what I will tell you, is that this is different. I'm still mourning the loss and allowing myself to feel the grief, but it's different.
As I've gotten older, the number of deaths I've experienced has almost evened out between family members (often of older age) and friends - people I grew up with, went to school with, and was close in age to. That's definitely one part of growing up that doesn't get talked about. But as with any death I've experienced, I was sad. Sad that I would never hear their laugh again, or see them smile, or reminisce on old times together. But with this current loss, it's different.
Thanks to social media, I may still see them smiling, and I will have to know that I didn't put that smile on their face. I will be reminded that I no longer know what's going on in their life. And just like that, a wave of grief will wash over me all over again. With a death, when you come across a picture, or a memory, or a song - you can share it and say "thinking about you, RIP, etc" but not with this. What would I say? "Oh, here's a photo of me and my ex-best friend"??? No. Because it hurts too much. It hurts to try and reconcile the years of good memories with the anger and sadness I currently feel.
I've been on social media since at least high school. So, we're talking 10+ years. Thanks to Timehop (one of my favorite social media platforms), I get a daily reminder that this person was in my daily memories for the past ten years. Every time I look at my memories on Facebook, I get hit with a gut-wrenching reminder that after years of being in my daily life, this person isn't in my life at all anymore. Only, how do you grieve such a private thing? I can't share a photo and comment on how much I miss them in my life and wish that they were still here, because they are still here... just not here, with me. And they can't be. What's happened is final. What's done is done. This is how it is now. I wish that it wasn't. I wish that we were still friends, but we aren't, can't be, and won't ever be again.
Everything is different now. And there's no manual, no rule book or guidelines. It's just me, navigating through it.
Instead of keeping it all in, I've been blogging about it. It doesn't take a genius to form a guess on who I'm talking about, but I will never name names. The very act of our friendship imploding is extremely personal and not something I will share. But I have to talk about it in some form; I'm a very social person, and sharing is how I heal.
But again, this is different than a death. I'm not surrounded by other loved ones who feel the same way and are going through the same thing. It's just me. Me, here, going through something life changing, something awful, without my best friend - who is still out there, alive and well, living her life without me in it. And despite the permanent nature of things, the loss still hurts and I won't find closure. It's messy. It's raw. It's one of the most significant things I've had to go through in my life, and sharing is helping me to process, and processing will lead to healing... I hope.
Unfortunately, there's no timeline, there's no support group, and there's no right or wrong. It's just me, doing the best that I can... I know I'm emotional, I know I'm quiet and distant, but please know - if you're in my life, I know you're here for me and I know you want to help. Like loss, help can be ambiguous - you might not have the answers, you might not know why I'm hurting, but just being here to listen (ie: read) is really all the help that I need, and I thank you for it.