Writers 
Now there’s silence.
Silence everywhere I go.
Even in my head, I don’t think anymore. I can’t feel anymore. I’ve stopped crying. I’ve stopped hoping. I’ve stopped praying.
Now, I feel empty.
I want to be alone, surrounded by the memories of you. I don’t speak anymore. I’ve grown to love the quiet and the darkness, especially the silence that crowds me.
It follows me everywhere I go.
To the bathroom, to work, to the kitchen. Everywhere.
I have the ability to cut everything off and just sit with my thoughts. Sometimes, I sit for hours doing nothing, thinking about you, remembering things I wish I could forget.
I lost the ability to feel. I lost the ability to care. I even lost the desire to eat.
Everything feels pointless now.
I looked into the mirror this morning, and I looked different.
The spark was no longer there.
I looked like a mess, but somehow, I still smiled and laughed. I still answered when people spoke to me. I still pretended that I was fine, even when I knew I wasn’t.
The mood swings never seem to end.
Sometimes, I feel nothing at all. Then, without warning, a memory of you comes back, and suddenly, I feel everything. The pain, the sadness, the emptiness.
Then it all goes quiet again.
I don’t know when I became this person.
I don’t know when I stopped caring about the things I used to care about. I don’t know when being alone became easier than being around people.
I know that I am tired.
Tired of remembering.
Tired of missing you.
Tired of pretending that I am okay.
And perhaps the worst part is that I don’t even have the strength to ask for you back anymore.
I’ve spent so much time wishing you would return that I’ve finally become too tired to wish.
This is what depression can feel like in grief. It is not always crying or sadness. Sometimes, it is silence, numbness, loneliness, exhaustion, and losing interest in the things that once mattered.
After bargaining, there may be a painful realization that wishing, praying, or imagining different outcomes cannot change what happened. The person may stop asking “what if?” and begin to feel the weight of the loss.
Depression can make ordinary things feel difficult. Eating, talking, working, or getting out of bed may no longer feel important. Someone may withdraw from others and prefer to sit alone with their memories.
But grief can also be hidden behind smiles and laughter. A person can look fine, answer questions, go to work, and still be hurting inside.
The silence in this stage is not necessarily peace. Sometimes, it is exhaustion from carrying the pain for too long.
It can feel as though the person has lost a part of themselves along with the person they lost.
Still, depression is not the end of the grieving process. It is one stage of it. The feelings can change, even when they seem permanent.
