Cherry: Grief and Depression

We enjoyed each other’s company.

I loved my brother with all my heart. We were so close and did so many things together. We did not exactly like the same things, but we enjoyed each other’s company. Inseparable does not even begin to describe our relationship.

He still had a smile on his face.

My brother got sick, but we were hopeful that he would get well soon, considering he was in the hospital getting the necessary medical attention. Unfortunately, he worsened daily, and the doctors could not clearly state why. Despite all this, he still had a smile on his face. He was strong, and I knew he could beat this situation, and life would go back to normal.

My greatest loss

One afternoon, we got the terrible news that my brother was no more. As the doctor explained how he got a fever and shared other medical information with the rest of my family, I froze, crying silently. My heart broke. In the evening, we were home, surrounded by friends and family who had come to offer their condolences. Funeral arrangements were made, and my brother was laid to rest a few days later. That is easily the most challenging day of my life. After the burial, all I wanted to do was stay in my room, windows and curtains closed. I did not want to see or speak to anyone, not even my parents. I barely ate, showered, and spent most of my days and nights sleeping or just lying in bed. Initially, my behaviour was normal because I was grieving, but this went on for weeks and months.

Depression? No way!

After two months of staying in bed, my parents got concerned and decided to get me some help. They accompanied me to see a therapist who did an assessment and informed me that I had clinical depression based on my behaviour after my brother died. I quickly denied this and said I did not have depression. Depression? How? I was just sad and grieving my brother. I stormed out and waited for my parents outside. I was angry at them for bringing me to see a therapist. It’s like they were saying I was crazy.

Friendship

We returned home, and I continued to spend time in my room. My parents had talked to one of my closest friends, who now came to see me daily. We had been texting, but her presence made me feel better. We talked about my brother, and I always asked my friend why he died. She did not have much to say sometimes, but she was there, lying with me in bed, telling me jokes and reminding me of the good times.

Therapy- Not so crazy

With time, I started taking showers regularly, I ate better because of my friend’s company and later, my parents brought about the idea of a therapist again, and this time, I agreed to give it a shot. We scheduled a session, and honestly, after the first session, I felt a bit better. It was nice to talk about how bad I felt and to admit that I was sad, angry and lonely now that my brother was gone. My therapist told me that all these feelings are normal to experience after a loss and that she would help me work through them so I can go back to leading a happy and healthy life. I no longer felt that therapy was for “crazy” people.

Life went back to normal.

I agreed to have another session with her, and with time, I felt a lot better, and life went back to normal. I love(d) my brother, but I had to accept that he was gone. I still have the memories we created and choose to think about the good times. It was not easy to get here, but I did it thanks to my family, friends and therapist. My message to everyone is that dealing with grief is hard, and sometimes you feel sad, but accepting love and support from people around you makes things easier.