Stage One: Denial and Isolation
I bypassed this stage. It's pretty hard to go through denial when you spend hours watching smoke pour out of your windows. There was no denying that fire.
Stage Two: Anger
This is my current stage. To be frank, I'm pissed off. I'm mad this happened to us. I'm mad that my daughter has lost all of her favorite toys... her Mickey cup... her books... I'm mad that I can't cook breakfast for my family without feeling lost. I'm just mad, and I'm lashing out.
Stage Three: Bargaining
I wouldn't say that I'm thinking, "If only we'd..." because, thankfully, the fire was of no fault of our own. However, I am constantly imagining what could have happened "if only we'd" been home when the fire erupted. Terror. Pain. It makes my heart hurt thinking about it.
Stage Four: Depression
This stage creeps in and out. My heart feels heavier than it ever has. My mind constantly races with thoughts about our home and our situation - whereas, before, I just lived in a blissful state, even mentally. I still cry sporadically. I still need to be alone sometimes. But there's also...
Stage Five: Acceptance
Yesterday, as I lay my head down on the pillow, I actually thought to myself: Today was the first day I have thought about the fire and not felt sad. Earlier in the day, Jesse and I had to go through what was left in our house to see what we may want to keep for sentimental reasons. This, I thought, would be a daunting task. Turns out, though, we didn't have much to sort through. Thankfully, and hopefully, the restoration company took almost everything to try to restore. Even what we did have, I was able to look through with a sort of practicality. One thing I've learned from all of this is to not put so much value in material things - even the sentimental things - so it was a lot easier to let things go yesterday. I do think, at times, I'm starting to accept it.
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