by Stashia Jeanette Avery

11/23/25 – 2:19am

I feel like I need to cry,

but I don’t know why.

I feel my emotions raging inside me

like a quiet storm at sea.

I feel the frustration boiling up within me,

just waiting to burst free.

These are the quiet signs of grief

laid before me

that I previously hadn’t seen.

I didn’t know grief before,

but now I’m starting to understand.

I’m processing all the pain,

trauma,

loss,

and suffering

that I hadn’t grieved beforehand.

I’m grieving the loss of a life

that I could have had,

and the girl I used to know.

I’m grieving the son I could’ve had,

but never got to see grow.

I’m grieving the body I used to have

and the energy that came with it.

I’m grieving the girl

whose pain was dismissed.

I’m grieving the normal life

that I never got to have.

I’m grieving the great relationships

that never came to pass.

I’m grieving the ability

to hold down a normal job.

I’m grieving the way I used to think

without constantly feeling brain fog.

I’m grieving no longer

being able to eat regular food.

I’m grieving the way medication

made me numb

and in a great mood.

I’m grieving the years I lost

trying to get doctors

to tell the truth.

I’m grieving the organs

and the trauma I experienced

because I didn’t have solid proof.

I’m grieving the pieces of me

that were taken

because they didn’t respect my “no.”

I’m grieving the amount of times

I’ve silently had to tell people,

“I told you so.”

I’m grieving the past versions of me

that people had called crazy.

I’m grieving the versions of me

that were fighting for their lives

while being over-medicated

made everything hazy.

I’m grieving the versions of me

that needed love

but were met with hate instead.

I’m grieving the versions of me

that were constantly told,

“It’s all in your head.”

So much has happened

that I hadn’t processed

but it begins now.

I’m honoring,

loving,

and protecting myself

from here on out

and that’s my new vow.