Shouldering others emotional labor

when they hear of Jeremie's suicide.

Jeremie’s ex girlfriend of many years reached out to me to ask what had happened to Jeremie because he was so young to die at 43.

I had to explain.

I felt bad for her, I did. I know it’s a shock and we can’t quite grasp that someone could be in that much anguish to end it all.

I tried to hold space for that.

But here’s the other part of that.

I then have to sit with them while they absorb the shock. Then they want to reminisce and grieve and mourn.

I get that.

But they are also making me relive it over and over again.

She then sent me a lot of pictures when they were young and it took me back to seeing that face for so many years.

And my heart broke for him.

He so looked happy in those photos.

And I weeped for him and his

And most of the time, I’m better about claiming my survivor/thriver status over a victim.

But I just had a moment of I’m going to have to continue to do this for the rest of my life.

Because I grew up in a small town community and the internet is vast and you can easily get in touch with others.

And sometimes, telling the death stories and holding space for other people’s pain is absolutely fucking exhausting.

I don’t blame her. But this has happened before. A lot.

These are the moments where I have to own that this will forever be my family’s story.

I can’t change it or bring them back.

And that plain fucking sucks.