In my latest counseling session, we talked a lot about my grandmother. As y'all know, she passed away just a couple months ago. You might also remember me talking about how close the two of us were.

I have to say, it's still hard. I still catch myself going to the phone to call her and then realizing I can't. When things happen or I think of something that I used to tell her about, I get down because I can't. I'm starting to believe that when I said I prepared myself for her passing, I was merely trying to convince myself that I was.

I really wasn't.

Talking about my grandmother brought our discussion to grief in general. People in my situation have to deal with death of the life they once had and embrace the life they now have. I used to be a very gregarious person. I could talk to anyone and enjoyed being social. Now, not so much. Going to social situations brings on anxiety attacks, don't want to talk to people unless I have to and I'm not real big on even leaving the house much.

My therapist asked me how I dealt with the grief of losing the life I'd known.

How did I get to the point where I knew I needed to be in therapy?

That's an easier question to answer. For a while, we blamed the majority my not being able to get out of bed on my back and the medication I was taking. Unfortunately, once we got the pain medication straightened out, we realized just how bad my depression was. To be honest, it was probably causing at least 75% of my inability to be mobile initially. Now, it's usually the reason for me staying in bed so much. That's when we knew I had to get some help. Even if it doesn't work, I needed to be in therapy.

The former question is harder to answer. I'm not sure I ever have dealt with the grief of losing my former life. I can fake it real well. I'm only easy going and more patient about things because I know I cannot afford to add any more stress into my life, but because I can deal with it better. So, that's a question I will have to really think on.