I’m going to be honest, y’all—I get triggered sometimes. I think part of it is that I used to be so incredibly naïve. I used to believe all you needed was a positive attitude, and things would just—work out.
And then one day things didn’t.
It’s hard to think about this sometimes. It’s hard to think about how innocent the Miranda of the Before used to be. It’s hard to think about the moment when she died, and I didn’t; when we became two distinct personalities.
Related: Write Your Grief: The Second Death
I’ve written about this before. (Well, you know me; I’ve written about pretty much everything.) But I think the thing that really gets me is how I mostly don’t miss the person I used to be. I grieve for her, but that’s not the same.
Looking back, most days, I just feel sadness and empathy…and a decent amount of anger. Because positivity is still being pushed as this mindless cure to what isn’t a disease.
I get triggered, y’all, because I’m tired of this madness. I’m tired of the world-changing effect it had on me. I’m tired of the BS “find the light” butterflies and false happiness that gets spouted by people who have no idea.
I’m tired, and I’m hurting. And I wonder how many other people, just as innocent as I used to be, are going to be hurt next? Even one is one too many.