Small grief vent

I lost my sensei and my dojo shut down at the end of last June… it was getting easier, but now im near the one year anniversary and its just really all hitting me again so heres a little vent about when it happened: I remember that horrible night. June 27th. its funny how some of the best and worst moments of your life, no matter how long ago they happened, remain so memorable. You cant erase the smallest details out of your mind even if you tried. I had just finished watching Tangled on facetime with a friend, it was 11 or 12. I just opened instagram to see what was up and at the top of my instagram feed… I saw a post from one of my martial arts friends. It was a picture of him and my sensei. He wrote the basic I cant believe this happened rest in peace fly high caption and my heart dropped to my feet when my eyes scanned the words. I read over it several times and commented ‘no… this isnt real. You’re joking right? ‘ hoping it truly was, some sick and twisted joke. I was in complete shock. It couldnt have been true, no way. We had just texted the other day. The second my friend saw my comment he called me on the phone… I said please tell me its not true. Say that it isnt. Tell me right now he isnt gone. He was crying. We both were crying. That night completely broke me. I then sat on the bathroom floor paralyzed in grief and shock. I threw up once or twice. I read my bible to cling to some hope, to find some answer for my racing mind. Some answer for the question ‘what even is happening right now… why… why him.’ I felt so sick that night. That night, and for months I had to facetime a friend to stay with me. I felt as though each night I was going to die. For some reason I was so scared to sleep. We set up a shrine outside the dojo the next day after he passed.
I remember walking inside the grocery store with tears streaming down my face frantically trying to find the perfect bouquet of flowers. Everything was so blurry but I knew no price could match the hole in my heart. No set of flowers no matter how expensive was good enough. You deserved the biggest shrine. You deserved so much. We got one last class. I got to take some things from the dojo that were sentimental to me. It was nice. No fix of course but im glad to have things to physically hold onto from you. I didnt train much that last class. I cried. I bawled my eyes out. We were all sitting around very upset and heartbroken. Everyone else was obviously sad but they tried to be strong and not cry. They tried to have fun training together like any other class and cherish it. I was the biggest wreck there. I was so shattered. For so long. For so many months. I cried. I was such a mess. My anxiety levels flew through the roof. I went to the doctor because months after he died my life was hell, I couldnt find peace sleeping at night. It was the worst. I felt like I couldnt breathe. My anxiety had made me into someone else. The doctor told me it seemed like I had PTSD and was like ‘yeah… therapy may be beneficial’ and doctor appointment after doctor appointment or an er visit I was told I needed therapy. My parents never listened because of course despite the horrible physical symptoms id face , as long as there was nothing physically wrong with my health its fine. Id get over it. I felt like i was always dying. That place was my home. No matter who would come into my life and who would walk away the dojo was always there. I still had a safe place where I knew I was valued and cared for. All in an instant that was ripped away from me. It sounds so selfish to say but I wish someone else had died. Not him. Of course I dont wish death on anyone but of all people right? If someone in my life had to die not him. I truly didnt realize how important that place was until I lost it. For so long martial arts was my identity. And he was probably the most loving and selfless person I knew. Even if I did not have time to come in to train he’d check in on me and see how I was doing. Why? Because he cared. He really was a second dad to me. When we taught classes together, in between we’d both eat sushi and dumplings while going over class plans. It was hard to even eat sushi or chinese food for awhile after he passed because it reminded me of him. And the thought that…! he didnt see how i got my drivers license, he isnt here to see the person im becoming, he wont be there to watch me graduate highschool next year just hurts so bad. I thought he’d always be around. And I really valued his opinion of me. I know he was important to so many people. Im not special but man. And what truly stings now is : I dont cry about it often anymore. It doesnt hurt as bad as it used to. im used to the reality that it of course is not a dream. Im numb to it. Moving on feels wrong. Every so often though i just look back and think ‘id do anything to get you back’ and I never got to say goodbye. He passed suddenly. And I hate how my mom invalidated my feelings while i was grieving. Shed see me crying and say ‘ okay how much longer are we gonna be upset over this ?’ Or ‘its not like he was your dad’ and it really hurt. Im
So mad I had told my parents I needed help. They knew how bad this hurt me and they didnt get me help. It sucks. Its so insane its already practically been a year. Anyways thats my rant on that. It really hurts to lose someone you care about.


I completely understand how you feel, believe it.


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