Grieving is a deeply personal journey, and though the stages of grief are often discussed, they’re rarely experienced in a neat, linear order. The five main stages—denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance—can take years to work through. Here’s how they unfolded for me after my father’s death.
1. Denial
When my father died, I was numb. I went to the funeral, but it felt like a strange, surreal experience, as though I was watching it all unfold from the outside. I was unaware of the true impact of his passing, stuck in a fog of disbelief. In this state, emotions were muted, as if my mind was shielding me from the overwhelming pain that would eventually follow.
2. Anger
Anger was an inevitable stage for me, but not just at the loss of my father. My family cut me off entirely, depriving me of the inheritance that should have been mine, leaving me stranded in poverty. The betrayal stung; it felt like being cast aside, like Joseph sold into slavery by his own brothers. This anger was all-consuming and deep, a heavy bitterness that lingered and seeped into my bones.
3. Bargaining
Desperate to find some way to survive, I reached out to family members, asking for shelter, or at least some help with business expenses. But instead of support, I found myself tangled in legal webs, dealing with lawyers and paperwork that went nowhere. My family offered me nothing but obstacles and obstacles. Bargaining with them felt futile, yet I kept trying, clinging to some hope that they would finally recognize my needs.
4. Depression
Realizing that my family would rather hurt than help me was a painful blow. There was a heaviness in understanding that I could expect nothing from them. This depression went beyond the loss of my father; it was the loss of a support network, of people who were supposed to care for me but chose otherwise. I felt abandoned, alone, and at times, helpless in the face of such indifference.
5. Acceptance
Ten years have passed since my father’s death. With time, I’ve come to understand that my family won’t change. There’s no turning back or finding reconciliation in the way I once hoped. Acceptance doesn’t mean the hurt disappears; rather, it’s a surrender to reality. I’ve set new goals, aiming to detach from the family that has caused me so much pain and focusing instead on succeeding in my art business. As so many people have suggested, it’s time to pursue my passion and create a future on my own terms.
Processing death—and all the complexities that come with it—can be excruciatingly slow. I know my father never meant for me to go through this, and I recognize now that my family has always been toxic. Today, I’m choosing to move forward. The loss will always be a part of me, but it no longer defines me. After all these years, I’m finally ready to leave this chapter behind as much as I can.
Moving forward, piece by piece.
by Dan and Bonkers
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