Your Guide to Going Through All the Stages of Grief in Two Days

Can’t take more than two days off work? Still want to stay in alignment with this modern world’s obsession with healing, growth, and emotional maturity? This guide is for you.

1. Go with the flow.

Listen to yourself in the moment. You’ll be surprised.

I was pretty sure I’d fight. If you asked me two minutes before the monologue I launched into, you'd find me mentally clinging to this. But two minutes later? A surge of unprecedented serenity. And I let go.

2. Ritualize your meltdown.

a. Go home. Shower. Pray. Remind yourself of your nothingness in the grand scheme of things.

“I don’t know. But You do. So, alhamdulilah—even though I don’t know or understand.”

b. Put on your comfiest clothes. Choose the filthy habit you’ll drown your sadness in. Then get back to work, because we cannot help but Sisyphus our way through this life.

3. Be honest. Be open. Be a little unhinged.

Sprinkle vulnerability with sarcasm (because is it even worth it if you're not making fun of it?):

"So sorry I missed your call - I was in the middle of a breakup"
"Oh no I could not break the safe today, my heart was getting broken" 
"His car is still here. Wanna practice your egg-throwing skills?"
"Did you see my new sweatshirt collection? A win is a win." 

4. Sleep.

Seriously, just sleep. You’ll wake up heavy, but you know that heaviness. You get anxious almost every day. So, man up!

5. Now that you’re awake and heavy—keep moving.

Throw it in the nearest bin. Keep moving. Always keep moving.

a. Escape the feel. Trust you’ve made the right decision. Escape the feel again.

b. After enough Forrest Gumping, you’ll hit a wall: yourself.
Notice it. Don’t fight. Just see it. Then sleep again.

6. Now that you’re awake and heavy—feel the feel.

a. Wake up. Surprise! Heaviness, again. Even heavier.
Of course. What did you expect? You’ve earned this. You’re living. Be proud.

b. Sit with it—the now and the near past.
Revisit how you flowed in that first moment.
Remember that hour of serenity, courage, and wisdom that still surprises you.

“I’m going through my grief. You’re going through yours. This small town flows, and I flow, and I send you love and light—because I can.”

7. Analyze. Brutally.

Get analytical. No feelings, no poetry—just brain.
What happened? Who happened? How?
What’s the closest thing to the answer? Try to understand your space in all this.

8. Now that you understand, feel again.

Now things are clearer. The weight is lighter. Understanding has landed.
Now—finally—it’s time to feel the feel.

Play your songs. Remember. Ask yourself seven whys.
And yes, you had hope. But who are you to dictate life? (Nothingness, remember?)

Feel. Cry. And marvel at life.

In Conclusion (but not really):

Grief doesn’t follow a clean timeline, but capitalism does.
So if you’ve only got 48 hours to break down and rebuild—this might do the trick.
And if not? Well. At least you have the sweatshirt collection.

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