Some people grieve in different ways. Some go to counselling, or some do things in memory of their loved one. I chose to do neither. When my twin sister passed away on August 24, 2012, I chose to act like it didn’t happen, because it was easier than dealing with the fact that she would never be coming home. When I got the call that something had happened to her, I collapsed to the ground and I couldn’t breathe. I felt like everything that I have ever known, the other half of who I am was completely ripped from me. I was living in Ontario at the time of the accident and had to take a bus back to New Brunswick. I was so numb and confused. I didn’t know if I should cry or scream or just act like it was a joke and act like it didn’t happen, so I didn’t say anything. While spiralling into a deep depression, I didn’t talk to anyone for six months. I used to sleep during the day while everyone was awake so I didn’t have to talk to anyone. Then I would stay up all night listening to music and looking at pictures of Ashley; anything I could do to pretend she was still here. Later on not too long after that people started to get worried because I was not myself. Once it started to sink in she wasn’t coming home and I started to feel emotional again I started finding ways to numb my emotions. Anything to act like she didn’t exist, because it was always easier acting like I didn’t have a twin because it hurt less. Not realizing how bad things were getting out of control, I had a rude awakening one night and was rushed to the hospital. Once I snapped out of my addictions and stupid decisions, I finally realized I needed to get my life together and stop feeling sorry for myself and waiting for her to come home. Until now I have tried to act like she didn’t exist and that I did not have a twin sister. I started taking down her pictures and hiding them. When people would ask me if I have a twin sister I would tell them no. Acting like she never existed seems to be much easier than dealing with the fact that I’ll never be the same again. There was one point when I tried to go to counselling, but while she was talking and trying to get me to remember things I found myself crying and hyperventilating, so I decided I did not want to do that anymore and I never went back. It brought up too many feelings and memories that I was not ready to remember. I still do not want to think about her, but it’s the only way I can be as happy as I can be. I owe it to my daughter because she does not deserve to see her mother cry. She should be able to ask about her aunt and not see me hurt over it. I realize now I need get over it and let it go. I think this may be the first step to starting over without her.