Because if you stop walking this road, you don’t just pause — you disappear. Perseverance is not a luxury in mourning. It’s a requirement for survival.
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Opening Reflection: The Endless Night
Three weeks after Angé died, I lay on the couch, motionless. Not crying. Not sleeping. Just… still.
My phone buzzed twice — messages from friends checking in. I didn’t reply. I couldn’t. The idea of replying felt like trying to lift a car with one hand.
Everything inside me wanted to give up. Not in the dramatic sense of giving up on life — just giving up in life. On breakfast. On brushing my teeth. On effort.
I was tired of being tired. Tired of being brave. Tired of being alone.
But eventually, I got up. Slowly. I showered. I opened the curtains. I made toast. And I sat in the sun.
That was perseverance — not some epic act of triumph. Just the quiet, stubborn decision to keep going when everything in you wants to stop.
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1. Perseverance Is a Decision, Not an Accident
Some people think perseverance is something you either have or you don’t — like eye colour or height. But in grief, perseverance is not genetic. It’s not luck. It’s not fate.
It’s a decision.
A decision you will make again and again — sometimes several times in the same day.
You choose to get up.
You choose to eat.
You choose to answer a message.
You choose to walk out the door.
Every choice is an act of will. Every choice is a refusal to stop walking this road.
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2. Perseverance Is Strength of Character and Mind
In mourning, perseverance is not just about “being strong” in some vague, inspirational way. It’s the strength of character to show up for yourself when no one else is watching, and the strength of mind to keep making decisions that pull you forward instead of letting you sink.
Perseverance is also a muscle.
It grows with use.
It atrophies with neglect.
Every small action — even brushing your teeth when you don’t feel like it — is a repetition that strengthens your endurance.
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3. Grief Isn’t a Sprint — It’s a Relentless, Uneven Marathon
There’ is a starting gun, but no marked course. No medal waiting at the finish line.
Some days you’ll walk with energy. Some days you’ll crawl. Some days you’ll just stand still.
Perseverance is understanding that progress in grief is not measured by speed. It’s measured by the fact that you have not stopped.
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4. The “Phone-a-Friend” Rule — Building Your Safety Nets
There will be days when your decision to persevere feels too fragile to stand on its own. That’s when you need systems in place.
Here’s what helps:
• Pick two or three people who know the depth of your grief and ask them to check in regularly.
• Give them permission to push you when you retreat too far.
• Set visual triggers — a note on the fridge, a reminder on your mirror, a phone alarm with your own recorded voice saying, Keep going — stopping is not an option.
• Use a “phone-a-friend” moment whenever you notice you’ve been silent or withdrawn for too long. Make the call, even if all you say is, “I’m here.”
These aren’t signs of weakness. They’re acts of strategy. They keep you from quietly slipping into a life where nothing matters.
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5. Perseverance Is the Opposite of Depression
Depression whispers, “Why bother?”
Perseverance answers, “Because my life still matters.”
Perseverance doesn’t mean pretending you’re okay. It means refusing to surrender to the pull of nothingness.
Every time you move — even in the smallest way — you are choosing connection over withdrawal, hope over silence, and life over disappearance.
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6. Getting Up Again — The Quiet Strength of Repeat Effort
Grief exhaustion isn’t only in the heart — it’s in the body. You feel heavy. Sluggish. Weighed down.
And yet:
• You pour a glass of water.
• You take a walk to the corner.
• You fold the laundry.
• You text a friend.
None of it will make headlines. But each act is a small muscle movement in your daily strength training.
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7. Setbacks Will Come — And You Will Survive Them
You’ll think you’re doing better — and then a date, a song, or a scent will rip you open again.
That’s not failure. That’s grief being grief.
Perseverance means you don’t shame yourself for breaking. You recognise that this is part of the loop. You let yourself fall — and then you rise again.
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8. Perseverance Is Practiced, Not Perfect
Some days you’ll nail it. Other days you’ll hide. That’s okay.
Perseverance is about showing up often enough that the practice itself becomes a habit. Like any habit, the more you use it, the stronger it gets.
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9. Perseverance as a Daily Act of Remodeling
Every act of perseverance lays a brick in the life you’re building now:
• Eating a meal? Brick.
• Creating a new ritual? Brick.
• Speaking their name out loud? Brick.
Over time, these bricks form the foundation of a life that still contains joy, colour, and purpose — even with grief as a permanent resident.
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Closing: Choosing Again, Every Day
This road is the hardest you’ll ever walk. But stopping is not an option. If you stop, the part of you that still wants to live will wither.
Perseverance is your survival. It’s your strength of character and mind. It’s the decision you make — today, tomorrow, and for as long as you breathe — to keep walking.
Because of Angé, I know perseverance is not heroism. It’s not a burst of courage. It’s the steady, stubborn, unshakable choice to keep moving forward — with sorrow, with hope, and with love.
Because of Angé, I
Perservere
