Loss taught you that life is precious and fragile, giving you a deep appreciation for every moment and an ability to truly understand others who are grieving 💙. Your experience with loss makes you incredibly compassionate and present during others' difficult times. But surviving when someone you loved didn't has left you carrying an impossible weight: the guilt of staying alive when they're not 💔. Having experienced `survivor's guilt`, you've made yourself smaller, dimming your light because shining feels disrespectful to someone who can't shine anymore ✨➡️🔅. You punish yourself through self-destructive choices, as if suffering proves you deserve to be here when they don't. You've turned your life into a memorial, refusing to let yourself live fully because joy feels like evidence that you've forgotten them—afraid that your happiness would mean their death didn't matter enough 🏛️. The cruel irony is that the person you lost *would likely want you to live fully, not suffer endlessly in their honor*. Your survival isn't something to apologize for—you honor them by living the life the way they'd want you to.

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