My person like that died last year and I'm still not okay.
Edit:
I appreciate the outpouring of support here.
Story time:
I grew up in an abusive household. My mother had BPD, and my sibling was the golden child. I was the scapegoat.
When things got too hot, I could just show up on my person's couch, middle of the night, and the only question ever asked was what I wanted for breakfast.
I've since moved across the country, but I ache for that sense of security again. Somewhere where I was always welcomed and never made to feel less than. Now that they've died, I fear I'll never find it again.
It's so hard to deal with, but I need help since it's been 14 months and I still cry near daily.
I've got an appointment later this week to get some professional help, because I don't think they'd appreciate the mess I've become since their passing.
Wish me luck.