Stages of Grief...as I am living them

I have always known that there are many stages of grief.
I have even lived them out before.
But now I am understanding them on a whole new level. And I feel much better prepared to help others through it. (not yet...but someday)
The first level of grief I experienced was shock. I went completely numb. Something inside of me died. I did not eat. I could not think. I would get lost. I could not concentrate.
At that time, I needed people to talk to me. To tell me stories. To make me laugh. To be with me and help me remember to eat. (or at least to feed those around me since I was not eating) I could not answer many questions. I was numb.
The second stage of grief was the questioning stage. I had a million questions to which there were no answers. I needed to ask them -sometimes over and over again. I needed people to listen to me. To just listen without answers. And to tell me that they were sorry. That meant a lot. I had a lot of people just ignoring me or looking the other way because they did not know what to say. I clung to the few who would listen. In my life there were only 3. I was lucky I had them.
Then there was the stage where I needed to go back out into the real world. After hiding for months, I suddenly had to see people (some of who did not know what had happened) and face the stares and comments and questions. Face the pity. The pity is the hardest to deal with. For some reason there is shame in pity. And the need to reassure people I will be okay. (which is not my job but I feel the need to do it anyway). In that time I needed those who would walk with me. I could not go anywhere alone, I needed a buddy. And I needed someone who would understand if I needed to leave suddenly, or hide in the bathroom for a while.
Once that stage was over I think everyone thought I was finally okay. I had faced the world. I had gone through some of the firsts that happen. I was able to talk and process and find hope and laugh again.
But there is another stage. This stage is the one in which I need people to ask me questions. I need lots of questions that help me feel. Because for so long it was just too much feeling. I cried for so long that I could not wear my contacts anymore and my eyes constantly stung. Breathing in hurt. I allowed myself to feel and did not stuff my feelings. I got angry and mad and sad. But now there is more in there that I don't know about. Feelings that need a voice but I can't tap into them by myself. I need questions beyond, "How are you?" And I need answers beyond, "I am sorry".
And I need encouragement. Beyond "I am praying for you" and "It will be okay" and "you are doing so well". I need scripture to cling to. I need words of truth. I need attention. I need invitations. I need phone calls and emails and letters. Especially at Christmas when everyone else has family and my kids go to their fathers and I am all alone in a silent house.
And I am sure I need so much more that I don't even know about. Because although God is here and He is real. I need someone to remind me to go to Him. It is too easy to stumble through each day getting my million things done and not lean on Him. It is too easy to forget how to lean on him when my ex does something that hurts so much I can not breathe. It is too easy to listen to his voice instead of God's.
And people ask me what I need and I don't know what to tell them. Because you can't just tell someone to do those things for you. They kind of just have to. It can't be forced. I can't make someone want to give me time and attention and space to be.
I wonder what the next stage of grief will be.
And I wonder when the healing is complete.
Because I feel the healing. And days like today (which was a relatively good day), I know I will be alright someday.
I just wish it would hurry along a little.