"I’m now left to confront what the weed enabled me to avoid for the past few years — a loss so big, it’s consuming me."

Facing your grief, starkly naked, is the only way to walk through it. When something feels so wretched I think it's human nature to want to ameliorate it.

How long it takes to make the journey is individual. Some might bite off a little piece at a time, some might dive in and sink to the depths before they are ready to swim again.

As more time passes for you, you might experience the harshness of your grief as pain subsiding. It might come back like a battering ram but if you don't dismiss it, it becomes do-able. Eventually, you can put together a plan for dealing with that.

Address it when you feel strong, those rare moments, as you can.

I promise you won't be left with a house of cards.

From my perspective, your writing may be your salvation. That and your connection to Ana (I'm sorry if I've gotten her name wrong...I'm trying to remember from other pieces of yours that I've read.)