Everyone tells me that I need to journal and journaling is basically free content so I figured -after additional encouragement from my friends- I’d put it on the blog and you can see the workings of my inner mind. At your own risk. With that being said, I’ve recognized that the majority of my published writing has been on grief and my journey with it. At first, thinking about posting this felt weird like come on people cannot possibly still care about how you grieve but ya know, it’s a fucking journey; It’s not meant to be a one blog thing.
The last couple of days have been rough for me. I can only eat enough to be able to take my anxiety meds without throwing up. There are tears pressed up, hot, against my eyes almost all day, my throat burns and talking without constant constriction and the threat of choking up is virtually impossible. My legs feel heavy, my mind is clouded with exhaustion and there is a constant whirring of intruding thoughts buzzing around my head.
- So today I forced myself to eat breakfast. I didn’t start my coffee until my water was gone. I bought lunch and carried it around with me until my brain zaps from medication withdrawal started and I knew I needed to eat.
- Today I finished another chapter of real estate school and completed my month end tasks at work.
- Today I spent time appreciating the friends who have always been there for me, whether or not I’ve been there for them.
- Today I am going to take my dog on a walk and push myself in the gym.
- Today I am going to eat dinner, see friends and shut the refrigerator door on the corona sitting there.
- Today I’m going to prioritize my body’s needs as best as I can while working on my long-ignored lack of impulse control.
Today I am going to understand that grief is a constant battle and more often than not you don’t realize that grieving is all encompassing. I grieve for the loss of someone I loved and while that kind of grief exists on a spectrum I truly feel when I grieve for one loss I grieve for them all. I can’t separate the sadness I feel now from the sadness I’ve felt after every shitty thing that has happened in my life. So the grief seems so big for something so seemingly small because it is. It is an amalgamation of every dark thought and heart wrenching emotion I’ve ever had, crashing down at once, triggered by yet another meeting with sadness. It is smothering and heavy. But now I think that I’ve carried all this grief with me for so long because it’s easier to package it up and put it on your back so that everyone looks at you and says “she’s so strong,” “I don’t know how she does it,” because THAT kind of affirmation feels so much better than the pity that comes with mourning something openly. Had I carefully unwrapped each grief package that I came upon in my life, had I explored its contents and truly let it sit with me I wouldn’t have a backpack full of grief and a devastatingly self-destructive time bomb ticking in the background of everything I do.
So today I am going to let myself be embarrassed by my inability to keep my shit together because that means that I haven’t added to my backpack of grieving. It means I am holding it in my hands so that I can see it and know it and figure out how to let it go. And sometimes that means other people will see it too. And they might look at you and tell you that they’re thinking about you or maybe time heals all and definitely you’ll be okay! And this time you won’t be the strong one that people look to when they’re trying to figure out their own grief and maybe that’s important so that they can hold their grief in their hands too and not feel the need to silently shoulder it just for it to arrive someday, heavier and stronger and louder than when they packed it away.
We don’t do grief well in this country. And we have much to grieve, especially in these last few years. Thank you for writing this. I’m thinking about you. ❤️
Deborah is right, we don’t do grief well. But it is a process and it tends to unfold slowly and give you as much as you can handle, then slink away for another day. I like your list of things you’ve done, lists are incredibly helpful to me. It’s hard to remember to do that when you are in the midst of it. Keep doing that if you can. And thanks for sharing this—its helpful to you, but helpful to others too, to read it. Thanks.