Go with the flow
Who's to say what steers the grief process? For the past week or so, I have been functioning quite well. On occasion, I have even had moments of gladness and optimism about the future. In my daily life, I have managed times of productivity, personability, approachability, poise, concern for others, interest in life beyond my grief, etc. I have been getting along quite well considering...and then there was today.
I have no clue why I woke up with an elephant on my chest. I don't know why I found myself gasping for air and choking on my own panic all day long. Why I didn't eat or couldn't sleep past 3:50am. This isn't a "significant" date. Nothing momentous happened on August 15th. And yet, I have been in real physical grief pain all day long.
I suppose there's not much more than that to tell. I'm tired now. Iain is screaming because in I am attenpting to reaquaint him with his own bed. My head hurts because I haven't eaten all day. And my heart hurts. Nights are always hard, but tonight is especially difficult.
posted by Tricia @ 9:42 PM
4 Comments:
I'm here, however you need me.
I have had some experience with grief in the past and have come to a conclusion. I am generally suspicious of anyone to wants to tell me how to grieve or how to “get through” my grief. Grief is remarkably personal. How you grieve may be completely different than anyone else you know. My mom grieves for my brother differently than I do. Grief is also not something to “get through”, like you get over it at some point. My brother has been dead for 8 years, but I have not “gotten over it”. I am not as sad about it as I used to be, I am not as angry as I used to be, and I am not as hopeless as I used to be. I am not, nor do I expect to ever be, done grieving. There will always be a place in my heart that is missing something.
I guess in short, grief is something that happens, not something you do. It will happen and you will deal with it as it does. I have learned a lot about myself in the process of grieving, and I expect you will as well. None of us can tell you how to grieve, but all of us are willing to talk to you, listen to you, cry with you, hold you, or help in any other way we can.
Scot
There is so much I want to say but actually I'd rather listen to you.
And now I feel like sharing what I haven't been been able to say for quite some time (I came back to this line to insert this here after the fact):
I posted here and there as a long ago friend to Dalton. It's still unreal to me that he is no longer here. I wish I had possessed the strength to visit sometime in the past year (more for me than for him).
I have no desire to capitalize on the strength of those in transit...but want you to know that you are not alone in your motley posession of grief (if that's at all helpful). I am still angry, confused, sometimes dazed, more so passively irate and at other times all out ballistic... I protect those I love from seeing and experiencing how I really feel as one left behind....
Four years and counting and I hold myself together pretty well. I smile and really feel happiness these days in a way I might not have embraced previously. For that I am thankful and also know it is something that can not be transferred or shared so casually if even at all.
It truly is personal.
You have to make a conscious decision to maintain, grow, and thrive. This is the ultimate "test" where faith is concerned and so few ever have this path to choose. Some gifts are presented in the ugliest and most vile wrapping...
I have come to acknowledge that i will always be alone with what I feel and that as hard as I might try, there is no translation...and really -- I am not alone. I learned after four years that I can share this (what I am really feeling and thinking) with others. It is actually very OK for me to be schizophrenic with grief as long as I don't give in and follow along sacrificing myself to no good end. Again, so few others ever have to choose this fork.
I can't know where you are, or what you have really experienced. I sense a beauty and meaning in your writing that has me coming back for more. I need to know you are OK. I need to know that you will live your life and not bury yourself with Jim's shell.
You have to "get up and live" Tricia; Not for Iain, but for you which will be for Iain if you do it right. And no one but you knows truly what "right" is for you and your son and the life you have yet to live.
There are no accidents. Curse me as you read this. We are all - each and evry one - bearing this incredible gift of life which means we have to acknowledge how delicate and temporary this really is.
I sense you have another story altogether to write and share.
That elephant will appear and reappear without warning...It becomes a measuring stick and might actually motivate you in ways largely inconceivable right now. It never goes away...
Each time will be different. Never easier. Different. I have personally failed its appearance on some occasions and have since decided to move fwd and try again.
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