I am in grief. It feels doubly so. For this death…its violence, leaves the heart screaming…It shouldn’t have been this way.

And now I sit barely able to breathe as I ponder the roads ahead. Terrified to numbness, at how the potentials may play out.

Choices his dear ones may make…with their minds overcome by loss. Their hearts overwhelmed by grief, their bodies demanding fight or flight.

When there is no fighting or fleeing from this one. You can’t escape the pain.

But oh have I seen choices, made in moments of pain that weld the jail shut…sometimes forever…against harmony ever again being able to reign. 

 It may seem strange to write at this time. Yet the very purpose of my writing is to share what I’ve learnt, or am learning along the way about that which leads to a harmonious life and that which leads to pain.

And this I know of grief.

It is a terrifying pain.

Yet it must be felt. 

But there is a part of the brain that sees a threat to our emotional homeostasis and wants to make it better again. So it tries to distract us with thoughts of anger, of revenge, of guilt, of bitterness. Of how it isn’t fair, how it shouldn’t have happened.

And it will distract your grief if you let it. But please oh please don’t let it. 

For grief in all its agony can only be cried, but anger can trick you into thinking you’re avoiding such pain. But you are not. Instead you are compounding it in so many different ways. It can go on for a lifetime….and sadly, so often does.

And this I know with absolute certainty.

Grief unexpressed is the most poisonous emotional puss that can live in a human. So please don’t run or hit or twist within.

Only our tears, our sobs, our cries can release that grief. It will wash over and over, dump you, overwhelm you, crash down upon you and seem to be forever.

But eventually the tide will change.

8 thoughts on “Grief

  1. I’m sorry for your loss Leesa. Only old people have ever left me, and I con’t know how this would feel… I hope I won’t for many years yet. I wish there was something I could do, but I know I can’t. All I’ll say is, well, someone out there is sincerely sad for you. I know what you are talking about all those feelings, I know them, but like you said, you’ve GOT to let the tears out, alone or in company, in therapy or out of it, anywhere, anytime, maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but when you’re ready, when the self is strong enough to stand against the deluge, they have to come, or else there’s no healing, none whatsoever, not even the tinsiest bit… it might seem like letting go, but it isn’t. I actually feel kinda guilty even replying to your post, so well, take care of yourself, and follow your own advice, which as we all know is the hardest thing to do in the universe. For what it’s worth, you can talk to me anytime.

  2. Leesa, t I’m so sorry. I can share with you that you have caught onto the most important part of grief – letting it out, in tears. A real “full-moon cry,” as I have come to call it, is the healthiest thing you can do for yourself.

    And believe me, I’m with you in thought, in prayer, and in spirit.

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