It has been a little over a month since I lost my Aunt Nadine and there’s only one thing I can say about grief:
How’s that for eloquence and inspiration? But it’s the absolute truth. Grief is like a never ending roller coaster of brief highs intermingled with pitch black tunnels, terrifying twists, and soul-crushing dips and falls. Melodramatic? I think not. It seriously sucks.
There are good days, of course. There has even been the rare week that the good days outnumber the bad. Mostly, though, there are good moments. Minutes, perhaps hours. Then something triggers me and I find myself standing in the kitchen, clutching a bread basket to my chest and bawling like a baby. Just today I snotted all over my sweet Stephanie’s shoulder like a hurting toddler, and all she ever did was love me! Definitely not a fine moment.
I’ve gotta say, though, that I don’t know where I’d be without the support of my friends. I’ve got one who checks on me often, asks how I am and gives me encouragement; another who lets me use her couch like a psychologist’s sofa, listens and counsels and, yes, let’s me cry on her shoulder; still others who don’t ask, and when I’m with them I can get out of my own head for a while, pretend I’m not an emotional basket case. Each friend is precious to me and helps me more than they can possibly know.
Grief is suffocating.
It’s also irrational. I find myself wracked with fears and worries that I’ve never had before, and that’s not to mention the anger – that classic 3rd or 15th or 127the step in the grief process (right now the process seems kind of arbitrary). My anger has found a most unlikely and irrational target, and I struggle to keep it in check. For the most part I wish I had a hole to crawl into and hide until my heart gets put back together. Bears get to hibernate. Why can’t I?
The last thing I will say about grief is this: it is unredeemable. I can’t spin it to make it sweet or inspiring. I can’t say with confidence that the process will lead to something good and worthwhile. I can’t even imagine what I’ll look like when it’s over. It just is what it is…and what it is sucks.
Thanks for letting me vent. Grief is bad; catharsis is good 🙂