Grief
I am not sure if I am more hyper-aware of sayings and quotes about grief due to recent events, or maybe social media really has gotten to the point of mind reading, which I've honestly suspected. Either way, consciously or unconsciously, more of them have been popping up lately.
"I've been reading that the brain is like a muscle. It's why getting over a death is so hard, because your brain has been trained to feel things for a person, and when they go away, your head is still operating under the impression that it should feel those things for that person, like muscle memory." -Dan Levy, Good Grief
"Grief doesn't want attention. Grief is a hand on your chest. A hand no one can see." -- Steven Dietz, This Random World
"And why does nothing change? Why does the vending machine keep working? Why do the phones still ring? Shouldn’t something be different?" -Steven Dietz, This Random World
"What is grief, if not love persevering." -Vision, Wandavision
There have been more, but I will not dive into them all. Grief is such an odd thing that is different for everyone. I have heard myself tell ones I love that everyone grieves differently, shaming those outsiders-looking-in for judging their process. I have heard the advice come out of my mouth to "give yourself time" and "don't be hard on yourself" when they feel like they should be behaving or feeling a certain way. And I mean every bit of it. Through this season of losing not only my last remaining grandparent but a mamaw, role model, and friend, I have learned a lot about how I personally deal with grief.
I don't.
I have always been one of those people that will avoid sad emotions at all costs. Tear-jerker movies? No thank you. Book where an animal dies? Nope. Because of genetics and personality "quirks," I am confortable with expressing most of my emotions, usually out loud. But sadness and I have never been on good terms. Yes, I watched Inside Out. I know that other emotions cannot exist in their full potential unless there is sadness among the mix. That sadness and joy can coexist, and that grief exists because great, deep connections and love exist. I realize that without sadness, along with all other emotions, I would not be who I am, no one would. Life would not be what it is. It has come to my attention dealing with grief in the manner I do (as in not dealing with it) is not healthy. I should probably embrace grief instead of pushing it into the corner. To let the waves wash over me as they come, like the storm before the calm.
With all this philosphical wordsmithing, some kind of epiphany might be expected. A realization to change, and maybe a report of how I plan to reform my methods of dealing with grief. Is that what this is? No. Will this change anything? Honestly, probably not any time soon.
It is not that I do not cherish the memories. That is not what I push back. Those I feel, those I relish in. Those are what probably keep me from falling apart (and at this point I may be held together with whatever the emotional version of duct tape is). It is not that I do not wish to remember, nor wish to be one of those that can handle grief in a healthier way. However, I prefer to concentrate on others, sharing their burdens as a way of coping with mine. Taking care of things that need to be done as a way of dealing with what is not there anymore. I try to take the energy for sadness and fling it into other things--distractions are beginning to be my bread and butter.
I hold those that are still here and those that have gone on very dear, make no mistake. The "burden" is not the indivual, not the memories, just the grief itself. The weight. The sadness. The overwhelming feeling. The aftermath. There are still some dark times, no matter how hard I push. They come--sometimes as a whisper, sometimes as a scream. Grief is a part of life, just like the events that bring joy. We experience it at different times, for different reasons, and in different ways.
In those dark times, I squeeze those I love a little harder , I close my eyes a little tighter, and I breathe a little deeper.
