Grief Is …

Grief is ….

Grief is that feeling where nothing is flat. There are mountains and rocks and mud, and giant pieces of glass. There is fire and lightning and floods, and you are walking in it without any shoes on. In the dark.

Grief is scolding hot and chilled to the bone. It gets in your nails and leaves you unwhole.

Grief is that thing where you walk into a room, and you have no idea why. You are searching for answers in a puzzle that has all the wrong shapes, and can never be completed. It is losing your keys and finding them in the oven. Or watching 5 episodes of the same show on TV without ever knowing it. It is laughing a half-assed chuckle. It is pretending. Acting. Putting on a brave face to get through the day, the moment, the conversation. Grief has no focus. No time. No purpose.

Grief is being jealous of your own brother because he gets to have two kids with his wife. Envious of your own parents because they get to be married to the same person for 45 years and counting. Walking into a nursing home to visit an elderly relative, and walking out wondering what your husband would have been like at the age of 50. 65. 74. 83.

Grief is that migraine that pounds at your head and screams in your ear while you sleep. Grief is the monster that keeps you from sleeping. The illness that steals your reason. Your life.

Grief is in your eyeballs, in your knees, in your feet. It’s in your hips and your fingers. Grief lays in your stomach and churns. Grief is a pain in your arms. It’s heavy, like carrying sandbags on your shoulders. Everyday. Every second. Grief hurts every inch of your body. All the time. Always.

 

Grief Is …

Seeing a cop or a paramedic and feeling the urge to rest your head in their chest, because their uniforms look just like your husband’s.

Going to the grocery store and avoiding the aisles with his favorite cereal, root beer, and sandwiches.

Sitting in the car 20 seconds after the light has turned green, not even noticing the impatient horns behind you. Beeping. Yelling. Judging.

Grief steals all the things, the moments, that you once loved, and turns them into a sad and awful reminder. The holidays. The family-gatherings. His birthday. Yours. Why should I eat cake and get presents and celebrate life when he doesn’t get to have one? Grief makes things that were once joyful and fun – horrible and sad. Cringeworthy. Grief means not being able to bear seeing all the families with their Christmas trees and dinners and laughter and tradiitions. Grief makes you want to run far away before the New Year’s Eve countdown gets to one. Grief leaves you inside an empty box. Alone. Confused. Angry.

 

Grief is the bear in the woods, waiting to pounce. Its a jumbled sentence. It’s 150 emotions trapped inside a tiny room. Fighting.

Grief is a silent Hell. Nobody could ever understand. Nobody could ever feel your pain. Nobody gets you. Grief is lonely. Isolating. Sick.

Grief is nausea. Hysteria. Anxiety wrapped in panic. Fearing what comes next. Fearing right now.

Grief is looking at a sunrise and wondering if he can see it too. Grief makes you question. Makes you doubt. Leaves you unsure and unsafe.

 

Grief Is …

Blasting your favorite song on the radio and singing out loud, then seconds later, sobbing uncontrollably for no apparent reason.

Leaving the party early. Feeling alone in a crowded room. Feeling suffocated when you are alone. Feeling like you don’t belong anywhere.

Eating your take-out dinner at 10pm, sitting in your bed, because it’s too depressing to cook and then eat alone at the table. Eating in shame.

 

Grief doesn’t leave. It’s that weird annoying uncle who tells the same story over and over again, everyday, every year, on Thanksgiving. Grief is repetitive. Grief is repetitive. Grief is repetitive. Grief is a pimple that won’t ever pop. It’s a sadness that lives inside you. Grief is feeding yourself poison – everyday. Standing still, but feeling seasick. Overthinking, but incoherant. An ocean filled with dirt. Music that pierces your eardrum. Grief is the sky inside of your throat. Trapped. Scared. Waiting to be free.

Grief makes you ugly and mean and cold. It’s that thing that won’t let you go. Won’t let you move forward. The elevator with no floors. The escalator that doesn’t stop. A board game played for eternity. A merry-go-round forever. Grief is that friend that won’t take a hint. It sleeps on your couch and doesn’t pay rent. It’s a scream and a whisper. A push and a pull. A stab and a dull.

 

Grief is guilt. So much guilt. Guilt for bad thoughts. Good thoughts. Guilt for feeling joy. Guilt for existing, while he lies there dead.

Grief has no logic. No sense. No soul.

 

This is my grief. You get your own. They are the same, but not at all. Grief does not share. It is selfish and rude. It makes you loathe anyone who feels happiness. And then you loathe yourself for that feeling. Grief does not go. It stays. It changes. It shifts. It hurts and it pains and it stomps and cries and punches. It ebbs and it flows. It calms, and then pours. There is no start. No finish. No middle. It’s just there, forever. Like breathing. If you get through the storm, and if you survive, you might emerge someone new. Someone changed.

Darker. Evolved. Different. Awake.

 

Grief is an endless loop. A book with no last page. A vacumn that leaves all the shit behind.

Grief is nothing. It is everything. It is selfish and all-consuming. It is grey and vague and cloudy.

Grief is a circle, and you are inside. Going ’round. And around. and around. Keep going around.

Don’t fight it.

Just roll.

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6 thoughts on “Grief Is …

  1. Beautifully written! You’re definitely helping us all understand maybe a tiny sliver of what you’re going through.

  2. Wow….this is everything I feel….everyday…nobody else gets it like that. But I am almost 59…one boob half as small as the other due to lumpectomy for breast cancer. 50 lbs overweight..hair thinning…you are young, you have a lot of time ahead of you. This was my main thought reading your blog. At least I can see light at the end of the tunnel for me…probably won’t live past 70 if that old. I don’t know if I want to. I spent 10 years with him before we married….a lot of other girls would have given up…but about 4 years in I knew we would be together….and we were. Then we got married. I was soooo happy. I spent half my life either thinking of him, or being with him. How can I forget that? Or even put it on the back burner? I know he would want me to go on…I just don’t want to. I love the brutal honesty you write with. It is all I feel….

  3. You have such a way with words. I wish you didn’t have the means to lessen my grief, but know that you do. Thanks for sharing your writing. Do you know that I print out and save every one? I look forward to the day that I may get a signed copy of your book. Love ya Kelley.

  4. Grief sucks. I don’t know that the pain ever lessens, but my experience has been that eventually… when you least expect it, you realize you’ve grown strong enough to bear it. Thanks so much for sharing this with us – would that I could share some strength with you.

  5. I lost my wife of 55 years to Alzheimers, i cared for her for 7 years and loved her all the more for her bravery and courage.
    i try to remember the good times, they get me depressed because these were things WE did togeather, and had fun doing them. The good memories hurt.
    i try to do things WE used to do togeather, i can’t bring myself to enjoy anything WE enjoyed togeather, it brings a flood of emotion.
    Life will never be the same in any way without her.In 55 years, we spent only 6 days apart, it was such a joy to love her and know she loved me, her company was all i ever needed.
    When her life ended, most of my life ended. Only Family and Grandchildren make life tolerable, unfortunately they have their lives to live. So, i am so lonely, and feel all alone without her by my side loving , comforting , and consoling me. She was compassionate, my Lover, confidant , comforter and soul mate, We agreed a long time ago that our Love Is ALWAYS AND FOREVER , we will be togeather again, never ever to be parted

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