The Hard Stuff--Grief

“I thought I could describe a state; make a map of sorrow. Sorrow, however, turns out to be not a state but a process. It needs not a map but a history...” 
― C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed


My first draft of this post was very enlightened and sweeping and had great advice on living through grief.  And some--or maybe even a lot--of it will end up in the final draft but first...

Sorrow, hurt and pain suck.  Grief is hard. That's what I think.  It is never fun to go through.  Sometimes it physically hurts.  It can be paralyzing.  It has a horrible sense of uniqueness to it that makes me feel like there's no one who will understand.  There is a sense of weakness about it, a sense that I am letting it go on too long or too strong.  That no one else takes so long to get over things. That everyone is sick to death of hearing about it.  I get sick of hearing myself.

In my typical fashion, I went it alone.  Then I got lonely.  Then I got angry.  Then I actually was alone.  Almost irrevocably.

There are better ways to walk through sorrow. 
But it will never be easy.  When things don't turn out like I wanted, let alone how I expected, it hurts.  It's hard. 
And it never lasts.

Been reading a great book lately--Unattended Sorrow and it has been a huge help.  Completely counter-intuitive for me.  It suggests letting sorrow take as much space in my body and psyche as it wants.  Not to turn it away, ignore it or bottle it up.

This may be obvious to you, but it's not how I naturally operate.  It was unexpected to find that there was plenty of room for it.  There were also tears for it, nausea for a little while and, typical for me, a desire to shut all the feelings down (read Fear).  I didn't realize how much was there and that it is about more than the death of loved ones (most recently, my dad in 2009).  Because I never willingly gave grief any space all the disappointments, hard times and hurts of my life were waiting to latch onto any new grief.  All waiting for some space.

So I gave it space and here I am.  Still alive and not so sad.  Able to do the things I need to do and some of the things I like to do and even some new things.

This grief is giving me the space I didn't give it for so long and it is being kinder to me.  It's not coming out all sideways.  It's not hanging around in the wee hours waiting to make me feel miserable.  It's simply there.  Ready for me when I'm ready for it.  Most of the time.  I have to admit, that places, songs, scents can all put me back in touch with my sorrow whether I'd like to right then or not.  But now I try to give it a moment.  It turns out that a little nod, a breath and a bit of stillness is all it needs, then I get to go on about my business.

I'm not terrific at giving grief space yet.  It sneaked up on me just yesterday and I ignored it.  Old habits are hard to break. When I talked about it this morning, it was almost an afterthought to the conversation.  I almost forgot to say something--but as soon as I did I could feel my throat constrict and my nose itch.  Still, I kept the conversation going and didn't take that pause.  Why is that?  I knew I was upset, I knew I was having feelings.  Why not give myself a moment to experience them?

Because I think they will take up too much space.  That it's a bottomless pit.  This time--I won't ever stop feeling sad. Yes. But also it's my strong desire to keep control over everything.  Grief doesn't walk a predictable path and I find that unnerving and frightening.  I don't ride roller coasters because I don't like the feeling of gravity pulling me down and in a similar way, I don't like be jerked around by my emotions and I fight it.  I'm learning that it's a losing battle and the harder I fight it, the more casualties there are.

So today I'll give grief (or sorrow or disappointment or fear) its moment of grace.  So far it hasn't gone on forever and it hasn't killed me.  My life is flowing more and has lost that stuck feeling. I've even been a bit happier.


© Elizabeth Ebel-Nuwayser and K and Z Homeschool, 2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Elizabeth Ebel-Nuwayser and K and Z Homeschool with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.