Grief is a Bia

Three to six months. That’s how long I’ve been told this will last. What’s wild to me is how common of a feeling it once was. The lethargy, the dismissal of everything wonderful, the inability to appreciate the good around me, and the unwillingness to build strong bonds were mainstays. Now, it feels empty in a way I haven’t felt empty in years. For me to believe I was capable of carrying emotional vitality, of truly being full enough to offer my overflow to others seems a distant memory. I can’t say I have nothing now, since I realized where I was emotionally I took a step back and conserved my energy for myself; but after becoming so used to my fullness, this emptiness is difficult to accept. I want the smiles, I desire the connection, I crave the warmth of others but at the exact same time I don’t want any of it and I’m unable to receive joy. What I want is to be quiet, to watch some anime, to play some video games, to get lost in someone else’s story for a moment so I don’t have to live in my own. Definitely looking for a way to disconnect, at least momentarily, while I pull myself back together.

I don’t believe it to be anyone’s job to help me or be there for me when I’m incapable of being there for myself. Doing my best is all I have right now. I miss my Papa D like crazy, it’s sexual assault awareness month and I’ve been thinking about my personal sexual history and while quite a bit of it is fantastic, there are moments of darkness that stick out like a sore thumb, and it’s frustrating. My saving grace is that I’m aware of where I’m at emotionally and I have taken the time to be with myself, offer me love, offer me grace, and hold myself while the tears flow. My regular therapy sessions definitely don’t hurt. This is my very first time not falling off the face of the earth when I feel terrible, so I’m proud that I’ve stuck around and allowed myself to be in spaces I once would have avoided in fear of being seen at anything less than my best. I’m not at my best right now, that won’t be back for a little while, and I’m slowly accepting that I can’t force my feelings to be anything other than what they are.

Love, understanding, acceptance, and respect are what I have to offer myself.

I love that I am resilient and maintain the knowledge that regardless of my current cloudy skies, the sun will return when its time comes. I love that I am capable of sharing my story and perspective where I once was terrified of speaking at all. I love that I care deeply and have a strong innerstanding of myself and am able to extend that to an overstanding of others when I have the capacity. I love that I know when my capacity has met a point where it can no longer be shared boundlessly.

I understand that I’m depressed and need to take time to myself. I understand that time will get me where I need to be emotionally and I can’t rush the process. I understand that life isn’t fair and that “good” doesn’t always prevail, there is no consistent state of balance, just an overarching balance in the end. I understand that this isn’t the end.

I accept my feelings and how they’ve affected my relationships with others. I accept my refusal to pretend and over perform in order to fulfill society’s demands of consistent productivity; I do not feel productive right now. I accept that I need tenderness and concern and I provide that effortlessly. I accept that my needs are strong and that if others want to assist, they can, but there is absolutely no pressure because the sadness of others is a heavy burden to bear. I accept that right now is a tough moment and I have to live with the way I treat myself each and every day; I choose compassion.

I respect my boundaries. I respect my clarity. I respect others regardless of their respect for me. I respect the choices that I make. I respect that I no longer attempt to read the minds of others and instead allow them to show up as they choose. I respect that not every friendship I develop will withstand the test of time regardless of how much I want it to. I respect who I am as a human being having a human experience.

There’s still time left in this grieving process. I never expected my fathers death to dredge up such old wounds but here I am. It’s frustrating because while he and I weren’t close, I’m reminded of the amazing people I’ve lost in my life and how their deaths impacted the way I functioned on a day to day basis. I think about not dancing with my grandfather again, not laughing with my grandmother, not hearing stories of youth from my aunts and uncles; these are the losses that I’m grieving intensely and I know I have to keep moving forward. I’m moving a bit slower than usual because I need to right now and it’s a blessing being in a space where I don’t feel rushed to be “normal.” For now, I’ll cry, I’ll sit, I’ll reminisce, and I’ll grow into something new and different and beautiful. I’m not sure who it’ll be or when it’ll come but I know with utmost certainty that it’s on its way and I’ll be here with an open heart and open arms awaiting it’s arrival.

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