Grieving is crazy inconsistent, and so many factors decide how one’s personal journey will unfold. At first, of course, the challenge to get up out of bed feels like a lesson in mental survival. The endless, black hole that grabs your heart can’t be compared to anything else in life. Death of a life-long partner forces the mourning of every aspect of your life and leaves you joyless, experiencing what seems like an endless, pointless, requirement to push onward. And then comes the “cleanup”and closure” that only you can do, necessitating clear, unfoggy thinking in a timely manner…yet another challenge.
For the first few months, because I was lucky, family and friends provided the initial support system, truly reminding me of why I was alive. They distracted me from the daily thoughts of that void, providing brief respites from the sadness. With laughter being the medicine for the brain, my grief brain activity occasionally got a break. I’ve done some reading about that and grief isn’t depression – which comes from a different section of the brain. Grief comes from the part of the brain that deals with addiction…which is an unsoothable craving causing more insatiable yearning than you can stand. Knowing that, I do my best to “change the channel” when those dark thoughts of loss grab me. If I’m quick enough, I can ward off a pity party and turn off the tear faucet in time. If, not, well…that’s why I’m not wearing make-up that much this year.
I’m now at ten months and ten days since he passed and finding times when I actually can feel happy. I just have to beware of that black hole…in fact, I have to be ever vigilant when I go out with friends. There was a very real dip in my progress at about six months after my husband transitioned. It was when my support systems became less available (but with good reasons). I felt so terribly alone, and the distractions and opportunites for joy dribbled away making these last few months very hard, all over again. It was heavy grief, wave number two. I had to process what was “me” and not “we” …while even unsure of when to use “mine” and “ours” – like when talking about our daughters or grandchildren. I needed to adjust my thoughts about my days and nights no longer flowing as a “shared” life. It seemed like I had so much processing to do just to feel whole.
A couple of months ago, I saw a quote that said, “It doesn’t take two people, to make one whole person.” It was a timely reminder and one of several “gifts” that came to me, always arriving exactly when I needed them. I cut that one out and left it where I could see it often during the day. I started reading more about the soul, Conciousness, and the afterlife. My medium readings, as well as all the unexplainable electronic “happenings” around my house, reminded me that my late husband is doing exactly as he promised he would do if he passed first…and exactly how he would do it. His spirit has brought me from trying to believe, to knowing his soul is still here. Like I said, today marks ten months and ten days, and I’m doing better now because I know he’s not gone. His energy is still with me, and the comfort of knowing that makes such a difference!
If you’ve had a loved one who has transitioned and found grieving to be like a roller coaster, I’d love to hear your story.
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