Sometimes writing and reality have little in common

I have recently experienced loss. My mother died a few weeks ago and that has caused me to reflect, recall my father’s death three years ago, search and remember.

In addition to thinking of my family, my upbringing and my history, I have felt a great sense of misery over another reality that causes me to feel loss and grief.

The details of my hurt are unimportant but my experiences have helped me to understand grief again in a very real and daily way.

All of the insights about what happens to us when we lose someone or something really important are true.

I often find myself in a fog, sometimes daydreaming about what might have been and sometimes really needing to confirm that things are real.

Am I really here?

Is this really happening to me?

Is this real at all?

I have spent weeks simply trying to take it all in and still there is much that I cannot grasp, almost like it’s all been happening to someone else, a foggy dream I guess.

When I can get hold of what’s happening to me then I find myself trying to understand and I struggle to cope.

What does this mean for me?

How will my life change?

What am I left with?

I have no idea when these feelings will pass and I am far to raw to begin to even imagine that there may be better days ahead.

I don’t want to socialize or have fun. I really don’t want much to do with others. I certainly don’t want advice, no matter how well meaning, all I hear are annoying, empty words.

I want to be left alone, yet understood at the same time. More than that I want someone, somehow to fix my problem. Make it go away, make it better.

When I have the courage, I try to look at what I have lost and very slowly try to take it in. Most of the time though, it’s all so painful that I try to ignore what’s happening to me all together.

When I am able, I spend my time trying to realize what is happening to me and occasionally, I try to recognize what all of this will mean for my life going forward.

The words that I utter to myself and often out loud are “ what am I supposed to do now?” and “what’s to be become of me?”

If I don’t watch for it and fight against it I find myself in despair, really wondering what the point is to anything at all.

In a nutshell, this is my struggle and I am sure, the plight of the grieving.

What has happened to me?

What does it all mean?

What shall I do now?

How do I manage to go on?

You can read more about grief by getting a copy of I CAN’T STOP CRYING GRIEF AND RECOVERY A COMPASSIONATE GUIDE