yet another post about grief

I wrote this one last week, I’m fine today.

Pardon me friends, while I lean over this canyon and shake my head a little to empty it.

But her death nonetheless seemed like the wrong outcome—an instant that could have gone differently, a story that could have unfolded otherwise. If I could find the right turning point in the narrative, then maybe, like Orpheus, I could bring the one I sought back from the dead. Aha: Here she is, walking behind me.
Story’s End: writing a mother’s death (Meghan O’Rourke)

All that beseeching … gods, doctors, the universe, crystals, science … it doesn’t work. Obviously it doesn’t. (Please don’t let pso called psychics prey on you.) You bargain, you offer everything you have, including your life. (They’re just cold reading you.) You can’t gamble when there are no dice.

(It’s pouring with rain now, in the lonely early hours. It’s been thundering and raining for two days, which in this corner of the world, is a very good thing indeed for the brackish water table and a very bad thing for the majority of the population, who live in jerry built shacks that leak and flood. It was raining gently this morning and I took my dog and my middle class ass for an energetic walk on the beach. Up along the toes of the tall sand dunes to beachcomb and back along the subtidal zone to be close to the sea and find out what fish and seaweed and bluebottles and jellyfish may have been tossed ashore. Halfway back, grief slammed into me like Mjölnir as usual, and I sort of staggered along unseeing and shouting and crying for a bit. Mhm I did my crying in the goddamn rain.)

image

Perhaps I have a grief loop – a Möbius strip grief loop. Grief hits, then rage, then despair, then sad sad sadness and then, as Matt Johnson sang* “the whole goddamn thing starts all over again.” Did you make Möbius strips at school? A strip of paper, a little twist, a little glue and then absolute delight at the whole thing. Remember? At some point it gets lost or worn and torn; at some point perhaps my loop will be linear.

La la la la life goes on. (Fuck you, Beatles.)

I guess at some point, with any sort of trauma, you’ve got to take your heart and your lungs in your hands, sigh (because sighs matter) and put them safely into your favourite pocket, then keep moving forwards. Rage becomes anger and fades into despair, sadness shifts on silent feet and doesn’t shout anymore. At some point, despair might walk quietly away and then sadness takes your hand and you both walk until you’re tired enough for dreamless sleep. What is the difference between resignation and healing? As Gandalf said to Frodo, “There are some wounds that cannot be wholly cured.” That was from the books – the next quote is from the film and is all poignant and stuff and maybe you’ll prefer it.

“How do you pick up the threads of an old life? How do you go on, when in your heart you begin to understand there is no going back. There are some things that time can not mend. Some hurts that go too deep… that have taken hold.” (Frodo to Gandalf)

image

You find meaning in your life, or you don’t. You bandage your wounds or watch them bleed. You can’t do any of it without love, whether it’s a song or a heartbreak. Maybe you find yourself sitting with your head in your hands and unshed tears throttling you and jaws that haven’t unclenched in years. Maybe you find your god, maybe you start a foundation, maybe you don’t do a thing. Maybe your life crumbles around you and you lose interest. I don’t. Fucking. Know. Things that feel the least like choices might be the hardest and most important choices you** ever make.

Some people will understand and some will not and suddenly it really matters.

It’s daylight now and still raining hard; last night was horrible, on the whole. It turned into such a strange, featureless landscape, cowering under thunder clouds and roaring at the rain. I used my last sleeping pill and it may as well have been an aspirin. I slept for a few hours during the morning, I sat and stared stupidly, I did a few chores, I talked to some friends.

I don’t consider myself a pessimist. I think of a pessimist as someone who is waiting for it to rain. And I feel soaked to the skin. (Leonard Cohen)

This is not one grief, one thing. I’m writing it out to empty my veins as well as my head, there’s a damn grief traffic jam in there and I am afraid of a gridlock. I wish I believed in something. I wonder if I’m a few milligrams lighter now.

Onwards.

* True Love This Way Lies – the The
** I keep saying you when I really mean me.

Advertisements

Published by

blahpolar

battlescarred, bright, bewildered, bent, blue & bipolar

23 thoughts on “yet another post about grief”

  1. Grief and other painful emotions can metastasize. You, and I mean “you”, are right in getting that shit out of your mind; out of your heart; out of your body. You are doing the right thing, by getting it out – in all the practical ways you’ve mentioned: crying, shouting, walking. I saw this and thought about you:

    Ants carry 10x their body weight. That’s a lot of grief to carry. The hard part, I imagine, is finding a permanent spot to lay it down to rest.

    xx

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Metastasize is a really good (and accurate) way of putting it, it’s a word I usually fumble badly when trying to say it lol.

      I like ants as long as they’re not running around inside my house, and now I have a very sweet image of an ant with an enormous parcel, tied up with brown string, singing, “the ants are my friends…” which is a line I first read a billion years ago on http://kissthisguy.com/

      tqvm for the comment!

      Liked by 2 people

  2. Strong stuff, and true. Glad you’re feeling a bit better now.

    I like the Gandalf quote from the book. I think grief falls in the category of “wounds which cannot be wholly cured”. If it could, would this be a good thing? I’m not so sure.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks Sheila – no, I wouldn’t want that wound to heal completely, it like it to heal well and leave a rather debonair scar. Then when people asked how I got it, I’d say, “pirates”.

      Liked by 1 person

  3. I’m so sorry you’re going through this. When you said “grief loop” I began to wonder if I too am also on an endless loop. I feel like I’ll never climb out of this chasm. There are no words that I can say that will really help, but know that I do care and I’m here. It’s been too easy for me to isolate myself in my grief and maybe reading this is my first foothold out. 💓Dani

    Liked by 2 people

    1. I’m sorry you’re looping sadly too. I gave these grief posts a category of their own, because I seem to need to write a lot about it and quite often too. I think that sometimes the chasm gets filled and it’s edges smoothed until it becomes a hollow in the ground. You’d see it from time to time and remember what made it, you’d maybe even step in it and weep – but never again would it be an infinite and gaping chasm that’d break you if you fell in.

      Thank you for your kind words and your caring – we will get through it :)

      Liked by 1 person

  4. Powerful post. I’m glad you’re doing better now. Grief is one of the emotions I handle poorly. It really consumes me… yet, here I am.

    Here we remain.

    Like

  5. There is no right or wrong way to grieve-only you can walk your grief trail. BUT, you have WONDERFUL friends here to give you all kinds of support. It’ll be 18 years since my Grampa passed, 5 for my Gramma, 4 for Ma and Pa, and those wounds are still raw. The one from my husband is still rough around the edges and smarts, and Florida’s has healed the best, though it throbs when i whack it. I love you, dear dear friend. We all heal differently and on different time-tables. No one can tell YOU how YOU should heal.
    ❤️ Sass

    Liked by 1 person

  6. You are a little lighter now, we just don’t know, how much is left. But I’m not going anywhere.You have a hetero twin who lives in Florida, who walks the beach every day with her dog. Her name is Sandi Beachbrat lol (well that is what she calls herself). Loves the beach, the water, her dog…

    Liked by 1 person

      1. She is one of a kind – love her! She doesn’t trust me much because I am a Christian (she’s not). It’s quite funny, she will “friend” and “unfriend” me on facebook about every 3 months lol.

        Liked by 1 person

comment or the dragon will toast you

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s