Issue #8: Finding Balance
A few thoughts on learning to accept both the dark and the light while going through grief
I didn’t write much in March for myself. I slogged through my work assignments but was afraid to write anything personally. It’s been a hard month, we lost one of our close friends unexpectedly at the beginning of the month, and it’s been hard to do anything normal in the last few weeks.
Now, it’s April, and I want to write about a few things I’ve learned about myself in these last few weeks in hopes that it may help someone in the future. I’m no expert, but I find that writing things out and sharing them can be extremely helpful and connect me to others. So here it goes…
Grief is a wild animal. I thought I had experienced it in the past, but it turns out that it doesn’t always take the same shape throughout your life, and each person that you lose will have a unique impact on your heart. Sometimes, you’ll have time to prepare, and other times, you won’t. Grief changes based on who you lost, how you lost them, how you found out, what role they played in your life, if you’ve experienced loss before, and so many more factors.
Generally, I’m a pretty positive person. I always tend to try and see the lighter side. I work to flip a situation as often as possible, viewing it from all angles and trying to gain a perspective that will remove negative feelings. But I’ve learned in the last few weeks that to find balance, both light and darkness must exist. I have to acknowledge all of it, even when it seems a little scary.
At first, I tried to fight the sadness and overwhelming feelings, but that made simple daily tasks unbearable. Seeing people shopping at the grocery store and going about their day-to-day seemed so wrong and was wildly upsetting. The only thing I could stand was to be around our close friends here who were facing the same thing. I needed people who understood how I was feeling. Only then could I discuss anything other than sadness without feeling guilty or upset.
After two weeks, I learned I needed to give myself space. I needed to let the emotions come over me like a wave. The only way out of these dark moments is through. Allowing myself time to cry and sit in silence makes it easier to go outside and appreciate the spring flowers or visit an art museum and look at beautiful things. I learned that grief is exhausting, and I’ve allowed myself more time to sleep. Typically, I’d try and bust out of a funk with exercise or distractions, but not this time and that’s OK.
The saying is that it’s always darkest before the dawn, but in the journey of grieving someone, you’ll experience dark, dawn, daylight, and dusk over and over again, and it’s hard to tell where you are in the cycle. The sun will rise, but you can easily fall back into darkness when you’re not expecting it.
Music is one way that I’ve been able to pull the emotions out. I made a playlist of songs that I knew would be especially triggering, and I’ve been taking advantage of quiet moments alone to listen to them and let my thoughts take me away. Listening to the lyrics, letting the tears fall. It feels like a release each time. Like I’m bringing a little darkness to me so I can learn to navigate through it on my terms. *If you want the playlist, just reply to this, and I’ll send it your way.
I’ve also been reading a book about grief. The author talks with people grieving over a loss and sharing their experiences. It helps validate my feelings and understand that constantly distracting myself isn’t going to make the hurt go away.
Additionally, I’ve learned what I don’t want. At the end of the day, I don’t want to hear that things happen for a reason or there’s a greater plan. I don’t want to hear that I should search for positive things. I don’t want to hear that it’s time to move on or that anyone is in a better place.
Instead, I need to continue to give myself the space to feel the emotions and work through them. I need to grieve the moments in the future and the space in my life that is now empty. I need to remember. I need people I love to check in but also respect my timeline and not push me through.
The object of grief is not to make the grief go away, but to expand your heart to make room for it.
I hope my heart is expanding through this. I feel so much more love for the people in my life, and that brings me joy. Every hug, every smiling photo shared, and every funny story brings me happiness. There is likely a long road ahead, and grieving changes with time. But I’m going through it.
If you are experiencing loss, you aren’t alone. I find great comfort in this book, Bearing the Unbearable, and this Instagram account, Grounded Grief, that a friend shared with me.
I’ll leave you with this. Tell someone close to you how much they mean to you today. Take lots of photos and videos. Call a friend on the phone. Help a stranger with their groceries or say thank you to someone who is part of your daily routine. Make an effort to share a little bit of your heart today because you’d probably be surprised at what small moments people hang on to when you’re gone.
And if you need someone to chat with, I’m here.
✌🏻💚
Steph
Sincere condolences on your loss. Peer loss has always been particularly devastating for me. Sending you and those also grieving peace and love.
I’ve also found grief is definitely different at different times, with different losses and that the only way through is through. And I can’t expect to return to myself as I was because I grow around my grief and don’t come through the same
I’d love to see your playlist