Grieving is really hard for me, and I try to avoid it at all costs. Someone said, “grief is the price we pay for love.” I try to remember that.
It’s hard losing someone. Even if the relationship was complicated and difficult. How weird that someone who caused me so much distress in life can cause me so much grief after his death.
As hard as Halloween is, Christmas is worse. He would turn the garage into the “Haunted Garage” and the kids would have to be brave enough to walk through it in order to receive candy. That was a lot of fun.
Christmas was… different. I mean, it was… beautiful. He went all out, and that was cool. But it was also still kind of stressful. Like waiting for the other shoe to drop. We had team-building at my new job and we went around sharing our favorite Christmas memories. The only two memories I could bring to mind weren’t great– even though I do have some really good Christmas memories. So instead of completely bullshitting my new coworkers I told them about how one Christmas we gave my step-dad a couple fake “winning” lottery tickets, how he totally believed it, and how funny it was when he realized they weren’t real. We all laughed. I didn’t tell them the reality of how awful and stressful that day got, and how I wish I didn’t have to remember all of that.
And there’s pain in talking bad about someone whom I so desperately wish were still alive. I give myself permission to speak freely because I deserve to speak my truth and be heard. But then I wonder if he’s looking over my shoulder from the spirit world– how I really, really hope that he still exists somewhere, somehow. But I don’t want him to be mad at me or feel bad about the things that have passed.
I don’t want to fail my own daughter. I worry about that a lot. Sometimes I think I already have. Maybe we’re all playing a losing game.
I told my therapist I’ve been feeling emotional, and how do I make it stop? What am I doing wrong? I just want to feel content and at peace. She reminded me that it’s normal and healthy to feel emotions and that includes sadness sometimes. She said if I don’t want to feel my feelings, I could take a bunch of pills or drugs… but I’ve been there, done that, and I know it’s only temporary anyway. But doesn’t it feel nice for that little while?
Honestly, it’s too exhausting to keep running from my feelings. I need to look them in the eyes and ask, “what do you want from me?” And they respond, “love, comfort, care.” And these are good things that I now know how to provide. But even when I do, sometimes the pain lingers. And so I know I’m human and alive; I know I’ve known love and joy.
It’s been like 15 years, and I’m tired of missing him. Why does it still hurt so much? Well I’ve only been grieving for 8 I suppose; those first 7 years I spent tumbling through addiction and obtaining more trauma. I finally crawled my way out of that hole, and now I find myself in reality.
I really hope there’s an alternate reality where he’s still alive and well. My life might look quite different. Or maybe not. Who knows? I was an addict even before he died, anyway. It doesn’t take much to knock down the tower when someone has no healthy coping skills. Perhaps dreaming of an alternate reality is just another attempt to escape my actual reality.
I am grateful, truly. I have so much love in my life. And usually I can remind myself of all the blessings I have and feel better, feel more at peace. But I think my body is telling me, “Skye, you’re sad. It’s okay to be sad. Just feel it and let the tears come. It will pass but right now, we need to cry and feel the grief.” So I will hold myself and cry. I make room for the sadness to exist and express itself. I honor my emotions and I honor those I’ve lost.
I grieve so deeply because I’ve loved so fiercely.