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I wasn't completely honest with you today.
I tried to write a chirpy post about my weekend in my usual way, but as soon as I clicked "publish", I felt like a fraud. I wasn't telling the whole truth.
The truth is, a friend of mine died this past weekend in tragic, terrible circumstances. And I am reeling from her death.
I am moving through the thickness of grief, as if it were gelatin and my arms and legs are stuck in it.
Tributes to her are pouring in on Facebook and I cannot focus. I cannot level my gaze to that space that demands complete concentration and awareness because that's when I feel pain. And I don't want to feel the sharpness of pain. Just the dull, round edge, like the metal bars you hold on to when you're on the bus.
That kind of pain is okay.
And then I went to yoga today - mostly because I needed to use up my pass before it expires on Thursday (but also because I'm eating out every night this week and I need the exercise). And we began the class on our backs, in savasana. Corpse pose. Feet turned slightly outward, palms up, arms slightly away from the body, face relaxed. And as we lay there, taking deep breaths in and letting them out through our mouths, the teacher began to talk about our lungs. How our lungs hold our emotions. How our lungs, specifically, hold grief. And how, as we allow that grief to rise to the surface, we also allow our anxieties to be released.
So I breathed in through my nose, and cried silently on my mat.
How can we navigate through this thickness of grief? This fog that makes us dumb and silent?
How do we survive an absence that is permanent? How can we convince ourselves that this is real? That this is the truth? That this is not a joke?
How?
I'm so sorry for your loss. Thank you for sharing.
ReplyDeleteThank you for reaching out to me and for leaving this comment, Rebecca. It means a lot to me.
DeleteOh Jamie, I am so incredibly sorry. Your post made my heart flutter thinking of a friend we lost in college. Every year on October 6th, we all stop to think about him...not that we haveever stopped thinking about him... but the pain somehow has become a part of us over the years and we've learned to grow with it. It became less crippling and more something that keeps us grounded I'd like to think. Every time Queen's "Under Pressure" comes on, I smile a bit because it was his favorite song. Every time I see The Big Lebowski, my heart tightens a little bit because he was never prouder than when he wore his "The Dude" costume at Halloween. I really admire that you wrote this post because I know it must have been hard. Time is hard to think about...but it will help. xx
ReplyDeleteThank you, Jess - and thank you for sharing your story with me as well. I'm working on focusing on those good memories, though it's been difficult as I feel as though I'm still in shock and disbelief. I know that time will help heal and that I need to be patient with myself. xx
DeleteI'm sorry, Jaime. I suppose the silver lining could be that you will eventually shift from hurting at the thought of your friend to allowing your best memories of them to overshadow your pain over their loss (and like Jess^ said, time will do its duty, too, dulling the pain). But grief is hard. The thing that (to me) is both good and bad about it is that missing them never goes away. Thanks for always being honest with us here, even when it's so difficult. Sending warmth your way :)
ReplyDeleteThank you, Gianni.
DeleteJaime, I'm so sorry for your loss. Right now, I don't think there's anyway you can move through grief. I think it moves through you and finally, when you're both ready, it clears from your mind and your lungs and heart and you can start to look back at the happier memories.
ReplyDeleteWe lost my brother's best friend in tragic and sudden circumstances a couple of years ago when they were both 24. It was my first experience of loss that wasn't someone older who'd lived a full life and it definitely hurt all the deeper.
Please take care of yourself, my thoughts are with you and your friends family.
Thanks for your words, Sorcha - they are so appreciated. And thank you for sharing your own experience of loss with me as well.
DeleteOh sweet, Jaime. I am so, so sorry to hear about this. I know there's nothing anyone can do, but if there is anything I can do on an everyday level please let me know. My thoughts are with you. <3
ReplyDeleteThank you, Robin. xo
DeleteI'm so so sorry for your loss Jamie. I believe there is no real way to deal with the grief of a berievement,everybody grieves in a way which is individual to them in their own time.My boyfriends father passed away in Feburary quite out of the blue and he is still grieving-sure he's not in tears every day but that pain will take time to heal.I hope you find your way through this grief and am sending you lots of hugs xx
ReplyDeleteThank you, Kara. I know - you're right that it takes time. I am so sorry to hear about your boyfriend's father. Thoughts are with you both as well, particularly during the holiday season xx
DeleteSending you many, many hugs - it is never easy. x
ReplyDeleteI'm so, so sorry.
ReplyDeleteYou know what - it's totally OK to feel grief. Life is a complete nob sometimes and it's totally OK to react to this. Let it all out.
My sister's best friend, a girl I've met no more than 5 times in her whole life (they're 9 years younger than me) died of leukemia a few weeks ago. I feel myself suddenly crying all the time. But it's OK. You have to let yourself go through this.
And I'm here for you if you ever want to vent or let stuff go to.