I woke up to some sad news today. I felt the curtain of grief falling and enveloping me. Writing is my coping mechanism in such situations (as in so many others) but I don’t have the energy for it right now. The following post is from the archives: I’m not reblogging it but posting it as new because the intro didn’t apply due to different circumstances, so I’ve taken that out and another sentence half-way through – the rest of it is intact and pretty much how I feel right now.
You all have a beautiful day: life is transient and fragile – make sure you suck out all the marrow of it.
Originally posted on this blog in 2014:
Isn’t it true that every time we lose someone, we also lose a little piece of ourselves?
How many times can we go through that process until there’s nothing left?
Isn’t it true that every time we lose someone, the world grows a little darker?
How long until all the light is gone?
Isn’t it true that every time we lose someone, our heart becomes a little harder?
How long until we can’t feel anymore?
Isn’t it true that every time we lose someone, our spirit is diminished?
How long until we become soulless shells?
Grief is in the natural order – it is part of life.
But when grief throws a dark veil over your life and drains all the colours out of it – grief becomes a monster that needs to be slayed so you can regain your grasp on reality.
When grief threatens to swallow you whole, it is necessary to go in search of that elusive inner strength, needed to defeat the monster.
Grief, cold hard grief, which has no pity and doesn’t discriminate against anyone. It lays its icy fingers on strong and weak alike, with the same frigid indifference.
Grief is like wandering through a lugubrious castle, where all the doors are locked – colliding with endless uncaring walls and seemingly no way of escape
Today: grief has won – the monster has fed copiously and is full. It has left me empty, vacant, used, abused and useless.
Today: I cannot see even a dim light at the end of the tunnel. But I’m aware that it’s there, waiting for me, like a shining beacon that patiently and confidently waits for me to make my way to it.
Tomorrow I will start that journey, drag my somber and despondent self through the process again – shaking the gloom away and retrieving my essence, my core, my spirit… which will enable me to find and embrace the light.
Tomorrow is a brand new dawn gleaming with infinite and untold possibilities.
Tomorrow I will reach the myriads of colours presently out of my reach and bring back vividness into my life.
Image credit: izquotes.com and “Weeping Angel” photograph by McElroy, sculpture by William Wetmore Story