Writing without the deeply personal is not the whole story of grief. To give the whole story, to give as many handholds as possible in the steep climb of grief, we need to hear personal stories. It’s in these stories that we find reflection and connection.
This week, a post from somewhere around year two and a half of my own grief, when my old self, my pre-death self, felt very far away.
I lost so much of myself when he died. I miss it. I miss myself. I wish something could bring me back to me.
Is there anything that would bring back my Before self? Or at least encourage it to return, it whatever form it can?
My world has become so small now. It’s so hard to shake the anxiety of impending doom. I’m relentlessly guarding against more loss, knowing I do not have it in me to deal with another emergency. There has only been one true emergency in my 41 years, but it was a doozy. It’s hard to not guard against more. Hard to choose something other than anxiety.
I understand my anxiety, I just wish it wasn’t so.
I miss my normalcy. I miss trusting that everything is alright, or that it will be so. I had far more of my former mojo in the months soon after he died. In those days closer to impact, I was more me. Fear hadn’t taken hold. I didn’t expect more destruction. I wasn’t braced for doom.
I resent the shrinking smallness of my world and of my mind. I have faded. I’m a shadow of who I was.
I read other people writing of adventure, of being willing to open and to soften and to see. I used to be like that. I want to be back there. I want to feel that peace and calm and trust again. To be the adventure I used to be.
I am not.
And I am not in enough places that feed me, that bring it out, that nurture that calm, adventurous me I once was. I am tired of feeling this way, both repulsed and saddened by the infectious non-adventure and anxiety in me. If I have to live this, and I do, man I want my peace back. I want to be even a fraction of who I was before.
It’s on my mind a lot these days – what is a nurturing environment for me? Can there even be one?
I don’t know if that’s possible. I just really don’t like this new me, or at least the life I’m living.
How about you? Has your world shrunk in the days, months, years since they died? What parts of yourself that were lost would you most like back? What would you need in order to even encourage those old, good parts of you to return? Let us know in the comments.