Grief

8FF8D233-A8E5-483E-BADD-69136FB3D93DSometimes words are not audible.  There are times our eyes say it all in their sadness and tears may fall or are always welled up within them. Our throat may tense as we take a breath and hold while trying to hold back an outburst of sobs.  Everything within is crumbling while you do everything to appear normal on the outside.

I have been through enough grief in my lifetime and I am sure you have, too.  Grief of actual deaths and of losses in relationships.  No matter, grief is grief.  Each new one will bring intense pain that seems to outdo the last one.

The mental and emotional torment takes its toll and then slowly, a daily realization comes that a new normal exists.

Have grace for yourself in the midst of the pain, as often as you need it.

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Change on a Dime

Funny how things can change on a dime, as they say.  This day was going so well.  The sun was shining, my list of things to do being crossed off and everything was lining up and running like clockwork.  I was happy and ready to have some fun with a few days off work.

In a few short hours, it was the day I dreaded.  Driving over the back roads with my sister to go to dinner and a movie, I pass my counselor’s office who has been on medical leave.  Her signage has been removed and my heart just drops.

63B8434B-7309-49F6-913D-9DEEB59C1111I knew one day that this was a possibility but never hoping it would.  I had to pick up a prescription on our way and in just that short distance, the emotions within me could not be contained. Basically, a death has occurred in my life.  Flip flop from sadness to anger and back again.

Grief is such a pain, whether for the dead or the living, it sucks.  No movie, no dinner, no interest anymore. Done.

So many questions, so many loose ends but…177F9360-1487-40FC-A06B-EC6F46CC93A8

Am I Right to Write?

34961F5B-2FF8-4A57-82A1-C06BD85311C0Still, after all of these weeks and months, I struggle in the area of grief missing my counselor in my life due to her medical leave of absence.  After four years of almost weekly or bi-weekly sessions, my routine has been distrupted.  Today, being Monday, I am still caught in the mix of missing my set appointment this afternoon and our fifty minutes or sometimes more of discussion.  I miss talking to her.
While seeing another counselor about my counselor and the abandonment felt, I know he is only temporary and I can deal with that.  The connection is not there although he is a joy to talk to.  The last session with him, we discussed the availability I have to contact her of which I do but I am always so hesitant.  I get so close to writing and then I delete my message, each and every time.  Today included.
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There is a risk of being hurt.  Not that she would be rude to me because I was told to keep her informed but my normal excuse is not to bother her.  Typical of childhood emotional neglect from what I have read.  I never want to bother anybody.  Even my temporary counselor, he gave me his private cell number but I told him that I will hold onto but will never use it and bother him.  I won’t.
It’s one of those moments of thinking and doing.  If I write, it shows I care and will brighten her day perhaps or if I write, it may be a bother and not be good.  Right or wrong thought pattern, I don’t know, as I go back and forth.  Who doesn’t like to know they are being thought of, right?  It comes down to fear, yet again in me.  E5461E46-3B27-4E72-9142-058106A065C9
Sometimes, I think about letting her know of my blog and she can read for herself of my walk through this torment of loneliness, attachment issues and abandonment felt.  I have no doubt that she knows I am dealing with all of this as she is a pretty smart cookie.  She knew me better than I knew myself in all of these years together, which is somewhat scary in itself.  Still, I hope that progress would be visible in my writing.  Hey, I haven’t cried today yet thinking about things or writing this.  Some days, that is a huge accomplishment, especially in the beginning.  Still, tears will fall.  A part of my life is gone.  Will it return and will it ever be the same?  Probably not.
Taking the risk always causes me to freeze in fear so my conclusion and questions within is always, am I right to write or not and can I handle the outcome?  Today, I still don’t know so I will continue on, as is.
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