Grief without a name

Had you asked, I would probably have quite enthusiastically advised you that, no- I have not experienced grief. Standard grief, the loss of grandparents, beloved pets, but not grief that is crippling, all-consuming, the great loss of something that you were not ready to let go of, the kind that shakes you to the core and makes you question all that you know.

No, grief I had avoided, I’d say with haste.

But the more work I did, the more time that I spent slowly and gently sifting through the aftermath, allowing myself the time to unpick and process, hold space for all of the feelings, I realised there was one emotion that I had overlooked hugely.

Sadness, fear, anxiety, overwhelm, anger, and hopelessness had all taken their place at the top of the table, but one was missing.

Grief.

And this realisation took me on a journey that led me to understand grief in a different light, in a subtler context, understanding its many layers and complexities, for I needed to give a space to the grieving that I had to do of a former life.

An assumed potential and path that was at the very basis of existence, with values and worth sewn through its tapestry. The assumed creation of a family, of dreaming long into the future, picturing old age, safe in the knowledge that there was time, time for it all, with no real rush. An uninterrupted career, the natural year-on-year progression, the compound interest that comes with not having your life blown open every 10 years. The option to not educate myself on how best to keep my head above water, the ease of ignorance and self-indulgence.

This path has taken me to a place I’d never have dared dream of, I know I had to walk it to come home to myself. But please do not mistake my gratitude as platitudes from someone who travelled it with ease, who did not hit lows that I do not care to remember for fear of the claws embedding in me, forcing me to begin the long fight back to me, repeating again and again . I have more than my fair share of battle scars, but I wear them with pride, knowing that we are all stronger than we care to believe. Know that you too have it within you, you won’t necessarily find it when you need it, but you’ll see it clearly when you come to the part where you reflect back on what the hell just happened to you.

Take the time for that reflection, we need the pauses to allow us to see our victories.

I have faced grief, and I am still standing.