Grief & Guilt

Sunday, August 2, 2015 12:09 PM by The sleeping willow tree 1 comments
Grief & Guilt 

I think of things all the time that I want to write about. Profound things, silly things, things in between. Sometimes I'll grab a pen or open my notes on my phone, and I can't get them out. 

"You've said enough already, Janeen" "Time to move forward" 
I push the thoughts from my head but they come back. 
They come back because processing these thoughts IS how you move forward. They don't just go away. They will wait for you.

Feelings of grief and guilt have been on my mind a lot lately. 

I watched a pilot to a TV show a few weeks ago (The Whispers)
There's a scene where a woman is giving advice to a mother that has lost her child.

"You'll get through this." That's what people say, don't they? They said it to me. It really pissed me off. What exactly does it mean to "get through this"? Through what? What's on the other side? I didn't want to get through it. I wanted to die... in it. And then my mom, she said that grief is like a suitcase that sits at the bottom of your bed. And no matter what, without fail, you have to pick it up every day, take it with you. Some days, it will be filled with rocks, and you won't think you can carry it. And then other days... light as a feather. That, she said, is "getting through it." 



I don't think I took a breath through that whole scene. Afterwards I sat there and sobbed. I haven't stopped thinking about it since. 

It's true. I carry a suitcase, everyday. I feel the weight of grief. 

The real kicker is, on the days my suitcase feels lighter the next day I feel like I have two suitcases. Not just grief, but guilt as well. Because the truth is, there are now days that pass that I don't cry. There are days I'm happy. I laugh. I go fun places. I enjoy my life. But then, I feel this enormous weight of guilt. I feel guilty for being happy. I feel guilty for enjoying myself. I feel guilty that I'm here and she is not. I feel guilty that I am not allowing myself to continuously suffer, day in and day out.

I allow myself to feel these emotions. To experience what grief feels like. What guilt feels like. I can sit quiet as they resonate with me. I reflect, I process and I  push through. I do not let them consume me. It is a lesson, and I'm learning everyday.

I've learned so much about myself in the past year. I am more sensitive then I've ever been, and yet somehow I'm stronger then I ever imagined I could be. 

I wake up everyday and I pick up my suitcase. 
Some days it's heavy, and some days it's light but I'm "getting through"