I recently realized I have taken traumatic events that happened in my life and framed them in the language of loss – first the devastation of my world and personal balance with my husband John’s illness and death, and before that, the extreme heartbreaking changes endured after Hurricane Katrina.
What other language would I use besides the language of loss? That’s what it was. Massive, messy, soul-rearranging loss.
Can I re-frame it as life goes on? Yes.
Maybe.
I don’t know.
Getting through grief is a lot like getting out of a car or house in a flood. “Do not think of your self as a victim but a survivor” they tell you. Frame your actions with that thought. If you end up in the water, pull up your feet so you don’t get caught on the dangers underneath, roll, and let the river carry you. It’s mightier than thou. Don’t fight it. When you can, swim for safety. If you spend precious energy flailing, it’s wasted energy. Your energy must be purposeful.
It’s survival we’re talking about here, after all.
I have floated a lot. I have flailed a lot. I have failed a lot. Especially at this recovering from loss thing.
Grief assassinated my former self, blew my heart apart in slow-motion Technicolor and mercilessly beat on my weak spots. It even weakened my strong spots for a few years.
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