Swimming in Jello

At some point in grief, people will seek help. It might be a friend that has a similar experience, a widow/widower group, church programs, grief counseling, books, ANYTHING to try and make sense of the chaos and get a grip on reality. It might be immediate or it might take years but it is inevitable in the process of grief.

My first attempt was a grief group that I had attended when my mom died in 2012. I had tried for a year after David died to do this grief thing on my own and finally realized maybe I needed to be around other people that understood. I actually did the class twice because I am either a slow learner or just needed somewhere to be. Either way I felt better but had a long way to go. They even asked me if I had thought about being a facilitator since I was so caring and helpful to the others in the group. Hello? Have you met me? I am 50 shades of screwed up right now!! So I politely declined and moved on.

My second attempt was books since I love to read. Books about going through grieving, not grieving, stuck in grief, overcoming grief, and on and on and on. I actually did read some good books I could recommend and even though I feel better I am still here: grieving. That is actually when I got the “nudge” to blog and maybe help others while helping myself. This has proven to be very time consuming but here I am. Hmmmm….it would have been faster and easier to have facilitated the meetings above. See? Slow learner!!

My latest attempt has been therapy and it seems to be my favorite so far. I define therapy as “paying someone to listen to you process your life out loud while they nod as you fix your own issues because they sound really different when you say them out loud.” My therapist does chime in once in a while to ask me difficult questions that I do not have answers to, so I spend the two weeks in between sessions pondering the questions and trying to change what has been broken for years. But I am a people pleaser and I do not want to disappoint her so I am working on the following things: not being a people pleaser, expressing anger, putting myself first, being my own biggest fan. She even suggested that I write a blog or start a group to help others that are grieving. Really?? I see what’s going on here, God is speaking to me in the three sign minimum I require to hear what HE is trying to say. Yes, He already knew I was a slow learner. Okay Lord, I am writing now….

Which brings me to the reason for this post. Most of the help I have attempted uses the word journey, such as “Journey through Grief.” I realize journey simply means getting from one place to another but I have always thought of a journey as fun or adventurous! Grief has been neither of these for me.

So I started coming up with more accurate titles for my journey and each year it has changed ever so slightly. The first year I would describe my journey as “Swimming in Jello While Dodging the Spoon of LIfe” or “Treading Quicksand When You Don’t LIke Dirt Between Your Toes.” If you have experienced the fog brain aspect of grief you know it is very real. It is your brain protecting you from the depths of a traumatic event or loss in your life. It will clear sometimes and then you are back there and the jello has changed from light orange to dark red. And the spoon whacks you in the head so there’s that.

The second year my grief turned from swimming to climbing. Yep, the second year felt like an uphill climb to nowhere. I started making progress, feeling bouts of happiness and joy. I felt like I had made it to the top and was on my way down the other side. However, when I climbed over that last ledge and started jumping up and down in victory I discovered I had only gone a short distance or the mountain was growing faster than I could climb. So I not so fondly refer to this journey as “Climbing out of Grief to More Climbing” or “There’s a View at the Top but You Will Never See It” or “It’s Worth the Climb Said No Griever EVER” or “Looking for The Easy Trail, Can You Move the Damn Mountain Already?” Yes this might be a point where I expressed anger and need to share that with my therapist. I’m sure she will be proud (insert eye roll here).

Now here I am coming to the end of the third year and I can honestly say that I no longer feel like jello head or quicksand feet. I am no longer climbing to nowhere or giving up. I am walking on the road to self discovery and it is scary and exciting all at the same time. You see, there comes a point in your journey of grief where you wake up and realize that life is going on without you. It isn’t a happy or sad time, just the reality that you are somewhere in between. In the midst of my widow-ish state of mind I feel that I am at a crossroads of sorts and have to decide which road I am going to take. My choices are simple: stay in sadness where it is familiar and comfortable, or venture on to fulfill whatever my new destiny will be. One is safe and the other unfamiliar. One will keep me treading and climbing to nowhere and the other will eventually make me feel alive again. I am choosing the latter and seeing what is in store for me. I think it is appropriate to title this phase “Coming Out of the Dense Forest to….Who Knows?” or “If you Believe, You Don’t Necessarily Have to See the Road Ahead” or “I’m On the Path to Destiny, How Far is the Nearest Buccee’s?” I hope you stay along for the ride and maybe join me on this new path.

Where are you in your grief? I hope and pray that eventually you will find your new “journey” too. Feel free to share your own title for your grief, serious or fun is up to you!!