Living with Loss

As I reflect back on my two week summer break I can see things a little clearer.

Firstly, I had been limping along toward that break for quite some time.  I’d experienced some fresh issues of loss, which had triggered other losses, both of which required my attention.  Neither of which got it.  Instead, I had fallen in to the trap of pushing it to one side to join my pile of ‘stuff’ to be dealt with at some unallocated futuristic date.

Mistake.

Consequently, my failure to turn around and face those losses square on resulted in them doing the jack in the box thing.  I noticed them, I felt them, I used much energy to shove them back down and keep going with all the things that had to be done. But not only did they not go away, they continued to pop back up, lingering in the background as a subtle underlying presence throughout.

And so, when I finally arrived at the much longed for break that I was so desperate for, instead of being greeted with a big fat joy filled holiday high, there was my unprocessed grief.  

The very same grief that I had deluded myself in to thinking I could simply skip over without consequence. 

Even though I know this stuff!

I didn’t recognise it at the time though. 

I wondered why I was feeling rubbish when the sun was shining, the sea was shimmering and all responsibilities were well out of sight.  I felt like my soul was out of sync with my surroundings.

As I was feeling a way that I didn’t want to feel, I tried hard not to feel the way that I didn’t want to feel.

And ended up feeling it even more!

Subsequently, I sought out some quieter spots from which to simply stare out to the great blue sea. It was hard to spot where the great expanse of sea ended and the sky began.  But I found this sea/sky gazing super soothing.

As was the luxury of time to read the book that I never made it to book club to read or discuss.  What an inspiring, amusing and overall uplifting book to indulge in.

I was also able to take immense pleasure from indulging in the most enormous cream tea I have ever laid my eyes let alone my chops on.  I was most disheartened to be unable to manage all the cream.  Obviously I wasn’t 100%.

The mornings saw me resisting the call of the beach for running.  Instead I chose to linger in bed for as long as I could without missing breakfast. I equally relished the chance to get back in to bed early each night too. A treat indeed.

I took leisurely daily walks to the neighbouring beaches complete with drink and newspaper reading breaks en route.

As I reflect back on my experience, I can see that in the run up to the break I had dismissed my feelings for tiredness and in need of a break-ness.  But of course, this assessment of the situation fell flat on its face when the break arrived and this limping feeling sharpened rather than dissipated.

And that is the down side of the increased phases where grief is not so present.  I forget what it feels like.  Just like when a physical problem arises then when it’s healed you forget all about it.  I had enjoyed long enough without the grief to forget what it felt like. I had been too busy enjoying life to even want to spot the grief returning.  Again.

Plus, after several months of feeling content, to suddenly feel that creeping sadness, felt worse than when the sadness was a regular feature.

I hate grief.

Or rather, I hate that when I fail to recognise and respond to it, I begin to lose my joy.

I especially hate being on holiday minus my joy.  And this holiday most definitely did not qualify for my most light hearted or jovial of coastal retreats!

Yet as I reflect, I realise that whilst I was disappointed to be accompanied by my grief on holiday, it also forced me to slow down and have the break that I needed if not the break that I wanted.

Post holiday as I acknowledged the grip of my grief, I was able to speak to those that I needed to help me to bear it.

Following a week that provided a banquet of friendship and nourishment that went far beyond my body and supported me to release the backlog of unshed tears, I gradually began to recover my mojo.

Halleluyah!

It seems so clear to me now that every time I try to ignore my grief, I succeed only in prolonging my suffering, delaying my healing and interrupting the flow of joy.

Maybe next time I’ll deal with my sorrows as they arise rather than postpone them until the holidays!

Then again, maybe I’ll need reminding again!