So often I have heard, “How do I go on”, “how will I get through this”, I have even uttered, screamed these same words myself . How do we go on, the sad fact is I don’t have the answer. I think its different for every person out there, and we get to choose how we move on. How we get through these hard times, these rough patches, has no real solid answer for us as a whole. We just do, at first you live on autopilot. You wake up every day and you tell yourself today you will get out of bed, you will then feed the dog, then take a shower, it becomes almost methodical; done without conscious thought, like when you get home from work without any memory of the drive. The old saying that time is the ultimate healer really has some validity to it. With time some things do get easier, and your able to laugh and then you feel bad for laughing, guilt for being happy. But the truth is that its our own selves that hold onto the past, we create our own prisons, we feed our own demons, we choose to stay in what is comfortable; to some this is the darkness of their own minds, trapped in the thoughts they create or pretending things didn’t happen, instead pushing them further and further into the recesses of their subconsciousness; and for others its giving their feelings a voice, singing or writing about them, but ultimately it is time that forces us to heal, for the hardest part of grieving is watching the world go on.
The universe will always finds a way of humbling us, to bring us into ourselves, find our true nature, our strength. For me it was stripping me of my security like when your parents throw away your old blanket that smells of childhood. My relationship, my father, my car, job security, the comfort of home, my soft grey fur baby. Sometimes the level of sadness in me is still so great and depression my old friend comes by for a visit. Silently I continue to struggle with accepting that my life will never be the same and I carry the burden of reconstructing myself piece by piece, finding the true nature of all of my parts and trying to fit them together to make the complete puzzle that is me. I no longer have the comfort and security of the life I had before. I no longer have my father, for the plain comfort a father can bring or to help me through my rough patches. Night has become a place of unsettled anxiety, I wake up every night at 4 am heart racing, gasping for breathe feeling such an immense sense of fear. Afraid of what is coming next, what else the universe is going to take from me. For the universe will always call back what is no longer necessary.
The universe will demand its due, how it is chosen to pay her is not always our choice, but how we choose to survive, to heal, and go on is. I don’t know what separates the survivors from the ones who cannot, the strong from the weak. Survivors just do, they realize they have no other choice but to go on. I don’t think its a lack of something for the ones who cannot move on and heal, it is sometimes the ability to feel too much, the overwhelming sense of losing oneself to the grief, the fear, the sadness. For some that is just too much to bear, so they hide in the prison of their minds, wrap themselves in the darkness and lose the hope that is needed to start a path towards healing. I think having a support structure, arms to hold you up when you are weak and those who sing your song back to you when you have forgotten the words is vital. I hope for every soul who is hurting and broken, covered in grief to choose to find the light that is illuminating their path instead of wrapping themselves in the darkness. I know the comfort that the darkness can bring, how it can suck you in so deep that the path out is hidden, so… I say, always bring a flashlight….