- Intense sorrow, especially caused by someone’s death
See sorrow, misery, sadness, anguish, pain, distress, agony, torment, affliction, suffering, heartache, heartbreak, woe, desolation, despondency, dejection, despair, angst, mortification…
Had I known what real intense grief felt like before having to actually deal with it, I probably would have thrown myself off of a cliff. A very tall one with a very deep ocean. Nothing can compare to the deep throbbing pains, the mind melting rage and the feeling that your luck has flirted out of the window, never to be found. You’re stuck in the bottom of a deep cave, there’s no light and slowly but surely, you can feel that all-consuming sensation that any ounce of oxygen is dissipating as you spell out carbon dioxide and slowly pass out. Only, I wish you did reach a certain point and just pass out because it would make the whole thing a little more sufferable.
A part of me wishes to say that there is hope. Occasionally there is a smidgen of it, but it seems to fade before you can focus and once again, just like being hoofed in the chest by an angry shire horse, you’re on your back gasping for air and struggling to ascertain what way is up and which way is down. It could be a picture, a thought, a word or a dream (nightmare). But something comes back to you and it doesn’t just haunt you but it grips you tight.
The past few weeks have been rough. I think I let myself put too much expectation on 2018 being a better year, and though it can’t beat the lows of last year, it certainly is trying. Dealing with insensitive and arrogant family members, the endless ream of rejection letters, having to give up job opportunities to fall back into being a full-time Carer, and seeing that finish line of happiness move further away is going to make an impact. Just the very fact one of the mud flaps on the Defender has suddenly gone M.I.A. sends me over the edge because it’s just something else to add to my to-do list. When really, I’d like to erase that list, turn in to bed and not wake up for another decade or so. At the minute I’ve reached that awful point of not wishing to wake up at all.
A few nights ago, the pain peaked, and my feelings of isolation, loss and torment followed in pursuit to overcome me. And it worked. Worked to a fashion that I had to do something I haven’t done in years in order to make it through the horrendous stabbing pains of anxiety in my chest. I had to self-harm. I had to feel that scratching pain to distract me from the overwhelming ache in my heart. And what’s worse is that, I enjoyed it. I still do. That feeling of ache in my arm and the uncomfortable irritation under my jumper.
I desperately don’t want to be this broken. I hate feeling submissive to everyone, feeling cornered and awaiting attack by some enormous animal, unable to stand up for myself. It’s not that I want to die, it’s just right now, I’m not sure how to live. I feel subservient to everyone around me and the one person that felt the same and whom I found solace in, is gone. And he can never come back.
Is that grief? The feeling of intense loneliness, of having someone understand every inch of your soul be there, and then you watch them leave this earth right in front of your eyes. And as the months go by, they move further and further away from you. And all that is left, is an empty shell. Your empty shell. The silence that consumes you, the despair but even worse the indifference of hope, and trying to ascertain your purpose, because, why can you go on? I wish there were more answers.
I desperately hope there was just something. A shred of something that could make me genuinely inspired to keep faith. I guess just like any storm I have to wait it out and pray that I survive. That this passage of grief, of life and death doesn’t completely drag me under the surface, never to be found again.