Observations on Grief

cold and dead while still alive

Grief is such an odd bedfellow. People try to characterize it. They say it is this way or that way. It is no way and all ways all at once. There is no box that can ever cage Grief. It is the wild stallion of the pantheon of emotions, running free throughout the fields of eternity.

Grief is a drug. I've used it for days on end when someone Ive known has died, months even. It became the pile of kindling that I used to fuel the fires of substance use I already had raging inside of me. Then, upon the passing of a solar circuit, I would take hold of the grief once more like a person with substance use challenges searching for their next fix.

Grief, when left unchecked, will make a person completely lose themselves. Ethical and moral standards thrown right out the window. To the point that collateral damage can occur. When I began my work as a Peer, I assisted in the creation of a training for formerly incarcerated individuals. During brainstorming, I said "In order to survive, I had to become a person I never thought I'd be." Grief takes away the choice we have if we let it. Grief turns us into a person we never thought we would become no matter our current station in life.

Grief can also permanently rewire our brain. It can dampen or shut off natural, human emotional responses. I know. I have been subject to this. Because of therapy, I am a fraction better today however, for the most part, I can't cry anymore. If tears come, it is but seconds. All that really exists is a profound heaviness that feels as if you have a second body encompassing your frame. An abyssal sadness.

I came to the realization recently that not only did I retraumatize myself, yearly, with my incapability to walk through my Grief, I weaponized it to feed my self-pity through encroaching upon others inviolable bodies to feel sorry for and pity me.

Truthfully, I had no idea that was the case at the time and, looking back, I wish someone would have just grabbed me and shook the fuck out of me and told me to snap out of it. I was a ship lost at sea crafted from the memory of my deceased loved ones. Hull, mast, sail, keel and rudder crafted from Grief.

Today, as a Satanist and person recovered from self-injurious practices at the hands of substance use, I have to remember that my personal sovereignty and power provide me the foundation upon which to stand tall, acknowledge and celebrate the impact with which someone who has come to the end of their dash has had on my life and keep going. After all, when looking back their will only ever be "One set of Hoofprints in the sand." Through the dismal, darkest and most troubling times in my life, I kept going. I carried me through. I may have had help, most assuredly, but I also had to get the fuck out of my own way and be accepting of said help. I have to focus more on the gratitude I have for the moments of my life I got to spend with each and every one of the people I have known, in various capacities, that have died. I stopped counting at the 60's. The most recent streak being 17 people in two years.

These moments, the good times and the joyous times, are the only things that matter.

The. Only. Thing.

If any of you that read this only ever learn one thing from me, let it be this: Do not go where i went when it comes to Grief. It will break you. It will turn you into a marionette to do it's bidding and leave you cold and dead while still alive. We only ever have the present moment. Do the most you can with it. Use the past as an encyclopedia within which to gain knowledge on what to do and not do. Learn from it. Use the past to light candles in the halls of your memory to highlight the things in life that have brought you joy, comfort and caused you to smile. Discard the darkness as best you can (i acknowledge there are situations that must be processed or navigated through professional help...if this is necessary, do not hesitate to seek it out). Do not ruminate. This effort is almost always futile. When doing these things, it will create space for your future moments to be all that they can be. LIVE your life.

We have agency in how we let our emotions control how we be in the world. We are the Captains of these meat suits we inhabit while experiencing our dash. We feel our emotions. We should not become our emotions. I recently saw where I allowed myself to become some very ugly emotions. They controlled me. Im not proud of myself for my actions when they were at the helm but, my emotions weren't wrong or incorrect.

Edit: Always trust your gut.