My widowed journey has been unique. The timeline delt to me kept me four years from the closure of Clayton’s funeral. This week has felt different, lighter but emotionally dizzy. Most of us deal with all the immediate emotional events within weeks but life decided to stretch mine out and this week I finally feel like I’m completely moving forward without holding on to the widowed wall for stability. In so many ways I felt that I had been drugged by despair. It’s often a theme that I hear from many different grievers so it inspired this week’s blog. I have great respect for the difficulties that drugs and alcohol can have. This comparison is not made to lighten the seriousness of those topics but to try and find some kind of similarity to help shed light on just how hard grief can be to control. If left unchecked, grief itself can become addicting. The first step is admitting it. Second step is to not shame yourself for it. The third step is to take your first step towards helping you. My first 4 years of being widowed felt like one long morning trying to get out of bed…
Year 1 you’re not sure where you are when you wake up the morning after you become widowed.
Year 2 the reality that too much to handle has happened and the pain sets in. Headache, nausea from the realization that you are truly heartbroken. They aren’t coming back. You have to go through this pain without them. It hurts.
Year 3 and everything dulls from sharp pain to a low throb. You try to move forward but your whole life is spinning. You try to make it stop so you put one foot on the floor. The Ferris wheel of feelings starts to wind down, you catch your breath, the double vision is fading and the ground is the first sense of solid you have felt in a long time.
Year 4 and that one firm foot on the floor is your first step in your new journey. You’re beginning to move in the right direction. You gather up whatever strength is left and place your other foot on the floor. In order to move forward you are going to have to stand. You have to take care of yourself before you can do anything for anyone else.
One step then two steps then three more steps toward the bathroom. A quick glance in the mirror then down at your feet – still there under you, you’re still standing. Made it this far so why not one step more? You achieve toothpaste to brush and the cool mint washes away the bad taste in your mouth left behind by bereavement. This simple act of self-care empowers you just enough to step again so you choose the shower – a space held just for you. The warm water washes down the grimy grief and the tears you’re shedding finally feeling first moments of relief.
Towel off and the new air touches your skin. You feel a bit refreshed. You feel a bit renewed. You get a cold glass of widowed water to help flush the feelings. You’ve taken the time you needed to start to detox some of the depression so now you start to recover from this grief hangover….
