what is the hardest part about grieving
Grief isn’t just sadness.
It’s nausea. Rage. Jealousy. Confusion.
It’s screaming in your car and then smiling politely in the grocery store 10 minutes later.
The hardest part about grieving?
It’s not the loss.
It’s how it messes with your mind.
No one told me I’d wake up angry at pregnant women.
Or that seeing a baby in a stroller
could make me feel like I couldn’t breathe.
They didn’t tell me that I’d have panic attacks
in public places. Or that i’d have to practically run
out of the dollar tree because I almost punched
a woman for being mean to her toddler.
I called her an ungrateful b$tch because she kept complaining about him and saying mean things to him.
I couldn’t help my rage.
I never knew that I’d feel guilt
for smiling again too soon.
And guilt for not smiling when I “should.”
That I’d have PTSD from the trauma of his birth.
No one told me how my body would flinch when I walked past the room where the crib was supposed to be (the one that i got rid of immediately after he passed away).
Or that I’d have dreams of holding him, only to wake up and feel the full-body absence all over again.
No one told me I’d feel broken when someone said, “You’re so strong.”
Because I didn’t feel strong.
I felt like I was dying in slow motion.
I was furious when someone said that to me.
Because I didn’t want to be strong.
Could I be weak? could I be broken?
Would that bring my baby back?
No one told me I’d be terrified to get
pregnant again, but just as terrified to NOT.
And sometimes…
Sometimes I had terrible thoughts.
Not because I wanted them. But because my brain was trying to make sense of something that made no sense.
That’s what trauma does.
It fractures your timeline.
It warps your logic.
It turns you into a stranger.
And worst of all,
It is so, so quiet in other people’s eyes.
But in your body, it’s LOUD. Every day.
So if you’re in it, if this is your now,
You’re not crazy. You’re not weak.
You’re grieving in a world that
doesn’t know how to hold it.
But I see you.
And your pain is real.
Even the parts you never say out loud.
🖤
Grief is a multifaceted emotion that many people experience, yet it remains one of the least discussed topics in society. When faced with loss, emotions can range from profound sadness to overwhelming rage. It's essential to recognize that grieving is not a linear journey; it often includes moments of anger towards others or guilt over your feelings. Many may find themselves questioning their strength, particularly when others acknowledge their resilience. In addition to emotional turmoil, physical reactions can manifest, such as panic attacks or an intense emotional response to everyday situations that once seemed trivial. This unpredictable nature of grief can lead to feelings of isolation and confusion as you navigate life post-loss. People often overlook the impact of trauma on grief. When you suffer a loss, especially in a traumatic manner, it can alter your mental landscape permanently. The idea of what life would have been—like dreaming about holding your loved one—can become a painful reminder of what is no longer there. Moreover, societal expectations often compound the difficulties of grieving. Friends and family may not fully understand the depth of your pain or the ways it manifests, which can lead to feelings of inadequacy and loneliness. Healing is a gradual process, and each person's journey is unique. Thus, it's vital to seek support, whether that comes from therapy, support groups, or understanding friends. Grief is a signal that love and attachment have deeply impacted your life, and honoring those feelings is a crucial step toward healing. Remember, it's okay to grieve in your way and at your pace, and acknowledging the complexities of emotions can lead to growth and understanding in the long term.
I lost my oldest daughter to placenta previa in 1968 and I still think about her every day. it's none ending.