Exercises in grief
Jan. 21st, 2024 04:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
flamingswordIt feels like it should be possible to grieve for a couple of hours a day and then turn my feelings off so that I can get things done. But turning them back on is apparently the hard part right now? My brain doesn’t trust me to be safe about grief. So I’m going to think carefully around the edges of this sinkhole in myself, and gently allow my attention to come to the edge. Maybe next post I’ll take my socks and shoes off, let my feet hang into it to feel the chill of the breeze whistling down into this loss of my stable bedrock.
Is it particularly foolish to ground myself into my circle of trust, knowing that I could lose any of my people at any time? I might have to care about that sooner or later. But right now feels like a bad moment for that endeavor.
It feels like it should be possible to switch frequencies back into my feelings. I’m just not getting a good handle on making my brain feel safe enough with the loss that it trusts me to process this instead of drowning in it. 😕 If the focus on other things is part of the process of backing slowly out of my feelings, turning the gain down until it’s off like a lightbulb dimmer switch, then working my way slowly into the cenote of Bat’s absence might be the key to turning back up the volume, tuning back into myself. Maybe a spelunking metaphor goes here instead?
Part of this blockage is also the knowledge that those feelings will still be there waiting for me later. I can trust the process of dealing with grief eventually to not take me away from myself - in a way that I can’t necessarily trust that I won’t get swept away into an underground river of despair, in all its crushing overwhelm, if I keep going back and forth like I have been trying.
Is it particularly foolish to ground myself into my circle of trust, knowing that I could lose any of my people at any time? I might have to care about that sooner or later. But right now feels like a bad moment for that endeavor.
It feels like it should be possible to switch frequencies back into my feelings. I’m just not getting a good handle on making my brain feel safe enough with the loss that it trusts me to process this instead of drowning in it. 😕 If the focus on other things is part of the process of backing slowly out of my feelings, turning the gain down until it’s off like a lightbulb dimmer switch, then working my way slowly into the cenote of Bat’s absence might be the key to turning back up the volume, tuning back into myself. Maybe a spelunking metaphor goes here instead?
Part of this blockage is also the knowledge that those feelings will still be there waiting for me later. I can trust the process of dealing with grief eventually to not take me away from myself - in a way that I can’t necessarily trust that I won’t get swept away into an underground river of despair, in all its crushing overwhelm, if I keep going back and forth like I have been trying.
