Grief is a strange companion, omnipresent with gentle days of silent mourning. Other times she overwhelms me and assumes control of my mind, body and spirit. Taking me to places I don’t want to go, reliving memories bittersweet, and drawing the tears from me like the worst monster I can imagine.
Those days are the hardest, when I have no control, when I can not function in the “real world” to afraid everyone will see me out of control, seemingly insane. It’s these days I spend alone, in torment, pain, and debilitating sorrow.
Grief brings with her all your demons, doubts, insecurities, and fears, unleashing them all in an onslaught the greatest of generals would envy. When she pauses I am left embattled, exhausted, and shell shocked, wondering when she will unleash her fury once more.
I stay in battle for as long as I can, knowing its the only way to survive, but sometimes I give in to distraction just to ease the pain.
Grief is indeed a strange companion. I am on a journey with her that seems never-ending. She has knocked me down more than once but we continue our walk together. Someday I know I will walk with her in silence and gratitude.
These days it is easy to be reminded of one’s past, both good and bad. The images of our lives are literally in the palm of our hands, on our cell phones. Facebook greets us with it’s “Facebook memories” to remind us of what we posted on this date in years past. There are digital records of all our blogs, posts, chats, and messages.
Having a picture flash across the screen, whether or not the picture itself is awkward or sad, can trigger a flashback for someone with PTSD, or provoke profound sadness in the grief-stricken.
I know I control this technology. I can turn off Facebook’s memories, and choose when and where to review my photo’s or chats, but I haven’t implemented any such controls because I haven’t decided how I feel about it yet.
Maybe today is meant to be the day I see the picture I posted two years ago of my beloved pet. Maybe this particular memory is another facet in the continuing journey of grief. Maybe todays feelings, however they are brought out, are in preparation for more intense feelings to come; and might temper PTSD symptoms triggered by tomorrow’s flashback.
Is it algorithms and programming or is it the universe at work? I lean towards the later but suspect it’s a cosmic combination of the two.
And he lay there watching
clouds float by
one by one they merged
changing shape and trajectory
conduits between earth and sky
they have no destiny
unlike he who watches with envy
they simply float by