Grief & Loss: Week 1

"Grief is like the ocean, it comes in waves ebbing and flowing. Sometimes the water is calm & sometimes, it's overwhelming. All we can do is learn how to swim." - Vicki Harrison

It's a cold, snowy day here in the North. Bloody miserable.

Between the lack of sleep and cold - I really didn't want to get out of bed. Even my dog were nestled down deep into the blankets, not budging at the word "outside." But, I had made a commitment. My social anxiety was screaming down my spine about not going, but I promised my clinician I would go. Social anxiety kept whispering in my ear about how I could theoretically break my promise - that my clinician would understand.

"You don't need this." I'd hear it whisper, "You've dealt with your grief."

I mentally waved the thoughts away in my head, watching them fade out of my immediate thought processes like smoke. Reiterating to myself how it'd be a good thing to learn about regardless if I needed it or not. For weeks before the group even started, that was the battle taking place in my head.

I took comfort in knowing that there would be some familiar faces there, but I still didn't want to go. I got myself ready, and after my chores were complete - I headed off to the clinic to meet with my new mental health group.

After introductions, the facilitator asked us all how we defined loss. I had to think about that for a bit. Loss to me was highly defined in mental and emotional aspects, as well as physical loss. But I wasn't exactly sure how to express this to my peers.

I told the room that death was the only word that came to mind, but it wasn't in the traditional sense I meant it. Over the past few years of my life, I've experienced many deaths that have eventually birthed new versions of myself. There has been mental deaths, emotional deaths, deaths of concepts and aspects of myself, ego death, spiritual death. The death of self in previous forms. Deaths of old habits, deaths of relationships and friendships. My brain kept wanting to talk about my miscarriage, and the child that never was - but, I didn't want to get into discussion quite yet. I'm not ready to. Through all this death, I've rose from the ashes like a Phoenix again and again. Honestly exhausting, but worthwhile.

The conversation then switched into different types of losses. Which turned out to also be an interesting conversation among my peers. While physical loss, self-concept loss, loss of hopes, dreams and social were something I understood - I thought the concept of worldview loss was interesting. I would've initially thought it would've been labelled under self-concept. The loss of innocence, trust, and safety, amongst other things.

I did not expect to hit by a mental and emotional freight train.

I knew that loss and grief could be intensely confusing, but I didn't know that it bled over into so many other aspects of my life or took so many forms. As I heard others around the room speak, about their loss of loved ones - it broke something in me. Though I didn't outwardly show emotion, I realized that it wasn't fully a trauma bond that kept me tethered to people that hurt me. I was grieving who I thought they were, who they are and what those relationships were - the good and bad. Regardless if I got hurt by them. But most importantly...

I learned what I was experiencing was normal.

Well, I wouldn't exactly call missing the people who abused you normal. But I digress.

I was a bit emotional leaving the group that day, but ultimately I'm really glad I went. As the weeks go on, I can not get into too many specific details of what we learned in the group without breaching confidentiality. But I'd like to log my progress, and see how I change over the coming weeks. I will say that I did not expect that I would feel called out by the handouts we were given.

I didn't expect my journey to lead me here. But I'm glad it did.