If You’re Going Through It

I really went through it the other night. Again.

It’s been over a year since I experienced the most difficult breakup and goodbye of my life.

I’m through the worst of it. The laying on the floor sobbing into the thickest quilts I own. The foggy head and heart. The isolation pretending to be independence. The sudden sadness anywhere and everywhere.

But the other night, just before bed, I felt it again—not quite as strong as a year ago—but the familiar ache settled into my chest.

I pulled the covers up and over my head. I squeezed my eyes shut like the mistakes I made were right there in front of my face instead of burned into my memory.

“How long is this going to take,” I thought. Because I really thought I’d beaten the thing. The heartbreak, I mean.

I guess because I moved I thought that meant I’d moved on.

Foolish is the first word that comes to mind. And maybe because I’d started to date again it meant that I’d be done with it—the heartbreak—even if that first attempt went sour.

But Lee posted this on my covers-over-the-head night as if the universe told her I needed it. I empathized. I didn’t want someone to be in the same boat as me…but I wanted to know that it’s ok to be in that boat, for just a little while at least. I felt the pain in her words, too, and identified with the shattered heart living behind the swollen eyes. I’ve seen it in my mirror more than a few times.

Healing from grief is not linear. I love that, even if I hate going through it.

It’s like this.

the pain.PNG

One day it won’t.

My loss is still very tangible and heavy, but I can only allow it to exist, give it some space to stay, and let it go when it needs. And then move on. It’s a process that’s different for everyone, and not an easy one, either. Slowly, over time, I think the waves will get smaller and less frequent.

I didn’t get much sleep that night but I did everything I could the next day and the following few days to feel better—things that didn’t involve wrapping myself in a duvet burrito.

Instead I did new things.

I make smoothies at work now. It’s so fun. The Vitamix is on another level; it could probably turn car parts into liquid.

^^^ Spinach, carrot, frozen mixed berries, frozen peaches, protein powder, water, ice. BLEND! 

And I’ve been washing my bike at work. Maybe it’s silly but I believe part of self-care is taking care of something else—something that means a lot to you. This bike and being on it brings me so much happiness, and that’s important to me right now. So I really gave her a good scrub down one afternoon. Bonus: there are very few things more therapeutic than scrubbing the hell out of a bike chain…and then the grease from underneath your fingernails.

I watched the snow, too. It really came down the other night, so I parked myself on the floor next to the window and watched it accumulate inch by inch.

I almost didn’t share this because I think I thought I was hurting too much. Like there was a limit on the amount of pain I was supposed to feel and then the time it’s supposed to take to get over it. There’s not. There isn’t.

So I am sharing this post because I want to pass on Lee’s message, especially. I want you to know and believe, if you’re feeling the feels like I was and am, it’ll pass. Maybe it’ll take it’s time and maybe it’ll stick around for a week, but it will see it’s way out. And maybe try doing new things yourself. It’s helping the healing.

Push on, PUSH ANIMALS >>>

4 Replies to “If You’re Going Through It”

  1. YESS girl. You are worlds ahead of some of our peers in accepting that these feelings need to be welcomed and allowed to stay, and then they will leave on their own terms. We cannot run from the grief and if we do it comes back stronger and more painful in other ways. I would tell you I’m sorry you’re hurting, but I don’t want to make it seem like a negative thing. The pain is never fun, but once it becomes that sparkled fleck in a sky of stars it will remind you of how far you’ve come. Love you, hugs.

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