contradictions of grief

 t/w death and grief 


It doesn’t take losing a loved one or going through grief to appreciate the concept that loss is incredibly painful. But whilst that pain of loss may be the crux of grief, I’ve found it’s the thousands of ripple effects of it which are most misunderstood, and because of its taboo nature, often go unsaid. 


The pain experienced in the face of missing a loved one from the realisation that you will never see them again is limitless, yet this year I’ve lived, loved, and even laughed, much more deeply than ever before. This contradictory aspect of grief amplifies its complexity, making it incomprehensible to those who have never experienced it. Even as someone who has been through it, it is still often impossible to understand. 


 

You only need to look at nature to know that juxtaposing sensations can not only coexist, but also complement each other (rain and a rainbow for example), however feeling multiple emotions simultaneously is something I’ve never experienced before this year and it has definitely taken me a while to get my head around it. 


Here are some of the dichotomous ways I’ve found my grief has manifested from the last 10 months.


independent vs dependent 

I have matured so much and I know I need to work through it myself, yet I have never felt more childlike with the need to be looked after. Have needed to take time for myself this year more than ever but have never needed my friends more.


alone but loved 

I have never felt more alone and different, yet have been showered with so much love and support. I'd do anything for others to understand what I'm going through, yet I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.


lucky and bitter

I have never felt more blessed and grateful for what I have, and have experienced the best of life this year through the kindness of others. Yet I can't help but feel it’s so unfair.


zestful and drained

I have a new zest for life and a valuable perspective that life is too short and it’s so important to live fully every day, yet I have needed days to not do anything at all.


guilt and acceptance

I feel guilty about moving forward into a new life and being happy without him, but I know he wouldn’t want my life to stop. 


appreciating the silver linings 

So many incredible things have happened this year that wouldn’t have had life been normal which I’m so thankful for, but I'm not grateful for the reasons behind them. 


scared and comforted

I find seeing him in dreams too emotional yet I take so much comfort in visualising him and hearing his voice. 


disconnected but longing

Feeling so disconnected from who I was before it happened, yet I'd do anything to be her. Before this year I always viewed memories and nostalgia as a positive thing but now looking back on the past feels too heavy.  


concept of time

I’m not going to miss 2024 at all and am ready to move forward from it, yet the more time passes the further away I get from when he was alive and from the girl who knew him. I have an urge for life to feel normal again but want to stay in the grief bubble forever.



Normally I would have inserted a dark humour joke by now so apologies for the weight of that, I am genuinely okay (especially off the back of getting Glastonbury tickets), but hopefully that provided some insight and understanding. 


Albeit only 4 posts, I wanted to thank everyone who has been so kind about this blog. I’m taking some time off to travel, whilst navigating our first Christmas, New Year, and deathiversary, but I really do appreciate everyone who has been kind enough to have said something. 


The way that my grief has evolved this last year is definitely not something that could be articulated in a mere blog post. I don't even think a combination of the Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter series, and Bible length wouldn’t even cut it. But one of the many reasons for my incessant journalling and blogging, is to use them as a way to account for a turbulent, heavy, yet abundant year that I wouldn’t be surprised if I looked back on in years to come with a hazy memory. 


Aside from using it as an outlet, writing brings me such great comfort as it is a way for me to feel close to my Dad. He was a writer, and although it is ironic that only now that he is gone I feel I have so much more to say, the connection I feel to him through this writing is testament to the fact that just because they die, the love and relationship never does- a sentiment that has carried me through this year.


Admittedly, this isn’t an entirely altruistic blog, however it is a profoundly heartwarming bonus that others enjoy reading it, whether you’re morbidly curious and nosey (we’ve all been there), have smiled at a dark humour joke, or have felt less alone in your grief after reading it, I’m truly grateful for all the support so thank you so much. 


As the dark Winter months and holiday cheers are upon us, I’m thinking of everyone who may not feel too festive. Be kind to yourself and others, and thank you so much for reading.


Lots of love, Ruby

:)

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