Refusing to Hide the Pain

It will be two weeks tomorrow.  I've been powering through.  I had a busy week at work and have another busy week ahead.  Work is clearly a good distraction as I have been doing pretty well this week.

And then yesterday hit.  And so did the flood of emotions.  I tossed and turned all night last night, waking up several times from death related dreams.  For a body that has wanted to badly to sleep, this morning it was wide awake at 4:00am.

I can't digest food.  I don't have the energy to work out.  I feel like my body is betraying me.  When in reality it is holding my grief for me.  And grief is heavy. And my body is working so hard to carry this.  I feel it in every bone. 

There is a large part of me that wants to put on a smile and tell everyone that I'm doing well.  That's my go-to.  That's how most of us do grief really.  But that doesn't serve me, or anyone else, well.  I promised that I'd be transparent throughout this process and that promise repeats itself in my head when I want to pretend all is well.  

That doesn't mean I'm not well.  It just means that some days (hours...moments) are harder than others.  And I won't hide this pain.  I know people don't like to see it, but if we all continue to hide the pain and the experience that is grief, we just continue to force it into the shadows and then none of us are allowed an authentic experience.  And when one doesn't understand the work (and beauty) that is grief, it makes the experience all that more difficult.

Many of my clients look at me, and question out loud if it's okay to talk about their stuff when I'm in the midst of my own.  And my answer is a resounding YES!  Because, the reality is, I often have my own stuff.  They just don't know about it most the time.  We all have "stuff" in this journey of life.  But because I've chosen to be so vocal about this process, right now people are seeing and hearing about this particular "stuff" in various ways.  That doesn't change my ability to do my job.  Because I love my job.  And honestly, because I'm speaking, because I'm feeling all of this, I can work when I need to work and I can fall apart when I need to fall apart.  That's healthy.  It's when we try to hold it all in that grief will sneak up and grab our attention at inopportune times.  

I know that I can fall apart when I need to.  I don't like it.  I would like to believe that it won't happen.  After a few good days, I can convince myself that I've made my way through the worst of it.  And then the emotions come flooding in again.  And I just have to feel them.  That is all I have to do when they come.  I don't have to understand them or analyze them and I certainly don't have to stop them.  I just have to feel them.  

And then take another step forward.  Walking over one metaphorical hot coal at a time.