It was C.S. Lewis in his work, A Grief Observed, who said “No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear. I am not afraid, but the sensation is like being afraid.”
And he’s right, it is very much like being afraid. You aren’t scared per se, but it definitely feels like fear. And that is something that has confused me these last 13 and a half years, what grief sometimes feels like.
No one ever told me that grief felt so like…
Anger- why am I so angry all the time? Who am I even angry with, is it me, her, God? How dare the world carry on, do they not know? Eurgh, I wish the world would carry on and stop looking at me.
Hunger- maybe this time if I eat and fill the void, the hole, the empty… it might work.
Anxiety- why am I in pain? Am I dying? Is everyone else going to leave me?
Tiredness- I just need the world to stop, so I can sleep for a week… and then i can do it again
Depression…pain… joy… drunkenness… madness… love… being skinned alive… darkness…
Like everything and nothing all at once.
And I’m still confused, still shocked, still wrong footed- weekly- by my grief. But that means I’m still learning, that it’s still growing and evolving, like my relationship with her would have been. And that, in itself, is a confusing comfort.