My fight with grief
When grief greeted me at the door, I did not invite It in. In fact, I did not ask for Its presence either, yet I was unsurprised by Its appearance. It introduced Itself to me, “Hello old friend”, followed by a gentle nod of Its head. It was a gesture customary to greeting another politely, but I felt apprehension only from it.
It was as if It acknowledged my intrinsic understanding that this day would come when we would both meet again. I did not like that one bit. “Hello there”, I candidly replied. “What brings you here at this hour?”, my tone shifting from courteous to stern. It was unphased by that and merely answered me with an implicit smile. I grew tensed.
“Well, it’s a little late for you to be here now, isn’t it?”, I said.
“Come now my friend, if it’s so late, then you must welcome me in. I am keen to catch up with you, it’s been a while since I’ve visited.”, It remarked.
“No, this is not a good time, and I was not expecting company.”, I uttered. “Please leave”, and I began to close the door.
I heard a smack, and the door would not close. It got in the way of me shutting it. "Now hold on my old friend, let’s not be too hasty here.”, said It. “We would not want any accidents or mistakes today.”, It asserted.
I tried to push against It, but was unsuccessful. “Let go or you’ll regret it!”, I warned. With a quick thought, I released my pressure from the door and swung my right arm across. My fist curled and cocked, primed to meet its target. Victoriously, I landed upon It like a hammer to the anvil.
There was a sound that I rarely heard, followed by a sensation around my newly formed fist that I rarely felt. It ached from the impact, and so did I. It did not occur to me that a punch could hurt as much, yet It did not relent. Grief was persistently imploring me to reconsider. “Stop this at once!”, It demanded.
My rage consumed me. I was no longer within reason. “You brought this on yourself! You are not welcome here!”, I yelled. With my two hands, I shoved It out the door. My eyes inexplicably began to well up with some emotion, though all I felt was intensity rising. It was unclear to me what the emotion was. I was simply overwhelmed by it.
Standing at the entrance, I took a step forward and proceeded to grapple with It. It resisted me with great strength, like the towering stature it was. Grabbing me by my waist, I was tossed to the ground by Its firmness. It took the air out of me upon impact on the strangely soft ground. It was ironic in the warmth and comfort I experienced. I was still in pain.
Standing back up, I regained balance. My breath heaved out the cold thin air surrounding us outside. “What do you want?” I muttered in weariness. “Can’t you see I have nothing left to give? No company, no companionship, nothing!” I bellowed, tears falling from my fresh, dirty face.
“I want nothing more than your time”, It calmly responded. “I want nothing more than that.”, It assured me. Here It stood, unwavering, without compromise. It made itself known to me as a necessity. It came forward and hovered over me. I remained in a state of intimidation and sadness. I grieved its presence, and at that moment, I was simply overwhelmed by It.
If you are experiencing grief at this time, you are not alone. You do not have to wrestle with it and struggle. Reach out to us or book online. We will be here for you.
