Tuesday 5 June 2018

A Whole Language of Grief

Sunshine roses in Northernhay Gardens on Saturday morning. Taken on my iPhone  - not as good as on my camera but I'm learning that close-ups come out better than long distance and zooming in doesn't work at all.

Northernhay Gardens - long distance.






At a loss for words tonight...probably just too tired. I still don't sleep well. Worse at the moment. I wake in the early hours with everything that I keep at bay during the day buzzing  in my head - a merry-go-round of what ifs ? and how am I going to...?  Scaring myself. I've never had panic attacks but I can understand why they could happen.....ungrounded fears taking control...as if they were real and not just thoughts.

This morning in the car I listen to the end of a report on Women's Hour about grief and social media....how it has changed the way some people express their grieving.....Vlogs, blogs, FB, Twitter. On the positive side....you can tell a lot of people without having to go through the same pain each time you say it. That your loved one has died. And afterwards people don't have to worry about you if they can read/listen to how you are coping.

On the negative side - and they said it was more the older generation - people like to be told personally with a phone call. I was touched by a story of how it used to be in small towns when someone died.  As a sign of respect all the neighbours drew their curtains and kept them closed till the day the hearse came... and once it had left the street they drew them back. 

The 'moving on' and 'getting over it' are more recent, unhelpful concepts....being replaced now by the idea of 'continuing bonds' ....finding meaningful ways to have a different kind of relationship with your loved one. A whole language of grief. 

But I can find no name that describes the whole hurt of my broken soul.






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