Alone inside a crowded room, different among those who we were similar yesterday.
Screaming but silent.
… Broken from the core and never really understanding “what next”.
It is easy to polish and stand up tall for the sake of “getting through”. But, the let down in our shoulders when the game is over, and we do not have to pretend anymore….. That is when the wax peels away and shows the true pain.
Isolation in a crowded room is painful.
Isolation in an empty room is painful.
Isolation. Is. Painful.
We go through the period when we have more support then we know what to do with. It changes and people return to their lives. They continue to look and monitor – and some even judge our grief process. The support changes, in some cases, from positive to negative.
Our grief is compared to another’s grief. People place timetables on us and expectations of how we should act, how we should be better OR how we should be sadder.
We find that we are different now.
The balance of conversations turn silent from both sides, not sure what is right or just plain sick of it.
We find ourselves inside not only a personal struggle but victim to a society that does not understand or do enough to stop hopelessness. We feel defeated. We feel “how could this have happened in my life”?
Fog clears. Shades open. Colors get brighter. Laughs get louder and more frequent. We start to do better for ourselves, on our own timetable.
We start to put pieces together.
We go back to isolation, less frequent, more aware, and with a new appreciation not only for our life – but for the time we spend with ourselves,
Written by Leslie Beery, The Surviving Project