Quote:
Originally Posted by Ascot
In The Wasteland, \ I don't ever laud a grieving person for being so strong in the face of it. When that was said to me as a
teenager, I realize in hindsight, that it became a great pressure to maintain that impression. It's a burden that ought not be put on anyone.
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This is a great post, thank you for sharing. It's taken years, decades for me to start really grieving because of the above stated sentiments. It was also pressure I put on myself. The oldest. The strongest. The one who knew the answers. The one who dealt with doctors, made decisions, held it together. For all of them. I appreciate that it allowed me to function, to keep going. I took great pride in the holes that the absences left in my heart. I *wanted* to miss them. I quietly gloried in my devotion to being stoic. And now, it has marked me. Paralyzed me in still being "The One". I can't deny that it has made me who I am and provided me with gifts. But it has also made it harder to grieve, harder for anyone close to me to understand when something "hits" me. I have no idea how to move on or not feel the holes anymore. I don't talk about it much, but when it comes up now, because I didn't properly grieve then (which I still only can do on rare occasions, when I piggyback the grief onto something more current), I have no idea how to express it, how to receive support - and now - now I just hope it is seen because I don't even know what to do with it. Actually, I don't even know if I want to do anything with it. The holes have become my dark friends, in places where I wonder if I should have some living, breathing friends.
So - grieve - but also don't let it become your identity, don't exalt it, let it be what it is, but don't fret when one day you forget, or don't think about it. Let the missing become part of your topography, part of your story. But don't grieve forever because you don't know who to be if you're not "The One".