Also published on Widow's Voice:
There are many days, weeks and months that the grief that was born after Jeff's death has crippled me. Days that no matter what I do, the sadness and loss steal over me and infect every thought and movement with pain. Weeks where I can feel nothing but the ache that has accompanied this journey and months in which the sorrow manages to reek despite all my attempts to banish it.
But I also have days where I am stuck, floating, unsure of any feeling at all. I know the pain lurks somewhere below. I am aware that I am hurting and broken. But I am unable to feel.
When the topic of Jeff's death comes up for the millionth time to some stranger, I rattle off the 'statistics' of his death with stoic, eery calm. Often, the listener is in tears as I stare at them with the eyes of an emotionless observer - head cocked and wonder why they are so sad. I am a Vulcan.
For some reason unknown to me the painful stabs of loss don't slice away at my heart at these times. I feel like an automaton moving and functioning but without a heart. I wonder if something is 'wrong' with me. I worry that people will mistake my bland and expressionless face for uncaring. I feel guilt for not feeling.
Is this a 'normal' part of grief? Do others have these moments where pain, and happiness, escape them? Is this is way to give my heart a rest? I'm not sure.
I do I know that I relish and abhor these moments simultaneously. To not have to hurt is bliss. But to not be able to feel sucks.
Who would ever think that I would wish for pain?
There are many days, weeks and months that the grief that was born after Jeff's death has crippled me. Days that no matter what I do, the sadness and loss steal over me and infect every thought and movement with pain. Weeks where I can feel nothing but the ache that has accompanied this journey and months in which the sorrow manages to reek despite all my attempts to banish it.
But I also have days where I am stuck, floating, unsure of any feeling at all. I know the pain lurks somewhere below. I am aware that I am hurting and broken. But I am unable to feel.
When the topic of Jeff's death comes up for the millionth time to some stranger, I rattle off the 'statistics' of his death with stoic, eery calm. Often, the listener is in tears as I stare at them with the eyes of an emotionless observer - head cocked and wonder why they are so sad. I am a Vulcan.
For some reason unknown to me the painful stabs of loss don't slice away at my heart at these times. I feel like an automaton moving and functioning but without a heart. I wonder if something is 'wrong' with me. I worry that people will mistake my bland and expressionless face for uncaring. I feel guilt for not feeling.
Is this a 'normal' part of grief? Do others have these moments where pain, and happiness, escape them? Is this is way to give my heart a rest? I'm not sure.
I do I know that I relish and abhor these moments simultaneously. To not have to hurt is bliss. But to not be able to feel sucks.
Who would ever think that I would wish for pain?
4 comments:
Yes. You explained it so well. I do believe that it is to give our hearts a rest, or they might just give out. At least that's how I feel about it. I'm in need of one of those breaks about now...
I think thats a normal part of the grieving process, not making it better but you are dealing...I would worry if you didn't care if you dont feel. I think AR is right, your hearts taking a rest. Your mind heart and body have thier own timetable...I'll shut up as I KNOW, nonn words can help. I wish you peace
I know what you mean - and I've even had one or two people comment something like, 'How come I'm the one crying and you're not?!'
Sometimes I even almost 'try' to cry so that it won't seem weird that I'm not.
Then, there are the times when I'm not expecting to cry at all, someone says one simple thing to me, and boom. I can't help the tears.
Such a strange thing . . .
~C~
In my experience, that emotionless state is common. I think its what saves you when your mind/heart just finally decide they've had enough for a while. You mustn't feel guilty. Your mind/body is doing exactly what it needs to do.
When you're sick, your body makes you sleep. Grief is no different.
Go easy my friend, go easy.
Hugs.
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