Grief is excruciatingly lonely. Death, loss and endings. Your life shrinks, sometimes a little and sometimes a lot. It is all lonely. Check ins stop. Much sooner than one would expect. Way too soon for what one needs. People forget what the griever is constantly reminded of. You are gone. People are busy. You are gone. People are just getting by sometimes. You are gone. People are too busy just getting by and they forget you are grieving. You are gone.
"Fuck loneliness!" I say to no one. So much of me doesn't want to talk about it anymore and also remember when my baby died and I became the harbinger of doom? When every wedding, baby shower, joyful event that extended me an invitation was also reminded that grief happens. When even small talk would find its way back to death to endings to grief. I brought it up again, fuck! It would be easier to be lonely than to take up space and grieve.
Grief is so goddamn lonely. I could probably have a rally around my rage. You wouldn't think so, but when it makes sense to be enraged, people show up for it. Encourage it even. Maybe because it is intense, loud and exhausting. It burns bright and burns out. Grief is expansive and deep and uncomfortable. If there is validation to grieve, it is time sensitive. Do it, do it now and let me know when you are done. When you are done grieving, let me know.
Hello loneliness, grief let you in. Death, loss and endings and now Grief is here. I reach out because check ins stopped. They stopped way sooner than I expected. Way sooner than I needed. I can talk about my confusion, my anger, my rage. I am voiceless in my grief. People forget. You are gone. People don't know how to talk about it. You are gone. It is easier to be lonely than to take up space and grieve. You are gone. Grief is so goddamn lonely.
