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Tag Archives: broken heart

survivor_you recognize one.jpg

Once you begin to use your humanity and empathy to look around you, you discover that those whom you love – as a friend, sister, neighbor, coworker, or other souls that you connect with – you recognize that you are both survivors and that is a connection of strength and acknowledgement.

Trauma comes in many different forms and scars form around our hearts.  No matter how positive we are or how “perfect” we try to be, there is no such thing.  Life brings us highs and lows; we experience feelings and scenarios that we never expected.  There is no vindication or justice.  Whether it is addressed in the world to come, or through Karma, or the passage of time…… our pain is real and the feelings that we have attached to our particular situation.

To anyone who is trying to continue to be strong, we feel our pain deeply at times when we face it head on.  Many may avoid it through different means and masks to stop feeling.  Others, need support for those times that they are dragged under in deep emotion, longing, despair, or perceived weakness.

True survivors, and those who continue to learn from their struggles and challenges, have learned that a trial by fire can enlighten.  We can lessen pain for someone else by sharing ours, or empathizing as no other can, by our shared humanity.

We know what it feels like to be estranged, traumatized, abused, mistreated, suffer, grieve, mourn, and experience loss in a myriad of ways.  Each time, it feels as if someone has asked us to remove a limb, a solid piece of our beating heart that feels as if it will never return or regenerate to make us whole again.

But, we can fill the spaces, however temporarily, by reaching out to another and acknowledging their fight and survival without diminishing it or labeling it.  We can merely hold their heart in our hands for a few moments and help to carry the too-heavy load for just awhile so that they do not have to walk alone.

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Thank you for stopping by.  I hope that you enjoy your visit.

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grief is not a disorder

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thanks for stopping by! it means more than you know.
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grieving heart

I found myself being silly, making a joke, a suffused bubble of light inside of me as I laughed. Then I felt guilty. That is how I know that I am still mourning mightily.

For anyone who is mourning and grieving, laughter and joy are still tightly intertwined with guilt and sadness. Our emotions are twisted like the ribbons of a thousand balloons.

We want to be happy, and laugh, we really do. But, a piece of our heart is missing and sometimes it affects our breathing, making it impossible to do so. Part of the oft repeated refrain is that our loved ones would want us to be happy. Yes, in a rational world, that has not been turned upside down with grief, that makes sense. However, there is nothing rational about grief.

It has no time limit. It does not travel in a straight path. It meanders, going up and down, peeking behind dark corners, causing an anxiety attack when and where you least expect it. Grief is a Rebel.

It colors everything we say or do, or how the world looks to us in our gray tinted lenses. Visions appear and then tears blot them into lost Monet paintings, colors running downward, and away, from us. Grief is an Artist.

You play all the right music and watch all the right movies. You seek out comedy and avoid terrible news stories. You try to think about something else or focus on someone else. Then you have a trigger… Today, someone told me about their sister-in-law’s passing at the age of 47. She left behind 11 orphaned children. Instantly, I was sucked back into the vision and heartache of children and grandchildren growing up without the rare and brilliant love of a mother. Grief is a vacuum.

You plan happy occasions and pick out special gifts or foods. Decorations are carefully planned and stockings are hung with care. Suddenly, you realize that it is all gone; nothing is really there, it is but an elaborate illusion. With a wave of a hand and a toss of the head, it all vanishes into thin air. We are stricken tiny and mute. Nothing is really as it seems. Grief is a magician.

A year ago, everything was the last. Each holiday, each photograph, each family occasion was the last. This year, everything is the first; the first of many without. With everything it has taken away, Grief has only given me one thing: the painful depth and true understanding of another’s endless mourning.

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