With the pandemic, people are throwing out the ‘grief’ word in the midst of their struggles, and I get it. Perhaps what we are going through is the closest many of them have gotten to grief. I get it. This pandemic is like grief and it’s what I understand, have understood, for a while now.
I already know the loneliness, the isolation, the inability to hug and kiss. I have the sad familiarity of the boredom, the difficulty in moving, and the pain in all of it. I understand existing versus living. . Worry lived with me and despair crippled me before this world nightmare began. These are not new to me. None of these feelings are new. After my mother died, right at the beginning of the CORVID 19 virus, I couldn’t distinguish if I was feeling the grief for my mother, or the grief for my husband, or the grief for the situation we’re all in, or for all the above.
I’m still reeling from the loss of two important people in my live. Another layer was added to my mourning with the pandemic and all it means. I am now close to the place I started nine months ago. This pandemic, with its isolation and the feeling of impending doom, has stalled my own grief, even set me back. I was starting my climb out grief pit I fell into when Peter died when the CORVID 19 pushed me down a few depths.
I am still with my grief counselor, still in touch with supportive people in m life, but so many questions now run through my mind. How can I expect to be supported when we are all pretty much broken right now? How can I ask to be heard when the static of this virus has deafened us all? How can I possibly say how horrible I am feeling without guilt from knowing everyone is? And how can I presume to get the same support pre-CORVID 19 when we are now all in pain from the same open wound?
I don’t want to be in this deep mourning. I don’t want to live where the pandemic sent me. I don’t want to put more weight into my already heavy grief bag. I don’t want to feel anymore suffering or guilt of selfishness. I don’t want to be stuck here. I don’t want to be stuck in my home, restricted by the pandemic so I can’t heal like I want. And I most certainly don’t want to already be familiar with grief.
Yet, I am. Life has chosen this time in my life to give me more to test the strength of my resolve. Life has teamed up with Death to show me the worse cases scenarios. As I told people over and over, I don’t fear much anymore because I am living my worse. Here it is and there is no Option B. I will live in the Life’s shitty and come out of it, stronger, with lessons learned and battling for more. I’ve already shown the world, I am a badass and this pandemic won’t be my kryptonite. Yet, while living through this, it hurts like hell. But sometimes, you have to go through the rough patches to see the beauty of the flowers and Life owes me a field of them.
Look, I know we are facing the worse pain in our lifetimes collectively. I know we are all grieving the loss of our normalcy, of our one-weres, of our freedoms from movement. I know there is a sadness, an angst, a longing and a despair in all of this. And I know all of this because I feel it too. I have been feeling it for a while now, since Peter died. What I have learned though is we will learn to live with it, not like it, not embrace it, but with it. And while we learn, we have to look at tomorrows where we will all come out of this better, stronger and more than. Until then, peace in all your nows.