Grief

Hi. I’m not an expert on grief or a therapist or a psychiatrist or anything. But I have experienced trauma and tragedy and I have some thoughts on grief.  My one prayer for you, if I could only choose one, would be that you would feel not alone. Forget the Christian bullshit of, “You know you’re not alone.” When you’re in the throes of agonizing grief, you want to feel not alone. I remember when my cousin passed away and my whole family had gone up to Maryland a day earlier than me, I was sobbing because I didn’t want to be alone. I called a friend and asked if I could come over and sleep at her house, “I’m sorry, I’m going to a movie” (with a group of people including the boy she currently had a crush on). I was crushed by the rejection. I remember wailing that night. Wailing is in a category all it’s own. If you don’t know what it sounds/looks like, consider yourself lucky but brace yourself because none of us, unfortunately, escapes grief.

What sparked this blog tonight was a deep depression and me desperately listening to my favorite song in the world “Casimir Pulaski Day” by Sufjan Stevens. It’s about a teenage girl who gets cancer. It’s sad and haunting and beautiful. It has helped me deal with my grief since I was 16 years old, since before my own cancer, fortuitously. It has a whole new meaning now, but it will always be the song that got me through.

Life doesn’t have to be happy to be good. Full life can be experienced in the grief.

There is a God to scream at, to lay into, to lean into, to rest your weary head on. I believe it with everything in me.

But tonight, if you’re experiencing grief, I know you don’t want to hear about that, you want to experience it as a real, tangible, Savior-right-in-front-of-you.

Dear Lord, for the grieving, myself included, I pray they feel not alone. Thank you, in Jesus’ name, amen.

Nights like these are rough because all my unprocessed, unfelt grief catches up with me seemingly all at once. Oh, I've tried running through alcohol, sex, and drugs, but you always have to ante up and pay the price for your grief. I would say pour yourself a glass of wine and forget about what afflicts you but I know that will only work for a time but you'd soon become a full-fledged alcoholic. Feel the night as Strahan sings. I am so sorry if you are grieving. I pray you face it and feel not alone.

As I journey through my own season of grief, I just try to get by day by day. Tonight, as I lay down to sleep, I prayed, “Lord, sedate me.” Sedate me from the nightmares and sleep paralysis and insomnia and terrorizing thoughts. I don’t fully know your story but I’m sure we can relate on some level. I’m just making it moment to moment. Just like you. We can do this.

God bless. Love, Anna