Grief steals more than simply the person you loved.
It steals your future, your dreams. The houses you’d buy or build together, the children you’d create and raise together. Your sanity. Your confidence.
It steals your breath. Some days I just can’t take a deep breath, no matter how hard I try to relax. Sometimes I don’t notice I haven’t breathed properly for weeks. I try to inhale deeply but it stops up at the top of my stomach. I can’t take one of those delicious deep breaths, into the back of my ribcage, up into my collar bones and down, deep into my belly.
It’s so frickin greedy. It stole my energy, resilience, tolerance. I can’t operate at the same pace that I used to. I get so tired.
A few social interactions a day and I’m done. That familiar, hollow feeling returns. Yup, you’re on your own kid.
A stressful incident knocks you for days. Sometimes I just feel so lost. Drifting without a purpose. Mast broken. Sails slashed. A grey horizon. Light, silent rain.
Greedy, greedy grief. You stole my future. You ripped it out of my hands and heart. And now I don’t have the confidence or capacity to dream up a new one. Not yet anyway.
Let me rest a while. Let me find my breath again. I may be living in the day-to-day for now but I know that will change.
I’ll find my new ‘why’. That thing you strive for that makes the humdrum living worthwhile.