breathing

I didn’t know what else to link, so I went with the most basic anatomic function possible. Because some days that has to be enough - and allowing it to be enough can feel like failure at the same time. For yourself, you will hear “getting through”, “moving through”, “feeling better”, but these assume you will leave this feeling behind, as if it’s a phase or a moment. The reality is that you are in it - it’s now a part of you. So each day you wake up and accept that you are still alive, and choose to take one step, or eat one meal, or make one phone call, you are learning how to “move with” the grief and pain, how to “feel [X] and feel sad”.

There is not a way to make it go away; to make it less awful; to leave it behind. But if you find the energy to spend an hour with a friend - even in silence - you are on the path of learning to live in both worlds. The world where you feel like you’re in free-fall, and the adjacent world where you have someone right in front of you that loves you.

For the care of someone else: I am still in this state of free-fall, and the word I finally found to use when people ask what I need is “patience”. Patience when I’m angry at inanimate objects, patience when I skip meals, patience when I forget something I promised. Anyone who has experienced grief through loss can testify that you feel lost, fogged over, and untethered. The most immediate thing a person can need from another when there is no solution to these feelings is simply for them to be patient.

I don’t know you but I love you and I hope my words help in any way.