coping with loss – Anna Marie

Sometimes my mind wages a battle against my heart, trying to convince me it doesn’t, or shouldn’t, feel something. My logic seeks to solve all my problems, believing that balance and happiness lie in rationality. This causes a lot of anxiety within me, and at times, I struggle to get it under control. I must face the truth that I am heartbroken, and I need to allow myself to feel that. Not to act on it, not to try and reclaim what’s lost (even if that were possible), but simply to sit with the emotion.

Yesterday, I tried to convince myself that what I felt wasn’t real, that it was just my need for connection. But today, I have realized that I truly loved him, more than I have ever loved anyone. And the pain that has come with cutting him completely out is intense. I believe we love others to the depth at which we love ourselves, and my love for myself is immense. This experience is reminding me to be careful with whom I share my heart and my life because when I love, it soars through the heavens and expands bigger than the Universe.

Grief is a strange beast that ebbs and flows like the tides of the ocean. I recently saw an incredible representation of how grief cycles through and out of our lives: a glass of red wine placed under a running faucet. The clear water slowly mixed with the deep red, diluting it. It took longer than I imagined for all the wine to disappear. That is how grief works. It is gradual, unpredictable, and even after the water runs clear a stain remains on the glass. A lingering lesson, a reminder of the pain that comes when I fall in love. Even if I do find the right person someday, I will still lose them to death. That pain will be even worse than this. If I am being honest, that thought scares me. But maybe it should scare everyone. Maybe then we would treat love with more respect. Treat each other with more respect.

I am not sure I want to go through heartache like this again. But maybe it is still too fresh, and I just need to stay present. By staying present and taking care of myself, I am finding it easier to navigate everything. I took two walks at work today. I also started a new chapter in my Sera novel. I thought it was finished, but there was more that needed to be written. The words flowed effortlessly, perhaps because I am no longer denying my emotions, even if they make me feel bipolar. Even if they make me look crazy to the outside world. She’s happy, she’s mad, she’s sad, she’s happy, she’s complaining, etc. Maybe the world needs to see that. Needs to see what actions do to people.

We try so hard to keep everyone comfortable, to avoid making a scene. But I think it needs to be seen. Otherwise, how do we change? How do we become better? I know that when I see I have hurt someone; it makes me reflect on my own toxic behaviors. I think everyone needs to reflect.

Anyway, these are just some fleeting thoughts from my chaotic day where I traveled through stress, anxiety, sadness, anger, and happiness, all while dreaming of what I want next in this life. So, I guess what I am really saying is that I am proud of myself. Proud of finally taking care of myself in the ways that I need.

Last night was not a good night for me. My son needed to be rescued from some difficult circumstances, and my attachment got the best of me. I found myself reaching out, grasping at whatever connection I could get ahold of, grasping for answers, grasping for validation. All I ended up doing was prolonging my suffering.

I have a hard time with loss. Losing love, or more so, losing connection. This morning, I realized how my attachment was causing me to put pressure on the people I love. My kids, my partners, my friends. I saw how much I was wanting from another person instead of simply enjoying their presence.

Last night, my ego took control for a few hours, and I was not the best version of myself. I lost control and found myself wondering what was wrong with me, questioning why people eventually pull away. At first, I am fun and detached, but as time goes on, I start to rely on what others offer me. When that love fades, when that connection disappears, I spiral into a reckless frenzy of sorrow.

This morning, I realized I’ve just been trying to escape my pain, trying to ignore the fact that I am searching for something outside of myself. I do well on my own. I feel I have mastered solitude. I know how to entertain myself, how to take care of myself, how to love myself. But when I enter a relationship, I become needy.

I know I need connection. I know I need love. But I must be willing to let people love and connect with me in their own ways, not just in the ways I expect or demand them to. I don’t know what this world holds for me in terms of connection, but I do know that I will continue to know and love myself. I will continue to reflect and heal. One experience at a time.

Tag: coping with loss

My Bipolar Day

A Sorrowed Frenzy