A Raging Vicious Circle: Talking to Grief

I hate you, Grief.
You are an evil bastard.
I hate how you torment me.
I wish you would just f*ck off.
I wish you would just f*ck off with your sick sense of humour and little happy dances. It’s not funny, and why the f*ck does it make you happy? You are sick.

You have taken everything away from me. My son. My pregnancy. My hopes, my dreams.
I hate you for everything you do to me. I hate you for everything you continue to do to me.

I don’t want to accept you.

You are a heavy weight to bear, Grief.

You insist on piggy backs. They are no ordinary piggy backs, though. You grip on tight to my shoulders and my hips, and your claws dig in. Your talons creep in under my skin and weave around my whole body. It hurts, Grief.

Not only do I have the emotional pain to deal with, I have the physical pain, too. The aches. The tiredness. Feeling so heavy. Weary. Like walking through a fog of treacle.

The emotional pain is awful, too, but in my head is where Hugo is, with the memories. I need that to stay. The physical pain can go, though.

My guiding star walks with me. It tries to take my hand, but it cannot because both my hands are wrestling with the evil malevolent force on my back.

My guiding star tries to lighten the load for me. Steer me. Teach me that the H word (happy) can be used without guilt.

My guiding star wants to offer me comfort, to stroke my hair, tell me that I am doing great. Surviving.

My guiding star wants to offer me comfort so my grief doesn’t consume me. So that I can learn to be kind to myself. To honour Hugo’s memory. Channel my little feisty boy’s energy. To thrive.

I want to take your hand, my guiding star. But to do that means stopping wrestling with the grief on my back.

Does that mean it wins? I can see Grief grin.

Actually, you know what? I have two hands. I can wrestle Grief with one, hold your hand, Star, with the other. Grief in the one hand, comfort in the other. We could operate in tandem. 

Ha! See, Grief, I could do it too.

Not today, maybe not tomorrow, or next week….who knows when.

It would be great if wrestling you with one hand only, Grief, would make me less tired.

Oh, it doesn’t quite work like that?

That just wants to make me wrestle with you more.

I don’t want you to win. I don’t want you to consume me. I want to reach out to the Star.

Rage, rage, rage.

A raging vicious circle.

 

12 thoughts on “A Raging Vicious Circle: Talking to Grief

  1. mayhemmuddles says:

    I have been following your blog for a while and you are astoundingly amazing. This post is incredible. You are amazing for getting through every day and definitely allow yourself to feel how you feel and I know you probably don’t feel very strong , but just the fact that you are getting up every day and you write about it , makes you incredibly strong. Lots of love xxx

    Like

    • Leigh Kendall says:

      Thank you so much for your kind words. I’m not sure I always let myself feel how I feel, or feel strong, but writing is a huge release and without it I think I might explode. Thank you for taking the time to read and comment xxx

      Like

  2. Hannah Budding Smiles says:

    You are winning by getting through every day, by being bright and beautiful and by keeping Hugo’s Legacy alive. Grief is a strong, torturous bastard but you are stronger because love conquers and you, Martin, Hugo… That’s love xxx

    Like

  3. virginiaw says:

    It will not win. There are days when it will feel as if it is, and days when you don’t care if it wins or not. But you are a fighter, like Hugo. Be gentle with yourself–it sounds such a cliche, but it’s true. Feel what you feel–you’re allowed. You’ve got to feel it to get through it. One day, it won’t hurt so much. Hang in there. You are loved. xx

    Like

  4. Tara says:

    Well done for writing it out; imagine if it was all trapped inside you. It has to help. Keep following your bright and beautiful star, he will get you there.

    Like

  5. thinkingofyouandme says:

    Hi Leigh
    I think your guiding star is wrapping itself around you for the time you need both hands to wrestle your grief and it will be there waiting to hold your hand and then hands when they are free from fighting. It will then wrap itself around again when needed.
    You are doing so well, Hugo’s legacy is important and you are doing a damn fine job of making his name count.
    I hope you both had as good a Christmas and New Year as you were able to.
    Sadly grief is a journey of one step at a time, one day at a time. There are people who are still the journey with you, and who will sadly follow you. Your words are an inspiration and consolation to them.
    Keep on keeping on.
    Much love and respect.

    Like

  6. oana79 says:

    It won’t win. You are a survivor. You have come such a long way and you have done so much to honour Hugo’s legacy. And in this, in your surviving every painful day, we see your precious son’s feisty spirit.
    Today is not a good day but hey, you will survive it. In your son’s name, I know you will.xx

    Like

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