As I’ve said many times on this blog, grief is exhausting. But what I didn’t expect was how long that exhaustion would last. Even little things exhaust me now and I don’t remember that happening before my grandmother died.
For example, I just knocked over a half-full glass of soda on my nightstand. Thank God my phone wasn’t on the nightstand as it often is, but I had to wipe off two books, a box of tissues, the top of the nightstand, the side of the nightstand, the back of the nightstand, magazines on the lower part of the nightstand and the carpet, baseboard and wall behind the nightstand. I was exhausted and even frustrated by this task.
I used to get upset because I felt like people didn’t invite me to things enough. Now, going to a birthday party, brunch or any other event involving other humans two weekends in a row is too much for me. I also think this exhausts me because I don’t care that much about other people anymore. I care about the people in my core group and that’s it.
Sometimes, just being alive is exhausting to me. Sometimes, it doesn’t feel worth it. Sometimes it feels like I’m not getting anything out of being here. Once my therapist asked me, “What do you think it will feel like to be 94% healed?” Part of what I imagine that will be like is I’ll no longer be afraid one day I’m just going to decide it’s too hard to live without grandmother and just give up. I’m not there yet, but I may be at 50%.
I’ve also been thinking about things, and people, that make me angry a lot lately. I’m angry with this guy I know for not wanting a real friendship with me. I’m angry because I know we could have an amazing friendship if he’d just put in the effort, but he’s one of those people who lets people reach out to him more than he reaches out to them and I don’t do one-sided relationships anymore. I’m angry at someone in my family for often being busy when I need to talk and for not coming to my grandmother’s funeral.
Now that I’ve gotten all that out, I feel better, which is why I started this blog in the first place. Hope you all are having a good Sunday night.
Laters,
S
The Bereaved 
I equate grief to surfing. Sometimes you have to ride the waves and pray you don’t get drowned. Losing my best friend of 19 years to murder and I’ve also lost childhood friends unexpectedly and both parents and a sibling and I’m only 47; I’ve become all too familiar with grief. It comes in waves and like an unexpected summer thunder storm catches me unaware at times. I just take it day by day, and like you I write my feelings out. Stay encouraged.
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Thank you so much for this encouraging message. I am so so incredibly sorry for your losses. I don’t know how you’re making it, but it gives me hope that you are. If you can keep keeping on after all you’ve been through, I can too. Thank you again for your kind words.
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