I’ve been writing almost every day to give my mind something to do. I’ve spent the last 5-6 years working on my emotional intelligence, recognizing (or rather having friends and mentors alike point out) that I do not engage my emotions as a normal person of my age should. I’m real good at shoving things into neat little tucked away boxes in the back offices of my mind while my brain and body continue to shine.
Yeah, it’s all fun and games til I don’t deal with one too many feels. Then I lose my schnitzels, and WALLA! I got a mess on my hands.
So, I’ve been more intentional about acknowledging and naming my emotions adequately, feeling and expressing them, leaning into them rather than compartmentalizing, as is easiest for me to do.
During the past three weeks, losing my husband unexpectedly put me to the test. Like, am I gone shove all these feelings down and just act like it ain’t happen? Like he ain’t just run off on the plug? Like he ain’t just leave me here with these people? For why tho!? For a little while I did shove those emotions. I had to immediately deal with the sticky stuff that sudden death creates. Money. Insurance. Stupid people. But as it got closer to the final services, I began to put space between me and everything. I realized that I needed to grieve before I lost it and couldn’t recover. I put my big big panties on and on to the business of dealing with my loss. My love. My friend. My Spencer.
I’ve found that writing allows me to grieve well. To name exactly what I am feeling—to put words to a roil of complex emotions and see them on paper or on screen—has allowed me to cry, to mourn, to lie prostrate, to pray, to engage my friends when necessary, to respond when they engage me.
A lots of what I’ve written happens spontaneously on Facebook of all places and then I transfer it here cuz this is where I store my words. Some folks find it weird. I am grieving loudly, publicly in writing.
I dunno. I think people are weirded out by death and grief, expecting you to just carry pain privately and do it quickly and stop making them feel bad for being relieved that death missed their lives this time.
But the Bible says we are supposed to mourn with those who mourn. Even when you don’t know what to do, just crying with somebody or sitting with them as they weep is such a beautiful expression of love. Even Jesus is touched by the feeling of our infirmities (including that of the soul). In Matthew 5, Jesus adds a blessing to those who mourn: they shall be comforted. How much more so if you’ve sown into someone else’s time of loss?
Anyway. I am going to mourn publicly. Loudly. For as long as is necessary. For the time give to me to mourn. Until Christ gives me the oil of joy instead.
Hope your day is bright! Especially after all this! I’m on my way for a haircut. Wheeeeew. Changes, man.