Sitting on the cold sand at the bottom of the lake. My heart beating loudly, my breath stopped and old air pressed deeply into my body, diaphragm tense. Looking up it’s murky. Sunlight shimmering through the surface. Between me and the world tons of water, a whole different world. No one knows I’m here, invisible to the world up there- here I’m holding on to it; under the surface. Not taking anything from the world up there. Not even a breath. Not sharing it. Where can it all go? Holding it, keeping it together. Pushing away, keeping at bay the urge to take a breath, to let go, to let it out. It becomes an all consuming thought. Louder than my heart beat. Deafening noise. The serenity and loneliness of my thoughts and feelings inside my body becoming porous. Everywhere in my body the urge to open up and let it out. I find myself pushing away from the ground towards the world again. The surface. Did I want this? Who’s in control here? I wish I could let it all out says the inside. My brain fighting itself. Don’t! Don’t breathe now. Don’t let it out know. My mouth inflating like a balloon everything trying to stay shut whilst something pressing the ‘open’ button. I’m back at the surface taking that breath. Unsure if it’s tears or lake water streaming down my face. Everything relaxes. With the relaxation pain comes. The grief comes. Its breathing. It’s alive. In this world grief is out. It needs to breathe. I need to breathe. In and out. In and out. Can I, should I hold my breath again, hold the grief again? Resist, resist.
I watch the small waves rolling slowly onto the shore. This is where both worlds meet.
Dear Bia,
Behind your words must lie a world of grief. Thoughts and feelings can be sonoverwhelming at times, like big waves engulfing us. If only we could surf those waves.
Have you sought and received any help after suffering the losses you mention innyour profile?
I wished I could put my arms around you and grieve with you, but all I can do is let you know I have read your post and am thinking of you.
I hope you will find some comfort in reading posts and replies from others who understand the pain of losing loved ones.
Jo
Hi thanks for offering your support. I’m ok with my grief. It’s like with all of us it sometimes peaks. I was actually quite detached from the grief when I wrote this. It’s comforting to know I have this grief and manage it; that I can allow the difficult feelings to surface. That I can allow myself to go under sometimes, knowing grief is not killing us. It’s just feelings. Murray Parkes actually says something really beautiful: “It is the very transience of life that enhances love. The greater the risk, the stronger grows the attachment. For most of us, the fact that one day we shall lose the ones we love, and they us, draws us closer to them but remains a silent bell that wakes us in the night”.