Grief limbo
Still seeking an ounce of the fire contained within these two ladies I once knew. May, 2019
Last night a friend asked me where I was in the grieving process. She lost her father not too long ago and while our losses are different, grief is grief. I explained that I had moved past the debilitating phase where getting out of bed is a struggle and slothing is a legitimate activity, but I still wasn’t me yet. However, as soon as those words came out of my mouth I realized that I didn’t know who “I” was. What was my identity post-Adelaide? What does this next version of Kelly look like? I know what I want it to look like: more writing, continued advocacy, various research focuses. The problem is I still don’t have the energy, motivation or ambition to make any of that happen. I may be functional on a basic level but sometimes answering a call or responding to a text is still a struggle. I’ve taken up residence in some sort of grief limbo: going through the essential motions of life, committing to what is absolutely needed of me but fighting to go further. Now, this is a vast improvement from where I was a month ago - but I’m still not capable of embracing the next chapter.
My rational brain is VERY aware that this is completely normal and ok. However, it is also anxious to just get on with it. How long does this phase last? When do I get to feel like me again? Or the new version of me? No one can say of course, and it’s different for everyone. Guess what? That’s not super comforting. I want a finish line and goal to meet. My life flipped upside down from one second to the next when we lost Adelaide. It only seems fair that it flip right side up again just as smoothly, no? What’s that you say? Life’s not fair? Clearly.
First day back on set filming CURE’s podcast “Seizing Life” November, 2019
So, here I am trying to figure out what I can handle today. Can I write a blog post? Am I ready for my first interview since… One moment, I’ll be doing great responding to emails or DM’s and 30 minutes later I’m back in bed. When I feel motivation to do something, anything, I jump on it and try and be as productive as possible because I don’t know how long the feeling will last. Clearly, this is the depression and yes, I’m talking to someone and, as you all know, am very grateful for my bff’s AKA benzos. But it’s a journey, no, an odyssey, with many trials along the way.
I feel I need to be honest about how hard this is because so many people have reached out and commended me on my strength and grace. And you know what? I am strong - because I’ve had to be. I will even own that publicly I have displayed grace through this trauma and the years prior. But like many things on social media, or the internet in general, there is always more to the story. It’s been rough ya’ll and I feel a need to own up to that lest someone in a similar situation feel that they can’t compare. I’ve gone days where I can’t stop crying followed by days where I feel dead inside, incapable of feeling much of anything - and this is just in the last few weeks while I’ve been semi-functional. This grief won’t kill me. But there have been moments when I’ve thought it might come close.
So three and a half months in and here’s some of what I’ve learned:
1. Grief is exhausting, like the-days-are-just-too-long-and-I-need-at-least-one-nap-to-get-through-them exhausting.
2. This one may sound weird, but it took me awhile to realize or accept that other people were also deeply grieving Adelaide. I know that sounds crazy because she touched so many people’s lives and we have such an amazing community. That said, it was hard for me to wrap my head around other people feeling the loss of a little girl that never spoke a word to them, or in many cases they had never met. Clearly this is telling of the unspeakable power that was Adelaide, but it took me by total surprise that so many other people were all going through the motions of intense grieving over my baby girl.
3. On a lighter note, retail therapy is real. Ok, maybe it’s just a distraction but, girl! Holiday shopping, then after Christmas sale shopping, then “researching” items for our new home in Jersey shopping, has really helped me.
4. This next one I hate to admit, but gosh darn it, it’s true. I’ve started taking a daily work out class and its definitely helped my overall well-being. I am not a person that loves working out. Outside of the body dysmorphia turned eating disorder I had in college, I can’t remember the last time I actually worked out every day. But for one hour a day I am focused on my body and how it feels and can let go of my grief. Then, when I get home, if I shower and end up back in bed, at least I feel like I’ve accomplished something that day.
5. Last but not least, even if you work out, you cannot continue to drink excessively and expect to lose weight. At least let me keep one vice! C’mon! We’ve established the world is unfair, but does it have to be that unfair?
The current Kelly, with no make-up, circles under the eyes, and my fave Rose Apothecary (a la Schitts Creek) sweatshirt because I haven’t changed since my work out class this morning….
This post has been a bit rambling but I guess that’s an honest look inside my head at the moment. Strong and graceful? On the outside, sure. But the inside’s a mess just like anyone else in a similar position. I’ll keep trudging forward, an inchstone at a time as I always have and hope that over time the dark clouds will thin and I’ll find a more consistent desire to be productive again. I’m just not the most patient person so if that could happen sooner rather than later I’d really appreciate it. K, thanks.
