Is It Grief Or Is It Just Life?

Is It Grief or Is It Just Life?

Here’s something kind of messed up.

When I was a teenager, maybe early twenties, I had this realization that I had grown up a very lucky person. Like I had a great childhood, amazing family, my brother is my best friend. We didn’t go without but didn’t have so much that we didn’t appreciate what we had and I knew that no matter what I did or where I ended up I had support…that’s massive to how a human turns out. So because of that I believed that my adult life had to suffer…that it would be difficult because I hadn’t really been tested yet to see what I could and couldn’t handle, and for lack of a better word it had been easy.

It sounds like a bizarre train of thought but it’s not that far off in actual fact. My adult life has been difficult, amazing, spectacular and heartbreaking all at the same time. Deep gut wrenching loss that has changed me forever, and no I’m not one of those people that lost the love of their life and used that pain to do better for the world or find some deeper meaning to who they are and why they’re here. I’m average, basic and not driven…at least not at the moment.

But it’s changed me in that I’ve been tested and I’m still here living my life. Tiny little steps one at a time overcoming or at least being made aware of fears I didn’t know I had, ones as little as living alone and forcing myself to socialize when I’m not really feeling it. It’s changed me in that I can hear my voice getting a little bit louder each time I express my opinion where I wouldn’t have before or when I feel taken advantage of because I now know that there is no one else on this planet that I should be other than me…it’s exhausting to do otherwise. These are the things that come into perspective when one is so deeply drained.

This is a strange and bittersweet process, knowing that I’m growing into myself but because I was forced to not because it felt right before.  I was blessed (even though I hate that word) to have been with him for all that he taught me and the gifts he left me with…I will never take that for granted. Strangely one of the hardest lessons I’ve had to endure or at least come to realize is that I’m not being punished by losing him. I’m not a horrible person that had a great childhood and now has to suffer for it. I have put together, somewhere along the way, that the few years that I had with him were my reward. I was, for whatever reason, granted the gift of time together that I will always be grateful for.

So here’s where this is all headed. I’m not a writer, an artist, an influencer. I’m just a human that’s taking baby steps through a long and messy journey of life experiences who may or may not be able to help someone feel a little less crazy or alone, through their words. I will not sugar coat any of if…this sucks.

But, I will tell you that one day when I was listening to this new found tiny little voice of mine recounting all the trauma I’d been through I heard another, louder voice in the back of my mind that was not my own…and it very clearly said,

“well, at least now you have something to write about.”

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